Marrying a Med Student

West Virginia State Fair

2010-08-21T07:21:00.000-07:00

Went to the West Virginia State Fair last night with the von Erck family.
Rode the really high, really spinny swings (after fair food: cheeseburger, roasted corn and FUNNEL CAKE).
The guy in front of us fell out of the swing as it took flight.
15 foot fall.
The ride guys barely batted an eye.
I thought: DEATH!
Then, as we spun round and round over the bright lights of the fair, I smelled it.
Weed.
The 50+ year old couple 5 swings ahead of Hubs and I were smoking a joint.
Super cool, super old people.

Talk amongst yourselves.

And, no, of course I didn't take any pictures, because I'm the worst. EVER.
But, I did pet lots and lots of goats and sheep and swooned over the fluffy bunnies.

Blog Crisis

2010-08-20T04:40:00.001-07:00

I swear I will be back. The blog just needs a makeover. I don't fit it anymore. Give me a weekend?

THANKS!!!!!

Shorty

2010-08-03T09:54:00.000-07:00

Wall of windows opposite the wall from yesterday's teaser--with the Panther snoozing on the ottoman for good measure.

I promise to take better quality pictures this weekend. But on second thought, my parents will be here, so I promise to take pictures of all of our adventures.

So, what does a Tuesday morning look like for the director of a museum?

8:50am - Arrive at the museum.
8:51am - Turn off the alarm and turn on the lights.
8:53am - Turn on the copier.
8:54 - 8:59am - Turn on the Gift Shop computer; check emails; answer emails; forward emails to Archives; retrieve orders from online gift shop.
9:00am - Ascend the stairs and enter office; turning on lights along the way.
9:05 - 9:30am - Organize desk in preparation for journalist coming to interview at 10am, so that it does not look like a bomb just went off and you have no idea what you're doing.
9:32am - Discuss plans for Christmas Exhibit with committee member and part-time staff; write memorial for 91 year old volunteer who just passed away to go in newsletter.
9:58am - Journalist arrives.
10:00-11:00am - Interview.
11:05 - 12:00am - Inform archivist of Christmas exhibits and ask for research help; stump him and fellow volunteers; discuss idea of exhibit and possible places/things/books to research; go back and forth for 30 mintues.
12:00am - 1:00am - Eat leftover hot dog while designing invitation for the Ice Cream Social on August 29th.
1:05am - Take a deep breath and trek it back up the hill to museum; try to pick up random tourists along the way.

That's all folks.

Teaser

2010-08-02T09:36:00.000-07:00

Inside wall of the living room. I know this is crappy quality, but its a teaser.

I'm home for lunch and decided that since I was officially baaaack, I would post this quick pic.

Oh dear reader, I just can't even express how completely mind-boggled I am by everything that has happened.

How do you just leave everything, friends, family, place of reference, behind for a 6-hour-drive destination that you are now supposed to call home?
How does that happen?
Are there 12 step programs for that sort of thing?
Is Step 1 "Move on and accept what you have become"?
Hmm..
Not to mention that this 6-hour-drive destination is now my place of SALARY.
I think this is called the Real World.
I just wish it came with a manual.
Like, turn right here and you will magically know everything there ever was to know about running a museum.
Turn left and DIE.

Are you sure you're ready for my return?
I promise to be happy and uplifting and eternally shining in my next post.
Till then.

Alive?

2010-08-01T16:49:00.000-07:00

Yes, Hubs and I are alive and doing well. Things are freaking nuts. I was not prepared for all of the things that have happened during this past month.

Ahem. I am the executive director of a museum/historical society.

Does that freak anyone else out?!?!

Please, have patience with me. Give me another week to settle into this new life as Hubs settles into medical school (his orientation is tomorrow; first day of class is Friday).

I have so many things to fill you all in on and to show you!!!

I am slowly but surely getting a grip, but am ready to return.

I miss all of you. I have no idea what is happening in your lives. Sorry for being absent! I am tuning in again beginning tonight.

I think this has been a nice and appropriate break from the blog world, but I'm baaaack!

Here is an early or late or right on time good morning from the Jackson household:

See, still alive even after the torrential downpours/bar hopping of last night. Fun times.

I'm HERE

2010-07-19T13:47:00.000-07:00

Ok. Ok. Its been forever. I doubt that any of you dear readers are even still left. But, if you are, thank you for your loyalty and patience.

Hubs and I are officially residents of the Wild State.

And I am officially the Executive Director of the museum here in our small mountain town.
Two woots for emloyment!!!!!!!!

I don't have the energy or the capacity to really dig in and blog right now, but I promise to be back soon. I have to let you all in on what Hubs and I have been up to.

I know I know

2010-06-23T14:25:00.000-07:00

I've been a horrible blogger. I've been doing a lot of "drive-bys" lately. Which means that I have been keeping up with your blogs (while at work, "checking" email), but I have not had a free moment to comment. Horrible, right?

I know you miss me. Maybe.

I promise to be back in the full swing of things on Monday. When Hubs and I will be official Wild Statians. And I will no longer be a swampy but a mountaineer. I would have never thought I'd see the day.

I wish that I could tell you packing is going well. I'm not really sure what step we are currently on, but its not looking good. You see we are housesitting somewhere with a pool. A really nice, big pool. So, ask me again how packing is going.

Have I ever mentioned that Hubs and I are excellent procrastinators? Which doesn't help the situation at all. And the pool. Well, that really doesn't help at all, because it is hot in this fish bowl city. Really hot. I'm looking forward to some 70 degree days. They are in my very near future. Thank you, Wild State.

I can't wait to take some pictures of the Wild State and our new abode. Wait patiently. They are coming!

Where am I?

2010-06-19T06:22:00.000-07:00

Still here. Currently sitting on the couch with a slight headache from the vodka tonics and laughter of last night while Hubs makes me pancakes and coffee. Cure!

After pancakes, Hubs and I are going to pack up 2 boxes (since we only have 2 boxes left to pack with) and then head over to the pool where we are housesitting.

This is the life.

Oh, and the job? Well, I got a call on Friday to tell me they have extended the interview process into next week due to an overwhelming response to the opening.
Woooooooo.
Great news, right?
..................................................

I promise to be back soon.
Probably on Monday griping about something or other.

Happy weekend to you all. I see a pool in your future. Do-do-do-do-do-do.

Two Weeks From Now

2010-06-15T03:50:00.000-07:00

Hubs and I will still be sleeping. In the Wild State.
No more 430am alarms. No more 445am alarms. No more 500am alarms. No more 515am alarms.
Thank God.

It will be our third morning waking up in the Wild State.
I wonder if it will feel different.
I wonder how the Panther will have done on the 6 hour car ride.
I wonder if we will be completely unpacked.
Knowing Hubs and I, we will.
I wonder if I will have already drug Hubs along to the paint store.
Probably.
I wonder if I will have already launched on my thrift/antique mission.
Most likely.
I wonder if I will have found my bookshelves by then.
Probably not, but I doubt I will have given up.

I wonder if I will be counting down the days to starting the job.
I hope so.

There are so many things to wonder about right now, because so many things are about to change.
And I say, BRING on the change!
I've never been so excited to start something new.
I feel like this past year has been limbo.
I'm ready for some consistency.

I am ready to be a mountaineer, dare I say it.
I hope that you all will join me on this journey.
The blog will be getting a makeover in 2 weeks.
I can't wait for Chapter 2.

10 Things You Should Know

2010-06-14T03:56:00.000-07:00

1. Hubs and I welcomed summer all official-like last night. Chicken burgers, homemade potato salad (smothered in fresh dill) and fresh corn on the cob. The corn was amazing, inducing vulgar groanings of "oh my gah" with each bite. Mmm!

2. Yesterday, I was NOT a happy camper. I'm pretty sure that Hubs tried to flirt with me throughout the entire dinner-making process and I was having nothing to do with it. And then, when he didn't cut the rest of the corn off the cob right when I asked him to, I accidentally unleashed some of my biting sarcasm.
I'm sorry Hubs!!! I love you!!! Blame my uterus! It isn't me talking and reacting all the time.
Its a chemical thing, you know?

3. I had the best time in Charleston with my girls.
I realized a few things:
a) I don't miss going out. In Charleston, it just means you get really sweaty and nauseated from too much alcohol, 97 degree heat and 100% humidity. It also means $15 tabs for 2 drinks. What!
b) I hope and pray that I never looked as drunk as the majority of the girls that I couldn't help but watch trainwreck all night long. Disasters!
c) Charleston is SO HOT. How did I ever forget that fact?
d) Other single girls judge us-old-married-women for going out sans the hubs.
They're all, "Oh my gah, you're going out? But, you're married."
And I'm all, "Oh my gah, you didn't know that they lifted the ban on married women having a social life outside of their Martha-Stewart-kitchens?"
They're all wide-eyed stare and, "Nooo, when did that happen?"
And I'm all, "Well, let's see. I think the year was 1922, and I'm pretty sure that your great-grandmother was shoved up against a grimy wall in some basement club as some stranger felt her up while your great-grandfather, her husband, finished his shift at the mechanic shop.***"
And they're all, "Ohhh. Well, wanna split a shot?"
[Plot may or may not have been stolen from Chicago. Hypothetically speaking.]

4. Hubs and I completed Part 2 of Step 1 of the 20 Steps to Packing Bliss (or whatever I called it). We dropped off two overflowing garbage bags at Goodwill. I love getting rid of crap that you never use. Its like mental weightloss.

5. I'm a little obsessed with floor lamps at the moment. I am crushing on this one currently.

I asked Hubs if I could get it for our one year anniversary (which oh-my-gah is in two and a half months! what!!). Is that weird?

6. We also completed Step 2, packing up our winter clothes and superfluous clothes-related items that we know we won't be using in the next 2 weeks, and began on Step 3, books and knick-knacks.

7. Still haven't seen SATC2. Its killing me, but I literally have no time for anything! I am working 9 hour days, training an intern to take over for me when I leave in two weeks. Oh my gah!

8. I had the best of intentions this morning. I was lying in bed last night. Its was 1130. I thought, I feel really good right now. I should get a good rest, drop Hubs off and go for a walk (maybe run if I'm feeling crazy) or at least start back doing Jillian. Yep. Did not happen. Surprised? Not in the least.

9. I am not-so-patiently awaiting the results of my interview. That might be why I've been biting off Hubs' sweet head lately.

10. I am pretty sure that I might go into a slight depression if I don't get the job. I am currently depressed about my naked fingernails. I have been staring at them a lot lately and envisioning my favorite shade of hot pink on them, but I just haven't had the energy to make that dream a reality. Sigh.

Tell me something that I must know about you!

***I was not making out with anybody!! I am just trying to make a point, a rather muddled and exaggerated and extreme point, but a point nonetheless. Hubs is stuck with me for life. No chance of extramarital jaunts in this union!

On the road again..

2010-06-11T04:01:00.000-07:00

Heading to Charleston this afternoon for some girl time.

I can't wait!!

I'm going to see:

A lot of her.

A little bit of her.

A whole lot of my favorite place on earth.

I'm going to miss:

Her, alot.

And him, too!!

Hopefully, I will get to talk to her for a while on the ride home.

I miss my girls like crazy!!!
Hubs, I will be home before you know it. I love you.

I hope that everyone has as wonderful of a weekend as I am sure to have!!!

For Hubs

2010-06-10T04:14:00.000-07:00

For some odd reason, Hubs thinks that I portray him as "mean" and "uncaring" and "selfish" on this here blog.
Not a post goes by that he reads and doesn't comment on how "bad you just made me look!"
"They must think I'm the meanest guy around!"
["They" being you, dear reader.]

So, I gave Hubs some options.
Option 1: Edit my posts before they reach dear reader.
Option 2: Have a rebuttal post to "set the record straight."

Apparently, I have selective memory or a distorted view of the past.
I might also have a slight problem with exaggeration.
Its like I have this need to recount things that maybe didn't happen?
Either way, Hubs is never very pleased with how he appears on the blog, so I'm here to set the record straight.

But first, a defense.
Hubs, it is true that you are very sensitive to my continued sleeping (most mornings) (except for your 4 alarms that don't give a damn who's sleeping and go off in 20 minute intervals beginning at 430am) in that you tiptoe around, tuck me back in and generally keep the light out of my sensitive eyes.
But Hubs, Mother Theresa would be labeled as an evil villain if she slept next to me every night with 4 different alarms for company and had a need to get me up before 530am so that I could drive her to work.
See, it has nothing to do with you.
Its me.
Because I'm not a morning person.
This means that if I am made to get out of bed before 7am, I am probably very annoyed/pissed off/angry at what or whoever just made me get out of bed before 7am.
NOT at you!
But at THE SITUATION.

source

No, not him.
You know, the sleep situation.

So, Hubs, I guess what I'm trying to say is that your alarms will always piss me off, your tiptoes will always sound like stomps and the light, no matter how hard you try, will ALWAYS shine directly in my eyes.
And in those moments, I will blame you for doing all of those things directly to me even though I know that they are only the malicious creations of my subconcious.
Deep down, I know, Hubs, that you would never treat your blond wifey like passive aggressive parents who resort to extreme measures to wake their angry teenager up before 3pm.

Dear reader, Hubs is really the sweetest man I know. I mean, he makes me pancakes every Saturday and Sunday morning while I sit on the couch and veg on the internet. AND, he cleans up after those pancakes. What!? Oh yeah.

So dear reader, please know that these off-character portrayals of Hubs are really only violent acts of my very creative psychosis that sees only what it wants to see and remembers what it wants and thinks it remembers, because they could never be accurate descriptions of my sweet, sweet Hubs.

[Now that's love: the willingness to look like a complete psychopath on the internet.]

Buuuzzzzz

2010-06-09T17:31:00.000-07:00

is what I feel like right now.
Wheww... What a crazy day!
It probably didn't help that I drank an entire cup of very strong coffee and then took a very large sudaphed since both seem to make my heart beat at the speed of a humming bird's wings.

I didn't sleep well thanks to leaky sinuses, clogged nostrils and nerves.
I didn't want to get up when Hubs' 430am alarm went off.
I still didn't want to get up when he came back in from showering and shined the closet light in my eyes.
I decided to not get up when he walked loudly out from the bedroom.
But in the end, I got up.

Sneezefest 2010 began about 622am and continued until about 945am.
I thought for sure it would never end.
That was when I downed the sudaphed.
And half a bottle of saline nose spray.
Then, I rubbed my nostrils raw.
Poor nostrils.
The sneezes stopped just about 1015am.
Just in time for the, well, you know.
The interview.

Yeah, the interview.
So, you're probably wondering about the interview, right?
I took my position at the kitchen table about 1005am.
I tried to read some blogs to calm my nerves.
That didn't work.
I prepared my space.
10 pages of notes spread in front of me.
Computer open with various documents open and ready just in case.
A glass of water for the dry mouth that would inevitably occur from talking a million miles a minute in an effort to sell myself.
I had a pen ready to take notes.
Just in case.
At 1030am, the classical serenade that I was waiting to explode from my phone didn't happen.
Then came 1031am.
Still no explosion.
At 1032am, frantic violins erupted as my phone lit up and vibrated on the table.
I picked it up with quick breaths, speeding heart.
I took a deep breath.
Tapped the green button.
"Hello?"

It lasted exactly 30 minutes.
I had to frantically gulp down water 4 different times because my tongue was like leather.
I hardly took a breath between answers.
I spat out words like candy at a Christmas parade.
And in the end, I felt good.
Really good.
In my opinion, it went very well.
I felt prepared.
I was confident.
I want that job so freaking bad.
I hope that translated well over the phone.
The phone part is the only thing that I don't feel good about.
There were a few awkward pauses as we each waited for the other to begin talking, but I guess that is to be expected.
But, overall, I feel great about it.
That's just me though.
I don't have any expectations unless they're high--like reaching-for-the-stars-high.
I know that may seem like a bad thing, but it works for me.
It pisses me off when I don't get what I expected and makes me work that much harder to insure that I get what I expected the next time.
Nothing like competing with yourself, right?

So, after a delicious dinner of fettucine noodles, sauteed strings of zucchini and homemade tomato-red pepper sauce, I am going to try and convince myself that I should begin on Part 2 of Step 1.

**THANKS for all the blog lovin', ladies. You don't even know how much you boost my mood and confidence. :)

The Funk

2010-06-08T05:52:00.000-07:00

I woke up with a funk this morning--killer headache, achy back, sensitive skin, jar head, mucus-y throat and leaky sinuses. I am also running a low-grade fever, so no Tuesday with Monster for me.

Since I am holed up on the couch, I thought that I should at least bring you all along on this fantastic journey that I like to call:

Packing:

The 20 Steps to Cardboard Heaven

Hubs and I completed Part 1 of Step 1 Sunday night.

Step 1:

Organize Existing Materials

(read: Throw Away ALL Your Crap)

We (read: I) chose the filing cabinet and napkin-turned-catch-all-for-junk-holder for Step 1.

Observe:

Be glad that I was too embarrassed to open the bottom drawer. Isn't it hilarious that I own a piece of furniture (a filing cabinet) that is meant for organization and neatness and for all those perfect people out there and canNOT keep it true to its purpose? Pathetic.

And who turns a napkin holder into an inbox/outbox/junk drawer? Who?!

And yes, we do everything from a seated position on our couch in front of our new and beautiful tv. Thanks for noticing/asking.

Its amazing to think that all of that could really fit in that tiny thing, huh?

And yes, we store our tv box next to the couch. I mean, we are moving in 2.5 weeks.

How insecure am I that I feel I must keep explaining our junky apartment and inability to remove ourselves from in front of our tv?

Sad.

Oh, Hubs. It can't be that bad. The Panther sure does seem to be enjoying herself.

You can tell how puny I'm feeling since I haven't taken the time to adjust the color/contrast of any of these photos or to get rid of Hubs' red eye.

[But now that the cat is out of the bag, yes, Hubs is a bloodsucking vampire. Don't worry. He abstains from human blood in so far that he doesn't actually bite humans. The blood bags at the hospital where he works are his only source of nutrients. Poor, bloodsucking Hubs.

I want to be a vampire so bad it hurts. I keep having nightmares where I'm an old woman and he is still young, beautiful, bloodsucking Hubs.

But, he won't bite me.

He doesn't want me to suffer from the same hopeless, soulless, bloodless bloodsucking existence that he does.

What he doesn't know is that I plan on tricking him into getting me pregnant (since, you know, all he-vampires though bloodless and technically dead have a healthy supply of semen), which will force him to turn me into a vampire.

What? You didn't know that vampire babies are deadly?

He'd be saving my life, while simultaneously killing me, dooming me to an eternity of living death.]

Sorry, I never can resist a Meyer-stab.

Ahh... that feels better. And it only took about 30 minutes.

Please ignore the fish posters in the background. I didn't want Hubs to completely loose his identity upon marrying me (at least, just yet), so I conceded to the fish posters (for now).

Now, onto Part 2 of Step 1: going through each and every article of clothing and deciding what stays and what goes.

I'm not anything if not thorough.

-----------------------------------------------

Hey, guess what.

I GOT A PHONE INTERVIEW FOR THE FREAKING AWESOME POSITION THAT WOULD MAKE ME SO FREAKING HAPPY.

Its tomorrow morning at 1030am. Fingers crossed that I am not running a fever or sniffling/snotting my way through it.

Oh yeah, and fingers crossed that I get it!!

Random for the Weekend

2010-06-04T04:11:00.000-07:00

Well, Hubs and I are getting on the road (AGAIN) this afternoon, heading up to Virginia for his little sister's graduation--yet another time for me to sit back and feel old. Yippee.

This week has disappeared. I have no idea where it went, but I'm pretty sure that James Taylor stole it from me. I can't honestly say that I want it back. Take it, James, and keep it.

Hubs and I have still yet to begin the arduous packing process. I'm going to stop there because I might hyperventilate.

Still no word on the job situation. I am beginning to think that is not such a good thing.

Do you know if they have people called "friends" in the Wild State? Its been so long since I've seen these people that I'm afraid I won't know how to spot them when I get there.

I am in desperate need of a haircut. And an attitude adjustment. I wonder if I could get a two-for-one deal somewhere.

Hubs and I bought a stove-top griddle/grill pan (nonstick). It is like the best freaking thing EVER. I love it!

I have been looking forward to So You Think You Can Dance since last week and was very disappointed that I only got to see an hour of auditions (because of James) before they were in Vegas. I need at least 8 hours of auditions before I'm ready for the hardcore competition.

So for some very strange reason, Hubs and I decided to watch the finale of Lost. Afterward, we both agreed that we hadn't missed ANYTHING by not watching that show. It was really really strange. And, ending the show with everyone in a "heaven" type place was a total cop-out if you ask me.

I keep telling Hubs that I think its about time we tried for another fur-baby. I think ours is getting lonely.

Whenever I See Your Smiling Face

2010-06-03T06:54:00.000-07:00

Last night, I saw James Taylor and Carole King in concert.
It was pretty freaking amazing.
The funny part is that I had been dreading the concert all day.
I did NOT want to go.
Why?
Because I have Peter Pan syndrome, and the one thing that I hate after getting old myself is when others that I look up to or enjoy get old, too.
I was worried that James Taylor wouldn't sound like the James Taylor that I listen to on my cds or itunes.
I was waiting for an old-man-voice to filter through that microphone and break my heart as I sat in the nosebleed section.
Thank God that I was wrong.
James Taylor hasn't aged a day.
He was amazing.
And Carole King, well that lady rocked the arena.
It was such a good night of good music.
I am so glad that I went even though we didn't get home until 130am.
And spent waaaaay too much money.
But it was great nonetheless.
They played my favorite song, too, as part of the encore.
I had been waiting all night to hear it.
I want you to hear it, too.

I'm under the impression that encores are no longer spontaneous--they are actually planned into the performance.
Oh well.

"When We're Rich"

2010-06-01T08:37:00.000-07:00

is my new go-to phrase these days. Although I know better than most that doctors are not all rich, I know that one day we will be comfortable. All that I really want is for us to not have to think twice when it comes to repairing our only car so that it doesn't break down on us mid-transit or cause us bodily injury because we are worried that we can't spare enough money to have it fixed. I just want piece of mind that if I fall and break my leg, we are going to have enough money to have the proper medical care to fix it.

Have I mentioned that Hubs' medical school does NOT offer health insurance?
Does that seem odd to anyone else?
So, I am going to have to drop everything I have here in SC and move to WV in the hopes of finding a good enough job to cover living expenses and health insurance even though we will only be there three years, so even if I found a great job with benefits, they may not even look at me because I can't commit more than three years?!

Does this sound like the lavish wife-of-a-doctor lifestyle you were expecting?

Back on topic.

It is a common misconception that doctors are millionaires. Sure, some are, but most are very much NOT.

Because...
Most student doctors do not graduate from four years of medical school debt-free (laughable).
Yup, you have to pay to learn how to save lives.
And we are talking a good fraction of a million dollars in payment to learn how to save lives.
This = debt on top of any other undergraduate expenses that may have accrued in order to get into medical school.
You know, like four years of every science class that you could imagine that has a required lab with $400 lab fees and $700 book fees; like one Kaplan course at $1000 a pop to help you study for the MCAT, which costs a pretty penny to take (each time, because it should be taken more than once).
Then there are the fees to apply to all of the medical schools.
And finally the deposit once you've been accepted.

Do you see the number rising?
Me too.

I have tallied that Hubs and I will be roughly $260,000 and some change in debt by the time he walks across that stage as Dr. Hubs.

But he will be able to pay it off within his first year out of school working, right?

No. He won't. Because he will be pulling 80 hour weeks, during which time he will be missing holidays, maybe even the births of his children, etc., for a mere $45,000 a year. And this will go on anywhere from three to eight years. (Hubs' program will take an additional six after medical school.)

I guess that the whole debt thing is really a nice way of weeding out the ones who are only in it for a little cash from those committed few. You know, those crazy people willing to go as far into the red as need be will surely the best doctor make.

Finding it really pathetic what our ~~lifesavers~~ doctors have to go through to save lives, I mean, to pay outrageous malpractice insurance so that they can then attempt to save lives?
Remind me again how much a celebrity makes per movie, or a professional athlete per game.
And they aren't saving lives one foul ball at a time are they?
And I bet they didn't have to pay any amount of money to pretend to makeout with a ~~complete stranger~~ fellow actor so that millions of people can watch them on the big screen.
Oh, that's right. We pay them LOADS to do all of those things.
My bad.

I guess that where this innocent phrase has led me is here:

To all of those people who wink, pop the thumbs up or attempt to high-five me for marrying a soon-to-be-doctor because they think that I pictured a future of bedazzlement with Hubs proffering up diamonds at every birthday, anniversary or the third Monday of every month because he's a millionaire and he can, you know nothing of the sacrifice it takes to get past four years of $250,000 classes and six years of living frugally and paying off that bill.

I thought that maybe no one outside of the medical school world would understand this precarious position of doctorhood until I had lunch with my mentor a few months back. The first word he uttered as I described the situation of medical school was "poverty."

"Excuse me," I said, as I nearly choked on my tomato-basil noodles.

"They expect both of you to live in poverty so that he can go to school and learn how to save peoples' lives," he said.

Poverty. I never thought about it that way. Sure, I say that we're poor more times a day than I'd care to count, but poverty? That's something entirely different.

"What about you?" he asked.

Yeah, what about me, I thought. Its all up to me, this whole staying out of poverty thing.

"Well, that's why I am here with you now. I have to get the best job that I can, because we only want to take out enough loans to pay for school. We are trying to come up with living expenses on our own."

"But, that's insane. You're both so young. How do they expect you to do that?"

[I'm still not entirely sure who he meant by "they," but I'm pretty sure that he was speaking of our beloved government.]

"You know what I think," he asked. "I think that medical school should be free. Why do the people who want to save lives have to live in poverty while incurring hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt to learn how to save human life?"

[And this is when I thought that was probably the best idea I'd ever heard a democrat propose. (And I am a-political for the record.) I agreed with him. I may have even drank a sip of my water to that, believing that he was on to something. It seemed like the fairest thing out there. I was all about some equal rights for student doctors in the moment, but probably only because I think that Hubs is the nicest, most selfless person on the planet and of all the doctor-wannabes, surely he should be granted the fine gift of free medical school.

But the more I thought about it, the more I understood why so many people fall victim to these progressive theories. Free medical school sounds a lot like Health Care Reform, which isn't a solution at all. In fact, the same spiraling-into-failure cycle would be true of both theories. If medical school were indeed free, then every cash-loving son-of-a-gun out there would be signed up tomorrow, not because they had a passion for helping people, but because they wanted to get.rich.quick and everyone knows that doctors are millionaires, right?

The truth is that the quality of doctors and healthcare would quickly diminish and eventually disappear (remember what I said earlier about all of that debt weeding out the good from the bad?), because there would be no competition and doctors would be just as broke as well, medical students. Sigh.]

I guess all that I am trying to say here is that I picture a future where Hubs and I don't have to check our bank account a million times a day to make sure we have enough liquid funds to cover our student loans, utility bills and rent. I don't want to have to worry about spending too much money on groceries. And damn it, I want some extra cash to give to those people who have NO way of making ends meet.

I'm just saying that yeah, its pretty cool being married to a man who will one day be called Doctor, but I'm not in this for the cash, so don't pat me on the back because you think I married a soon-to-be-millionaire and deserve a "congratulations."

Growing Up

2010-05-28T03:57:00.000-07:00

Hubs and I will be heading to my parents' house this afternoon.

Its celebration time.

My little brother is graduating from high school.

Sigh.

I am officially old.

Happy Graduation, Jamie!
Congratulations!
I love you!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok, so I know that not everyone loves Glee like I do, but please bare with me.
You might even become a convert if you follow along and do as I say.
Sounds a little sinister, right?
WELL I MEAN IT, YOU BETTER DO AS I SAY.
Ok, I really am joking.
On topic again, this past week's episode, the Gaga episode, was a revelation.
I actually do like Lady Gaga, well that isn't exactly true. I appreciate her status as a pop icon and I do enjoy a limited number of her songs (I am currently digging "Paparazzi." I know, I know. Everyone says its so overplayed, but I don't listen to mainstream radio, so I miss all of the redundancy.).
Her videos are quite entertaining. I'm just not into the whole techno thing. Or, all of the air humping.
I do, however, LOVE her songs when they are covered by the incredible members of the Glee cast thanks to the creative geniuses who can listen to a song like "Poker Face" (Exhibit A) and turn it into Exhibit B.
See what I mean below.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

I wish that I had talent like that to hear the potential in a song to take it from scary techno to something so lovely that I can't stop listening to even at work where I sometimes (maybe all the time) forget that I am not alone and sing very loudly along with the tunes buzzing in my ear buds.
Embarassing.
But don't you agree that Exhibit B is, well, incredible?

I am shutting up now about Glee. I have been trying my hardest not to blog about it all week.
I have no will-power.
Have a fabulous holiday weekend!!!

A Welcome Break

2010-05-27T06:53:00.000-07:00

So, after working all weekend and week, not getting to bed before 11:30 every night, finishing up my freelance assignment, dropping another $200 on the car, babysitting the monster, "kicking ass" (so said my boss) in my meeting yesterday morning and laying on the couch all last night with a splitting headache while Hubs worked late at the hospital, I have decided to take this morning off. I was in desperate need of sleep and just one moment to sit and think about nothing in particular.

God knows that I definitely don't want to think about the future. Things are too up in the air, too close to going exactly the way that I wanted them to go. And that part is really scary.

Being so close to having what you've been dreaming about for the past year and yet having no control over what happens next.

I need an interview and the only thing I have to rely on to get that interview is a few pieces of paper.

That's it.

That's scary.

I am so conflicted.
Part of me is counting down the days til the big move, so ready for a change, so ready to start something brand new with Hubs.
The other part of me is worried, discouraged by the moving process and wondering where in the world I am going to fit in the Wild State.
I'm worried about being lonely while Hubs studies his life away.
I've lived for nearly a year here in this city without any girlfriends (AND IT SUCKS) but at least I have had Hubs almost every time that I wanted him.
What am I going to have up there?

My alienation is really my own fault. I could call up any number of my girlfriends that live at the closest 2 hours away, but I have some strange physical and mental block when it comes to talking on the phone. I just don't do it. I forget to return calls or to even call in general. I'm not a phone talker. I want you to physically be with me. That's where I connect. (Yes, this is a totally lame cop-out, because I'm the worst friend ever.) Because I have some great friends. Friends like Hannah who will drive 2 hours just to hang out with me all day and make me laugh. Friends like Margaret who sends the best presents ever like the package of cosmopolitan ingredients and a gift card to the movies, so that I can feel like I have a girlfriend with me as I drag Hubs to see SATC2. I think I'm going to cry. No really. I think I am. I don't deserve any of that.

Anyways, I have been looking at Hubs' future fellow students a lot on facebook, scoping out potential new friends, and that had me even more worried.

There are so many varied ages among the students and their SOs. Its like half of them are married with children while the other half are fresh out of undergrad and read to par-tay.
You see, I'm stuck somewhere there in the middle.
And some of the people just seem so... OUT there. Like really out there. Like they are in bike gangs together and the guys wear girl jeans and they are OVER 25. Yeah..
I keep telling Hubs, "Dude, you are going to be the squarest person in your class."
Its true. He shall see.
I don't think I'm a square. I've always been told that I am just "freee." Whatever that means.
I think that I probably look like a square, but I've got way too volatile of a tongue to be one.
I guess what this boils down to is that I am extremely shallow, and yes, I do judge a book by its cover. So shoot me! And sign me up for the squares!

I digress. Back to my worries.

I'm not whining. I'm truly worried (remember, I'm a worrier).

And right now, I am scanning our crappy little apartment from my perch on our couch with its ugly supposed-to-be-navy-but-it-looks-purple slipcover and trying to picture everything packed up in cardboard.

Is there a 12 step program for packing?
How about one for making friends?
What about one for curing my inability to use a phone correctly?
There must be one for my extreme shallowness and quick-to-judge mentality.
Help?

Ok, I need to get off the couch now. Productivity is my friend.

Sorry for the Debbie Downer post. I have been fooling myself and you, my dear readers, for the past two weeks with photos and cheap talk. I apologize for submitting you all to my ridiculousness (as Hubs would call it).

Here. You're distracted:
We call this the high-dive tuck. Excellent form, Panther.

Tuesday with Monster

2010-05-25T10:38:00.000-07:00

What did Monster and Aunt Beezy's morning look like?

Like this:

Complete with block stacking, posing, laughing, photo shooting, eskimo-kissing-turned-makeout-session. Perfect!

I love Hubs

2010-05-24T18:21:00.000-07:00

**Warning: All of these pictures were taken from the comfort of the sofa. Their quality may or may not have suffered.**

But first, a tribute to the Panther-ball. A Panther-ball is a rarity that only a lucky few of us has ever stumbled upon. You have to be quiet. And stealth. You shouldn't even try if you've recently eaten fish. But sometimes, you get lucky and you catch the Panther-ball unawares.
Like this:

But this post is about Hubs and all of the wonderful things that he does for me, because he loves me and is the best. EVER.

First though, look at what we just threw $500 away for:

Ok, really, this is about Hubs. Look at the things that he has done for me, his baby (and creative genius):

(I use the past tense [was], because these two pieces were done during college, when I was unspeakably in love with anything in any shade of avocado green.)

I love this filing cabinet for its style. But, don't ask me to open it for you. Its a complete and utter disaster. I am forcing myself to tackle it before the move. It makes me break out in a sweat just thinking about it. It was a thrift store find in pretty bad condition, thus the paint-job. As we were painting it, streaks of rust began to run through the paint (although you can't really see it in the picture) and I actually love the look of it. Just haven't gotten the organization part down yet.

The chair was all Hubs. I picked out that beautiful shade of green and the very expensive fabric that thank God was 75% off because I saw it and had to have it. (Before: the chair was painted in a dirty shade of off-white and had the most horrifyingly shiny, pale blue floral fabric on the seat.) So, Hubs took it upon himself to recover the seat and paint it! And, it is definitely one of my favorite pieces, although his next creation might rival it:

So, yeah, this is pretty much the sexiest lamp I've every owned. For some odd reason, I only bought table and floor lamps with paper lantern shades (again, my college style was obviously immature and lacking and I have no reason why I chose the things that I did), and I am so over them right now. When I saw this lamp on the shelf of our neighborhood Goodwill, I knew that I had to make it into my--I mean our--I mean, Hubs' next project. It was sans a lamp shade, but I knew its potential. For $3.50, I bought the hunk of cream-colored sculpture and $14 of a lampshade and $8 of freaking fabulous zebra-striped micro suede fabric later, I had this beauty to call my own. Thanks Hubs!!

Don't judge us for eating our tacos on the couch. Ever since we threw away that $500, we can't help but drool over our new tv. (And I didn't get off work until 6 and we had to trudge through the grocery store before making it home to cook, so there!!)

Stroke My Big uh,uh,uh Ego

2010-05-21T15:38:00.000-07:00

Happy Weekend to all!

This is my new favorite tune.

Beyonce, you rock my socks off.

Kanye, as long as you're behaving, I like you, too.

Enjoy!

(Where do I learn to dance like this?)

The first year of marriage brings...

2010-05-20T09:49:00.000-07:00

***There are qualifications for the following list to apply to you and your significant other (SO):

1. At least one of you must be under 25
2. Both of you must be in some way shape or form beginning, about to begin, ending or trudging through some type of higher education
3. Neither you or your SO (significant other) can be an heir/heiress/oil tycoon/royalty/professional athlete/celebrity/hedge funder/trust fund baby/etc.

So, back to the list. The first year of marriage (for all of those who qualify) brings:

1. NO money, because even the few thou you racked up at the wedding is gone. Admit it!
2. Unexpected things that cost lots and lots of money (like car repair, or tonsillectomies, or a replacement laptop, etc.--and no, this is not a personal list--these are generalized observations that might be based off of my own experience--might be!)
3. Lots of fun, guilt-free time spent with the SO, because you're newlyweds and its expected.
4. Lots of free meals from family members who either remember those moneyless days or use food to bribe you out of doing #3.
5. Crazy ideas about drastically changing everything you've ever known to save a little money (like selling your or you SO's car and becoming a one car family = problems).
6. Justification of hating certain chores (like, your disgust for washing dishes and doing laundry is because your SO LOVES to do those two things. Duh! I should've known that! I mean, you or your SO should have known that, because this list is not specific to me at all. At all.)
[Weird.]
7. Fights over which side of the couch you prefer (LEFT!).
8. The pout face when you or your SO ignores the other for other distracting and frivolous things (like facebook, or the student doctor forums, or blogs, etc.).
9. Satisfaction, because it all just feels so right.
10. Lots of unnecessary purchases and gifts (some that you will feel bad returning, but YOU MUST!) because you're young and carefree and immature and don't know any better.
11. Lots and lots and lots of the best, heartbreaking-because-its-too-much-for-one-heart-to-contain LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hope that this helps someone out there. These are definitely pertinent things that I wish someone would have shared with me before taking that ultimate dive into the freezing and bottomless depths of marriage.

BLAAGHHHHH

2010-05-19T12:10:00.000-07:00

So, I am sitting in the Ford dealership as they do fancy things to our car (ahhh... the infamous "our") the likes of which is going to cost. Big time. Like $1,000. Yep, that is three zeros that you see.

Am I regretting the $500 dollar purchase of our brand new flat screen tv that we made Monday?

Why, yes. Yes, I am. How did you know?

So, I am sitting here--have been sitting here since 10am and a lot has been happening.

Things like near panic attacks when the guy told me just how many things needed to be replaced like all four tires and coils and plugs and yadda, yadda, yadda.

Things like near fainting spells as he tallied up how much all of those things would cost.

Things like frantic texting to Hubs at the hospital and incessant phone calls to my dad, reporting these incidences of highway robbery.

Things like crying over my keyboard as I transfer $1000 from one account to another.

Things like reflecting on yesterday's catch-up of RHNYC and how I now officially hate Kelly. See, I hate her this much:

Yes, that is a volcano erupting out of Kelly Bensimon's mouth, because, she is an idiot from another planet, who really should rehearse every word that comes out of her mouth before speaking so that she doesn't make herself look any dumber or loonier than she does already. Do not mess with Bethenny, Kelly, because you will lose (Go Team Bethenny!!). And actually, I would really like to see your credentials, because I DO NOT believe that you could have ever graduated from college. Who thinks that the phrase "making lemonade out of lemons" is negative? Oh, only morons? Right, well, you're a moron.

Wow, I think that I just took all of my car frustrations out on Kelly, but I still don't like her. At all. You deserved that Kelly. You did!

Well, all of my hopes and dreams for showing you all of the things I have accomplished in my spare time will not come to fruition because I was supposed to use today (you know, my "spare time") to finish all of those things, which is really annoying because I was so excited!! Oh well. Duty calls. Or, the money-hounds. What's the difference? Hmm...

I guess that next week will be a more likely time to show you my creations. The suspense..

ON A FREAKING FANTASTIC NOTE:

If you haven't been with me long enough on here to know about my and Hubs' less than 40 day move to the Wild State, you do not know about the totally awesome job opp that I went after with teeth bared and claws flexed back in December. What was this job opp? Oh, a measly little volunteer position at the local historical society that might get my foot in the door for eventual paid employment. But this dream, well, it was dashed back in March when I learned that their budget would not allow for another employee anytime soon, so I turned my attentions elsewhere. UNTIL TODAY. Because, literally minutes ago, I received a text from the director of said society that she has found another job and would be submitting my resume for the position.

What. Wait. What.

WHAT!??

WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, I MEAN TYPE?!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!??!!?!?!?!?!

Does this mean that the Heavens have opened up and shone a light on my misery and had mercy on my poor, tortured soul?!?!

This almost makes the $1000 car bill insignificant.

ALMOST.

I'm going to go lick my money-less wounds now.

Tell me something funny. Quick!

10 Happy Thoughts & Tuesday with Monster

2010-05-18T05:18:00.000-07:00

1. Hubs and I enjoyed a delicious dinner last night at Bonefish that reminded us why we never eat out. Apparently, our tummies aren't used to rich, fatty foods. But, it was still very enjoyable in the moment of consumption.

2. By tomorrow, I should be able to show all of you what has been keeping me busy. YAY.

3. The Panther has fallen in love with the new stool that Hubs and I bought with the hopes to recover it in the fab new material we found. This is good because it keeps her off the bar and counters, but bad because it is convincing me more and more that I need to have her declawed.

4. I do NOT have to go into work on Wednesday. But, I do have to apply for a million jobs and send in my resume. Blegh.

5. GLEE. Tonight. Thank God.

6. My plans for the chic apartment in the Wild State are coming to fruition. I love that Hubs loves my style and will let me do whatever I want.

7. I am no longer pale.

8. Its called a brand new 32 inch flat screen LCD tv, baby, and its all mine. Ow, ow.

9. SEX AND THE CITY 2! Need I say more?

10. Hubs' tonsillectomy and turbinate reduction only cost us about $900. Thanks to insurance and Hubs' employee discount that was a savings of about $5,000. Cra-Zy.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tuesday with Monster

How good are those cartoons?

Take-your-pants-off-good, apparently.

Beach Bound

2010-05-14T10:52:00.000-07:00

Heading to the beach this afternoon for a weekend full of sun, vodka, sand, sun, good food and maybe some good shopping. Oh yeah, and sun.

Boy, do I ever need to get out of this town.

I need this: Hubs, blue sky, sand and sun.

I have finally just declared this my birthday weekend to make up for the crappy day that became my unbirthday.

Have I thanked you yet for the birthday wishes?
No?
Well, in that case

Un-Birthday

2010-05-13T09:58:00.000-07:00

I declare yesterday as my un-birthday, because it wasn't so great.

The hours between 8am and 11:30am sucked balls.

Yeah, those hours pretty much ruined my day.

Thank God that Hannah was there to restore me.

Her constant chatter and need to make me laugh was great.

We went to lunch at one of my favorite places, where we had great champagne.

But my lunch, a crabcake on a bed of lettuce with fennel and red peppers, well, it wasn't that great.

So then, we went shopping and I couldn't find a simple, everyday necklace or funky gold earrings.

That wasn't that great.

But then, we went to the fabric store and I found the perfect creamy suede, zebra-printed fabric to cover the lampshade for our thrift find.

That was great.

Notice a trend?

Then, I found this fabulous and sassy dress and really expensive looking cuff from Target.

All of which was totally great.

Then, I went home to find two guys still banging around on our roof, replacing it, and Hubs curled up sick on the couch.

So much for dinner plans and my clean house that had since been destroyed by rotten debris leaking from our ceiling because of all of the roof-banging.

That wasn't that great.

But then, I ate yummy leftovers of roasted red pepper risotto, asparagus and chicken cutlets.

It was great.

And then I talked to some great people who wished me a happy day, which it wasn't.

But, they were great.

And Modern Family came on, too.

Great!

Then Hubs agreed that we could pretend yesterday was not my birthday but that it was indeed my unbirthday.

And that was really, really great.

So, even though I cried myself to sleep after professing it to be the worst day ever, I am just happy to say that yesterday--the day from Hades--was my unbirthday.

I have all of my expectations on tonight's family celebration, where I am going to be VERY overdressed in my new dress and shoes and cuff. But, I don't care, because I have declared that today is my pretend birthday.

And right now that is so much better than the real thing.

Plus, I have this picture to cheer me up.

Which, how could this not cheer you up?

23

2010-05-12T03:36:00.000-07:00

Well, today, I turn old.

Or, 23.

Don't be mad at me if you are older than 23 and think that I am being ridiculous.

I have Peter Pan Syndrome and cannot be blamed for my irrational conceptions of the passage of time.

If it makes you feel better, I turned old at 19, too.

I must say that so far, I don't feel any different.

I don't feel as if an era has come and gone.

You see, when I turned 22, I was sad and yet relieved.

22 was a big year for me.

I was sad because 21 had been such a great year that I wasn't at all ready or prepared for it to end.
Technically, I was still 21 when I graduated from college (May 9). See, 21 was just FAB.

I was relieved because to tell people that I was getting married at 22 seemed to agree with them better than if I had been 21.

Things that I am NOT going to do in this 23rd year of life:

1. Apologize for my age. I am younger than everyone at work by a good 4-5 years. They are always looking at me, dripping with nostalgia, saying things like, "Gosh, if I had had at your age what you have, blah blah blah." Or, "You're only 22! You have everything ahead of you." Or, "What I wouldn't give to be your age again." Or, "You are so young." Well, SOR-RY! Its not my fault!

2. NOT strive for maturity. I feel that I lost a little bit of myself these past couple of months of being in the Real World. I was so driven and focused on being serious and being taken seriously that I would come home exhausted with no energy. I didn't feel like a young, carefree 22 year old. I turned into a perfectionist freak who could not slow down or say no or just breath. When I yelled at a coworker who began to cry over work stress, I knew that I had gone too far. Apparently, maturity for me equals zero compassion.

3. I am not going to worry about money or about whether or not I am doing enough for my future. I am just going to live. And, I'm going to love Hubs. A lot. Because in the end, that is what matters the most.

4. I am not going to rush through anything. What's the point? It makes for a crappy result that will have to be redone anyways. Why not get it done right the first go round?

5. I will not fret or worry about getting older. I will just enjoy the passage of time and the fact that it ultimately is the only thing that gets you from Point A to Point B.

And now, I will shower, go to work for a few hours and then shop and drink my way across this city with bestie, Hannah. Can't wait!

Mean as Crap

2010-05-11T06:49:00.000-07:00

It is no secret that I have a tongue capable of some lashing and a wit that's snarky to boot.

Combine these two and you get trouble. Or, you get me in trouble with Hubs for unleashing my biting sarcasm and unshakably truthful analysis of everything he or anyone else (for that matter) does.

Recently, Hubs has started this very endearing pantomime in those times of fire breathing. He flutters his fingers in the air around my head as if implying there is an imaginary banner plane flying circuits around my big head trailing this statement,

Mean as Crap:

For No Reason!!!!!

Very cute, Hubs.

To this I usually respond with my own version of an imaginary banner plane circling somewhere around Hubs that says,

Really Unnecessarily Annoying!!!

Touche, dear.

Example:

Sometimes Hubs is not the most attentive driver. He is a severe creature of habit. This trait sometimes oddly enough translates into driving. Like, we are driving down a road that if you were to take a right at the next light would take you to his mother's house. So, as we are driving down this road, heading for home, Hubs automatically gets in the right lane to take a right, when we should be in the left lane preparing to make a left.
See, habit.

So, I say with a bit of sarcasm,
"Where ya going there, slick?"

Hubs' response: Wiggling his fingers somewhere near my left ear, he says,
"Mean as crap: For no reason."

I attempt to bite my tongue and the laughter creeping up the back of my throat and say,
"Just making sure you didn't drive us to China and back."

He says,
"I'm going to go and cry in a corner now."

I say,
"Well, make it fast, I've got a lot to do in the next hour."

Example:
Its 10:30pm and we are laying in bed.
Hubs is setting his alarms.
I roll over to him and say,
"I disagree with your 4:30am alarm clock."
He rolls his eyes at me.
"I don't approve of it."
He turns on his 4:30am alarm clock.
"I don't think its fair that I have to be subjected to your 4:30am alarm clock. Its against my constitutional rights."
He calls me mean.

I know that you are all thinking I am the worst wife ever, but I love Hubs with my whole heart and soul and would never do or say anything to hurt his feelings.

But, I do love to tease him until he is forced to invent such fantastical things as the banner plane.

Which is frankly just classic and made me just want to pick on him even more or throw him down and submit him..

Oh, yeah. We think it probably looks something like this:

Happy Mother-to-a-Fur-Baby-Day to Me

2010-05-10T03:37:00.000-07:00

So, I told the Panther: "Panther, do you know what would be the best Mother-to-a-Fur-Baby-Day present ever????"

Panther:

The Panther, Fall 2007

Me: "Mommy would really appreciate it if you would stay off of the kitchen counter and bar. You see, Mommy is a little sick of cleaning up your black hair that is literally everywhere. So, could you maybe do that for Mommy? It sure would save me some paper towels and frustration and money since every time I drop a piece of fruit on the counter and then have to throw it away because it has hair on it."

Panther:

The Panther, Spring 2009

Me: "You know, booger, Mommy would also really like it if you could wipe off your paws every time you exited the litterbox instead of running out fullspeed and jumping on the couch. I don't really enjoy sitting in a pile of gravely, scented litter. Think you could work on that one, freak?"

Panther:

The Panther, Fall 2007

Me: "I was serious about the whole shedding thing. Think that we could come up with a solution for that before the big move to the Wild State, because Mommy really has her heart set on white couch covers?"

Panther:

The Panther, Summer 2008

Me: "Or maybe we could talk about how every time you eat wet food you slobber it all over the tile, where it hardens and grosses Mommy out. Well, Panther, if you don't think you can do any of that, I guess that means I will have to work out a present of my own. Its BATH TIME!"

Panther:

The Panther, Spring 2009

Me: "I guess that means that I will just have to get myself a present, too."

New, fab earrings ($5) for me (with no makeup on) and the Panther, drying in the background

Cutting the Fat

2010-05-08T14:35:00.000-07:00

No more whining!
No more tirades!
No more rants!

Because this blog does nothing but bring out my snarky, pessimistic and criminally cynical thoughts, comments and unending blubbering, I have decided that my next 5 posts will have nothing but happy thoughts.

If you can't say anything nice, you should shut the ef up. (On a sidenote: I don't use the "f" word. Never have, never will. Its dirtay.)

So, here's me shutting the ef up.

-----------

And because I have done nothing but watch trash tv for the past couple of days, allowing me to catch up on some old favorites and get into some new favorites, I am having a (positive) dish on reality tv.

-Real Housewives of NYC:
Oh. MY. God. This past episode has me bawling into my bowl of rice (I was having some tummy issues that reduced me to the BRATT diet). I just want to call up Bethenny and give her the biggest hug ever. How awful are things for her right now in what should be the best time of her life???

And Alex, thank you for having the balls to put Jill in her place. Jill used to be my favorite housewife, but lately she has been frustrating the heck out of me. She really is a mean girl, who must be the center of attention.

"Jill? Bri calling. Can we have the old Jill back now? This one is sassy and funny at times, but is obviously attempting to overcompensate for the misery that her life has become since she cutout Bethenny."

And I actually have something nice to say about Ramona for once. These past two episodes have really changed my thoughts on Crazy Eyes. She does have a censor! And a heart!

I never have anything nice to say about the ~~Countless~~ Countess. (That was a typo!)

-The Hills
Oh. My. My. My. Heidi. Heidi. Heidi. I can't say anything nice about that transformation either, Heidi's mom. So, don't worry, you aren't the only one.

And, I could never have anything nice to say about Spencer. He's into crystals now though. Weird-O. (That's not mean. That's the truth.)

Audrina - Ryan Cabrera??? Really?????

Krsitin -

Lo - You are way too good to be on that show anymore.

Stephanie - Good for you for not drinking in Miami!

-The City
I discovered the entire last season of this on mtv.com and am currently obsessed!! I mean now that LC is gone from The Hills, I seriously doubt that Lo will be able to hold my attention. I really have never had nice thoughts about Kristin, but if I can have Whitney, I say that's just as good as The Hills with LC.

NICEST THING I COULD EVER SAY:

I WANT TO BE WHITNEY. I want to look like her. I want to dress like her. I want to wear a size -6 like her. Oh. Wow.

Ready to Move On

2010-05-07T04:02:00.000-07:00

I am so bored with and sick of Columbia.

I am going stir crazy and I want out. NOW.

I think that my lifetime aversion for this city has been thus far masked by the whole newlywed thing. So far all of that marriage bliss mumbo jumbo has kept me occupied, happy and willing to not think about where we live, because I am living here with Hubs and that is perfection.

But, after 10 months (TEN MONTHS!!!!) of living here, I am ready for a change. I am literally on the edge of my seat, waiting to move to the Wild State. Crazy, huh?

I know that it is all my fault. I have never seen Columbia as home, never wanted to. It has always been a place of transition for me--a place for Hubs and I to just hang out (so to speak) until we moved on to the Wild State and then who knows where after that.

------------------------------------------------

God. I complain so much.
What this post really should have been about was how incredibly blessed I am to have been able to live in three different places in the span of 4 years and not about how miserable I am in this perfectly wonderful city.
Its funny (in an ironic not hilarious way) how quickly and easily we can be put in our place, reminded of our blessings.

I quite literally just received a text message from Hubs informing me that a man has just chosen to die this morning.
This man is the husband of an OR nurse that works very closely with Hubs on a daily basis.
This man has been on a ventilator for close to a month now.
As a child, he had his entire chest cavity radiated to treat the lymphoma that would kill him.
The early treatment completely destroyed his lung and heart tissue that now in his middle age can no longer support him.
He chose this morning to take himself off the of the ventilator that he can't live without.
Hubs said that today would be a long and painful day for him as he struggled to breath in his final breaths, but that today would be his last.

There's nothing quite like perspective to kick you in the ass and show you who's boss. And, I am talking about myself here.

I wonder what that sweet man would give to have just one more week in this city, or one more day with his beloved wife and children.

I should be shouting from the rooftops, "I LIVE IN COLUMBIA. AND I LOVE IT!"
because that would mean that I am still here--that I am still alive.

And if that's the case, then I guess that I really having nothing to complain about, do I?

If you have a chance and think about, send up a thought or prayer or whatever your form of well-wishing is for Richard.

Thirsty Thursday

2010-05-06T10:23:00.000-07:00

First of all, this post has nothing to do with alcohol.

Actually, this post has nothing to do with anything really. I am currently biting my cyber-tongue.

You see, I have issues.

Issues like I ran out of deodorant in between armpits on Sunday morning, which meant that one armpit smelled powdery and clean like the Dove deodorant that it was sporting, while the other armpit smelled like Hubs and his tangy Speed Stick (because we had to be on the road in 5 minutes and its summer in the south, you know). The issue is that today, both of my armpits smell like Hubs and his tangy Speed Stick. Because, I haven't put Lazy in timeout and brought Proactive out of the closet yet and bought more deodorant.

Who knows if my armpits will ever again smell like powdery Dove? Who. knows.

I also have issues like I should actually be doing something about these 5 L.B.s that I want to rid myself of than daydreaming about magically being 5 L.B.s lighter without having to do anything (like getting off the couch and actually moving for once). Or, maybe if those 5 L.B.s could just migrate to the chest region, that would show that issue where to stick it. Maybe Hubs should invent a fat migration thingie that wouldn't require any cutting or slicing or dicing and zero recovery time. We could be MILLIONAIRES!

I have issues with my inappropriate outbursts at work. Like its probably not the best idea to yell, "You suck balls!" at the community laptop with your boss training a new (and impressionable) employee in the next room. But no matter what else I try, there are no other words or phrases that quite adequately express my true feelings in a moment like that simple and degrading statement.

I have issues with politics. Its. Just. Not. Worth. It. I am now apolitical. Thanks!

I have issues with blogs (but not with yours, dear reader) right now. I find so many of them to be boring (yawn) and a waste of the infinite cyberspace (and, that's saying something).

And now, I'm unleashing my tongue:

(Warning: Do not read beyond this point if you have any sensitive feelings about the Twilight Series. And by sensitive, I mean that if you in any way, shape or form loved that series, you should not read past this point.)

This is a rant about Stephenie Meyer and her stupid Twilight books (I warned you!).

A little background:
I put off reading these books for the longest time--through workshop after workshop of fellow students who whined and complained about her poor writing and weak characters and sloppy plot line and the fact that all of that badness rolled into one has made her a millionaire. But the news coverage of hundreds of screaming teenage girls and their mothers practically clawing off their faces in excitement for the release of books 3 and 4 haunted me until I finally vowed to see what all of the hysteria was about.

I read the first book. In two days. And not because it was that great, but because I was trying to get to the my-life-has-changed-forever-because-of-this-book part.

Hmm.. I never got to it.

(Nice) Thoughts:
-Mrs. Meyer had a good idea
-Mrs. Meyer knows her audience and knows how to satisfy them

(Truthful) Thoughts:
-I hated most everything about the majority of her main characters. In fact, the only characters that I actually believed and liked were Sheriff Swan, Carlisle and Rosalie.
-I did not like Bella at all. She was such a cliche. Cliche: Her pale skin that never tanned (like we didn't know right then that she would eventually become a vampire). Cliche: Her aversion for blood (give me a break..). Cliche: Her accident-proneness that often resulted in blood spurting from her body within the vicinity of a hungry and/or "new" human-abstaining vampire (ookkk). Cliche: Her rekindled childhood friendship with Jacob Black, who just happened to be a part of a tribe that also just happened to be the fated enemies of the bloodsuckers. Blah, Blah, Blah.
-Edward: his description did not sound at all attractive to me; he was kind of corny (and yes, I know that he was from the early 1900s, but you would think that he would have picked up some of the newer lingo, right?); he seemed more like an animal to me than a bloodless monster
-Mrs. Meyer's vampires: I did not like most of her vampire characteristics. I did not like the fact that they were hard as stone, cold as ice, without blood, didn't have to breath, could run faster than the speed of sound, didn't have to sleep (break out the caskets!! just kidding...), etc., etc. I could quite honestly go on and on.
-My main issue with all of her vampire characteristics was that she made her vampire characters appear so human (feelings, looks, interactions) that to remove so many of those familiar human characteristics from them made it too unbelievable for me. I know, I know. Its fiction/fantasy, you aren't supposed to believe it because it isn't true. But that is where I disagree. The whole reason you read a book or watch a movie or see a play is because you are willfully believing (in make-believe) that what is happening on the page or on the screen or on the stage is real and that those characters are people or that those people are not actors, but they are in fact those characters that they are portraying. Confused yet?

My point is that I was not at all willing to believe that those characters were who they (or she) said they were. And the movie, which could have veered enough from the plot and characters to be good, failed.

I read the 2nd book soon after the first and that was the worst of both.

How convenient that love triangle between Bella, Edward (the vampire) and Jacob (the werewolf and the vampire's mortal enemy). Cle-Ver. But, not really.

And the acting in the movie. Ew. Not good.

So the whole reason for this rant was to set the stage for my final issue:

I had the best dream the other morning where I was a vampire. I don't remember my dreamself being made of stone or not having a pulse, and I definitely needed to breath. But, I do remember being hot and muggy and miserable. So, I asked my fellow vampire (who happened to be one of my coworkers) why I was so hot. I said, "I can't be hot right now. I'm a vampire! And the Twilight books said that vampires are perpetually cold and made of stone. I should be cool and comfortable right now and not hot!"

Needless to say, I woke up in a bad mood because I allowed Stephenie Meyer's ideas of vampires and what they are and are not made of determine my very first experience as a vampire. And it was a bummer.

Side note: Although I did not venture beyond the 2nd book, I know that Edward impregnates Bella in the 4th book. How could a being made of stone with ice cold skin and no blood harbor sperm? Just asking!

Because Sometimes I'm Just a Big, Fat Snob

2010-05-04T07:34:00.000-07:00

(DISLAIMER: You may or may not completely and utterly hate my guts upon reading this post. Just saying.)

It is oh so true that sometimes I can be a Snob (notice the pretentious capitalization of the word; its like that).

Hubs and I sat down to list out all of the areas of my life in which I am a Snob (which he likes to point out and laugh about because I am ridiculous and he loves me for it) or take on Snobbish tendencies or the totally unqualified and Snobby, preconceived notions I often harbor.

The list was long (embarrassingly long, even for a Snob) after which Hubs decided a list of those things about which I am not a Snob would be much easier, much shorter and yet, still Snobby.

So, here is the list of the things about which I am not a Snob:

1. Cheezits - They are just too fantastically cheesy, salty and crunchy that to not love them with one's entire heart and soul would be a tragedy.

2. Ramen noodles - A childhood addiction that has carried over into adulthood, because nothing satisfies my need-to-gnaw-on-a-salt-lick-taste buds like those sodium-filled noodles of yum.

3. Shells and Cheese - Notice the cheesy, full of sodium trend here? Its bad!

4. I love Rite Aid brand products. There are zero Snob-feelings towards that magical Rite Aid brand salve that I slather all over my face twice a day. It is made of miracles and rainbows and baby bottoms.

5. Workout clothes--I live in them. Literally. And I don't care what you think (because I'm a Snob), because I meant to wear these workout pants even though I have no intention of working out.

6. The only makeup that I wear is face lotion, mascara and chapstick.

Well, that about sums up that list.

Now, on to a few of the things that allow me to call myself "Snob."

1. I am a huge grocery store Snob. I only like Publix, Earth Fare and Whole Foods. If I cannot shop at one of these 3 places, I will only buy brand name items and will gawk over the produce and meat selections until I can talk myself into actually touching either.

2. If I buy canned anything, it is brand name. And the only canned items that I buy are black beans, whole, peeled tomatoes (because if Giada and Barefoot Contessa can do it, so can I!) and sometimes if its the dead of winter and I can't get the fresh stuff, canned corn. And, Hubs and I do enjoy canned tuna, but only the kind packed in olive oil that costs $2.50 a can.

3. I do not go to Walmart for two main reasons. Reason 1: That store is entirely too big for its own good. And now, they sell caskets (freak-y). Reason 2: The people that shop at Walmart. Because for most of those people, going to Walmart is there one trip "out" for the week. And that is sad and oftentimes makes for very strange people, who I always seem to have run-ins with and would not want to meet in a dark alley or come cart-to-cart with in any Walmart aisle.

4. I may love TJMAXX, but I love it for its brand names. I will not buy anything from there unless it is a brand that I could buy in a reputable department store.

5. You would not catch me dead in the Junior's department of TJMAXX (am I crossing a line here?).

6. I don't drink wine, but if I did drink wine, I would be too much of a Snob to order the house wine.

7. I have no problem, however, ordering the house liquor. But that is because I only drink vodka tonics or cosmos and I see these as sophisticated and Snobby enough to not have to be made with an expensive liquor (my [ir]rationality is always an exception to my every Snob rule; and, I don't really have snob rules: I am a mere product of my parents' snob world).

8. I don't do rhinestones. If I can't have the real thing, I don't want to fake like I can.

9. I don't eat at chain restaurants (except for Bonefish Grill, because God Almighty, their bang-bang shrimp and salmon salad is unbelievable). And if I do, I don't order anything with a protein, because I have it in my brain that it is all processed and made of crushed up bones and sand.

10. I only wear 100% cotton underwear.

11. I love to go thrift-shopping for household items, but instantly itch all over as soon as I walk into a thrift store. I feel very dirty and imagine that I have microscopic bugs crawling all over me. I also will not touch any part of my face after entering a thrift store until I am able to wash my hands with soap and very hot water. (One time, I scratched my eye and literally thought that it was swelling to twice the size of my head, but it was just my imagination and phobia playing tricks on me.)

12. I DO NOT buy clothes from thrift stores. I just can't get past the fact that other people have worn, sweated in, and have most likely spilled bodily fluids on any and all of those garments. Blegh.

13. But my oxy-moronic self will only buy OLD things (think, furniture), which means that I have to visit thrift stores. I just need to get over myself.

I think that for right now, this is all that I will divulge of my inner-Snob, because I am beginning to hate myself.

I hope you don't hate me though.

I love charities and being green! I braked for a squirrel this morning! And, I will probably eat vegetarian for lunch. I am trying to save history, one building at a time.

Don't. Hate. Me.

So Saturday

2010-05-01T20:47:00.000-07:00

You had the potential to be a very annoying day.

For one, huge, problematic reason: WORK.

But, Saturday, you started out not so bad (except of course for the whole WORK thing). Oh yeah, and the horrible nightmare circa 7:30 this morning. This was a very bad dream indeed (in vivid color) complete with kidnapping, fire, murder and escape. That is all of the detail that I can get into right now, because I'm trying not to remember just how bad it was.

Besides the nightmare, Hubs was cuter than ever (in his soft pjs and sleep-stained face). The coffee was hot and strong. The pancakes (made by sleepy and very cute Hubs) were delicious as always.

And for once, I wasn't rushed getting out the door to be at work by 9:30. Thanks Universe.

The forecast called for storms and rain and thunder and RAIN! Which I thought meant that work (which consists of house tours of three of our house museums) would be minimal if not nonexistant.

WRONG.

But, the first tour was actually kind of enjoyable. Its nice to have people who are actually genuinely interested in what you are saying (and who are also more interested in learning something new than repeating much of the crap that they have picked up on other tours, because people who take tours of historic house museums are historic house museum ADDICTS and have been to almost every house museum that exists and are therefore experts, apparently).

I don't even want to get into the tour bus of 55 people (mostly very bored children) fiasco. Let's just say that it could have been really really bad, but turned out to be a welcome break in the day.

And then, there was my JimmyJohn's Turkey Tom sub with spicy mustard and provolone cheese that I had for lunch. That made things really good.

But then, there were the last two tours with the know-it-all Harley couple, who were way more interested in informing me about the history of MY FREAKING HOUSES than listening to my tour. DEEP BREATH.

But right after that, there was my sweet Hubs come to take me home.

We didn't go home though. Oh no, we stopped by the house that we will be housesitting next week to visit with the family and the sweet pups that we will be keeping. That was a nice little chat by the pool (that I am so taking advantage of all next week) with both dogs laying their heads in my lap because they love me and I love them.

And then, after that, because Hubs loves me more than life, we went thrifting. And for once, we actually found 2 really great things!!! And, as soon as I find a place for them and complete one of them, I will be sure to post pictures. SOOOOO EXCIIIITED.

Then, it was home to cook our yummy veggie lo mein that we have down to an art. We watched our habitual episodes of Friends, which I am only now beginning to appreciate and enjoy and couldn't go without.

When our tummies began to rumble for dessert, we went to the store. I had cupcakes on the gut and made a bee-line for the baking aisle. Hubs seemed at first very surprised and excited at the prospect of cupcakes. But, when we reached the cake mixes, Hubs and I began to argue over yellow vs. white cake mix (which who doesn't like yellow cake by the way!? Well, Hubs, apparently....). Then, Hubs informed me that he didn't really even want cupcakes. This resulted in me stomping up to the shelf and replacing the box of yellow cake mix, while I simultaneously ripped a box of white cake mix off the shelf and shoved it in the basket. Hubs picked up the white cake mix and went to place it back on the shelf. He put the yellow cake mix in the basket. I snatched it back out of the basket and told him that I was no longer in the mood for cupcakes. He said that we would make them anyways. I said that we didn't even have a cupcake pan. He said that we had mini cupcake pans (that fit in a toaster oven). I rolled my eyes and huffed, "Are you kidding? That would NOT be worth it." During this entire exchange, the Publix manager was restocking shelves all around us and finally asked if we needed help to which Hubs responded that we did not. And I responded with "No thanks. He is just really annoying me right now." Hubs then walked away and began to pore studiously over the jelly selection and tried to be all buddy-buddy with me about finding a seedless blackberry jam on sale. To which I replied, "I'm not helping you do ANYTHING right now." I stomped off mumbling under my breath about how annoying Hubs can be, when he made a brilliant comment about how we should maybe pick up some Green and Black organic dark chocolate to which I responded, "Sure, babe. Get whaaateeever you want. I don't care what you get! I'm getting a freaking candybar!!!" I got a butterfinger and reeses cups (which in the end weren't that great) and then I grabbed a thing of dark chocolate for Hubs, because even though he drives me absolute bonkers sometimes, I still love him and think of ways to please him.

We checked out and took our bags back to the car. Our next mission was to rent a movie from the movie box. But there was a line. As we waited in the parking lot (sitting on the back bumper of our car and staring down the really skinny girls getting movies from the box waiting very impatiently for them to finish), I informed Hubs that the solution to that whole cupcake argument could have been avoided had he just pretended that he did really want the cupcakes. And then, when I thought about it all, I demanded to know why he was going to make me get white cake mix when he knew that he wasn't even in the mood for cupcakes anyways. (NOW, I'M ANNOYED AGAIN.) So, after the too skinny girls got their movies, we tried to rent Its Complicated but the stupid movie box refused to give it up (which was a total bummer), so we had to get Men Who Stare at Goats, which was really weird and I still don't get, but it had some really funny parts (like when they were all tripping on acid--that was funny).

So, now, the day is nearly done and I can honestly say that it wasn't that bad. Just another day in the life of the Student Doctor and Me.

Dreamland

2010-04-30T04:35:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am one of those incredibly annoying people who has vivid, in techni-color dreams, and am one of those people who likes to recount those aforementioned dreams all the while stifling my uncontrollable giggles.

Because, I have dreams comparable to hallucinations induced by very illegal, very strong and very bad for you drugs, like LSD (which I totally just texted Hubs, asking which drug is the most extreme hallucinogen, and his response was, "lsd is the benchmark for an extreme hallucinogen. also mescalin, which is in psychedelic mushrooms." And no, Hubs does not do drugs--except of course for his brief stint with codeine, which thank God that is over--but he is a man. And men like to "research" things because they are kind of obsessive and have to know every minute detail of anything they like or would like to do. Like right now, Hubs does a lot of "research" on fixed gear bikes since he just built one; and before that it was Italian menswear because that man can dress; and then before that it was boats because he was obsessed with fishing for a while; and then before that it was Tahoes because he's always wanted one; and sometime back before he met me, it was drugs, because he thought they were cool? Not sure really. Hmm.)

The prime dream time for me would be the 20 or so minutes between Hubs' alarm and his eventual return to the bedroom, where I am still snoozing and dreaming. (On a sidenote, which I think I have divulged on here somewhere already, every time Hubs walks into the bedroom post-shower, he asks, "Are you ready, babe?" Granted, I am still asleep. In the bed. With the sheets pulled up to my nose. All the lights are still out. And, I AM ASLEEP. So every time he asks this, in my head, I scream back at him: "DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M READY?!" I'm not a morning person. Repeat: I am not a morning person.)

I have always had very vivid dreams and most times, I remember these dreams.

When I was younger, I had recurring dreams (always the scary ones).

For example, I had this one dream for a few years, where I was watching Oprah and she was doing a show on "baby dumps." Morbid, right? It was a nightmare that would wake me up every night nearly in tears. It wasn't a long dream. It always began with her (Oprah) introducing the segment and then went to videos of the dumps, piled high with dead babies. I don't remember what the story was behind the dumps and that is all that the dream consisted of, but it scared me every time.

Another of my recurring, childhood dreams was one in which my mom left my brother and I in our van while she ran into a store. A gang of Mexicans (I know that this is totally un-PC, which doesn't really bother me, but I'm just relating the details here, so no angry comments!) broke into the van and carried both of us off. I always woke up after that part.

Weird, right?

I don't really have scary dreams anymore, and if I do, I don't remember them. But, I do have these horrible dreams as I'm falling asleep that I hate with a passion.

I have dreams where I am eating something and begin to choke and can't get whatever is stuck in my throat out. I also have dreams where I am swimming or near water and all of a sudden I am under the water, trying to get to the surface, but never make it. I call them the choking and drowning nightmares, and they are a nightly occurrence. I think that it has to do with my biggest fear of dying due to asphyxiation. I think that they must be like the falling dreams that all you normal people out there have, but of course, those easy-peasy dreams are not for me. I wake up each night gasping for breath because I had most likely been holding it, thinking that if I breathed, a deluge of water or a chunk of steak would flood my lungs. Fun times.

But, the best dreams are those early morning dreams that I love to relate to Hubs as I drunkenly (on sleep) drive him to work, unless I am super annoyed at having to be awake that early, which is a likely occurrence.

I will now relate to you 3 of my most recent and more interesting dreams:

1. (the most recent) I have dreams where I am pregnant or have just given birth A LOT. And, I don't know why. Because, I definitely do not want kids right now, so that might be the reason why I dream I am pregnant and so vividly that I wake up grasping my stomach searching for a lovely lady bump. Thank God I haven't found one yet. Anyways, in this most recent dream, I had just given birth and took my very large newborn (think, toddler-sized, who looked a lot like Monster oddly enough) to a restaurant for some grub (I guess?). We (the babe and I) weren't eating, just sitting in a booth as my large, Monster-like baby ran up and down the cushioned seat, when one of Hubs' real-life coworkers came up to me shaking her head (this coworker is a very sweet woman and would never say anything like this to me, but this is how it went in Dreamland). She said, "Oh darling, this is not going to work." I looked at her timidly, while wrangling in my very large baby and asked, "What do you mean?" "This," she said as she waved her hand from the top of my head to the floor. "You know that you have got to look better than this if you want to keep that husband of yours," she said. And, I was looking rough. Let's just say that the baby wasn't the only large person at the table, and I had frizzy hair (yikes)."But, I just gave birth," I said. "It doesn't matter," she said. "You really think that's going to make a difference to him?" IT DARN WELL BETTER, I thought, as I woke up in a nasty mood. But, remembering the dream only made me laugh. Hubs didn't find it that funny. Oh well.

2. The other week I had a very colorful dream, where I was at summer camp (yes, as a 22 year old, married woman) with Hubs (who never looks like Hubs in my dreams). We were sitting by an indoor pool waiting for swimming lessons, (oh, it gets better), when all of a sudden a flood of girls and guys in Vegas showgirl attire burst through the doors and began the most colorful and extravagant synchronized swimming routine that I have ever seen in my life. The girls were squeezed into sequined bodysuits and lavish hair and makeup. Hubs and I sat there awestruck as this elaborate show went on and on. It was like an Italian opera without the singing. There was a love triangle, as the red-sequined girl fought with the blue-sequined girl over the white-sequined guy. It was incredible. And all of the people in the show were made up of all of the popular public school kids (I was a private schooler) from my hometown, which made it that much better. Now that I type it out, it doesn't seem that cool, but honestly, who dreams about synchronized swimming????

3. The final and my favorite dream that still gives me a good laugh happened a few weeks ago. I was on a boardwalk somewhere that I have never been before (although it kind of reminded me of the atrium part of cruise ships), waiting for Hubs. Except that dream Hubs was not the tall, dark and handsome real-life Hubs. Instead, he was short, kind of squatty with long blond hair (and some other facial hair that I will get to) with major marijuana breath. As soon as this dream Hubs walked up to me, I started to hound him for his long hair. I said that it was embarrassing; it looked sloppy; would he please have it cut. This dream Hubs got very defensive, asked why I wanted to change him and mold him into something that he clearly wasn't; if I couldn't accept him for who he was, then maybe we shouldn't be together (which is nothing at all like my sweet, real-life Hubs). So, I gave in and said, "Well, fine, if you feel that way, I don't want you to cut your hair. But, the french-braided nose hair and mustache have got to go!" And then, I woke up giggling.

Do you have strange, psychedelic dreams? And by psychedelic, I mean that sometimes, my dreams look like this:

Oh the worries..

2010-04-28T04:12:00.000-07:00

I get the worries a lot.

For example:

-I worry that Hubs and I are complete bores. My biggest fear is that we are wasting our youth. You see, we don't exactly have any friends here in Columbia. I think that it was up in the air for a while as to whether or not we would even live in Columbia and then we knew that it would only be for about 10 months, so we kind of just didn't make friends.
That sounds awful, but its the truth.
Most weekends, are spent visiting my family or his or doing absolutely nothing.
Or, my other MAJOR worry is taking place and that means isolation for hours at a time....

-Hubs called me a workaholic the other day (and I totally think he has something there). Its so funny that after months of begging for any type of employment, I have been for the last couple of months drowning in jobs.
I just can't say no.
And I know why.
I can't say no because after begging month after month for more opportunities to work, I am finally getting my wish and it would be so unfair for me to say thanks but no thanks. I'm good with what I have right now.
But I worry about this.
I worry about whether or not I am a workaholic.
And the scary part is that I know I am.
I like being useful.
I like doing something.
If I'm not doing something that matters then I am doing the complete opposite and being really, really lazy.
And I am sick of Hubs working his butt off everyday while I just sit around and wish that I had a job and could do something to contribute.
Now that I have jobs and am making as much money as Hubs, I feel much more secure.
And it has gotten rid of a pretty big worry: Are we going to make it through this month without having to call my parents for a favor.
And that feels really good.

-I am always worried that I'm going to run out of gas. As soon as the light comes on, I have to get to a gas station. (And I absolutely hate getting gas. Even if Hubs is 10 minutes late for work and the light comes on, I worry and fret over the gas situation until he sighs and tells me to pull off at a station and he fills up for me. He's just the best ever.)

-I always worry that when I return to the cottage after a few hours of being gone that it will be burned to the ground.

-Before I go to get a movie from the redbox, I worry that other people will come in to rent or return movies and they will form a long line behind me, tapping their feet impatiently, sighing and craning over my shoulder the whole time. I like to take my time finding a movie and hate to feel all bothered and have to rush.

-I always worry that I am going to say exactly what I am thinking. Because you see, I am very opinionated and don't mind in the least sharing my thoughts, but sometimes it just isn't appropriate. And I don't think that my filter has distinguished between appropriate and inappropriate. Isn't that what a filter is for anyways?

-I worry that my next trip to TJMAXX might result in a hissy fit as I finally tell off one of the shopping cart ladies, who tries to run me over or push me out of the way with their cart to bug off. SHOPPING CARTS SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED IN THAT STORE. I don't get why older women think that they can hurry my browsing along because they are older and are wielding a cart. I'm not afraid of you, cart women!

-I worry constantly that Hubs is bored or annoyed or frustrated with me. Silence (even while we are watching tv) makes me nervous. You see, I enjoy a running commentary during tv-watching. Commercials are mandatory analytic breaks. Like, I enjoy discussing the mind-blowing renditions of pop songs and show tunes by the Glee cast. Hubs just likes to listen.

-Now, I'm always worried that I will receive comments from angry bloggers. Scaryy..

What worries do you ALWAYS have?

Sad Times

2010-04-27T07:48:00.000-07:00

There was a story on the Today show yesterday morning that made me sick to my stomach. I couldn't believe that something like that could happen anywhere in America, but then I remembered stories from past years about the same ignorance and thoughtlessness that eventually resulted in a death.

Did you hear about the man, dubbed "Good Samaritan" in NYC, who was stabbed and left to die on the sidewalk after helping a woman being mugged?

Well, not only did I hear the full news report, but I also saw the surveillance video of the man lying face-down on the sidewalk, dying. It showed 25 people walk by and not help in the hour and 20 minutes that he laid there before police finally showed up.

I am not blaming the police. How should they know that a man was lying on the sidewalk helpless as he bled to death internally?

I am blaming the 25 people who walked by and did nothing. Granted, it was late at night and most of them probably assumed that he was some bum or drunk passed out on the sidewalk.

But, I have to wonder about the guy who flipped him over, took one look and then walked away. Did he not see the wounds or the blood? Did he even think for one second, the least I can do is call the cops?

And then I think about the guy who laughed, took out his phone, snapped a picture and walked away. Did he not wonder at all about why a man would be lying in the middle of the sidewalk obviously unconscious?

Those thoughts didn't leave me all day. And they were especially poignant as I drove down the interstate and every car in front of me on the four lane highway simultaneously slammed on the brakes as five cars in nearly synchronized moves pulled onto the shoulder.

Why, you might ask, did these five cars risk the lives of every single person driving along behind them?

Because, there was a wild cat on the side of the road, who needed rescuing, I guess. At least, I assumed that the reasons for their frenzied moves upon exiting their vehicles were weak attempts to wrangle the wild cat to safety.

And rather than be relieved that the animal was receiving the helpful attention that it obviously needed, I just wanted to pull over and give those idiot drivers a piece of my mind.

How ridiculous is our society that we would risk our lives and the countless other lives hanging in the balance of our quick decision-making as we slam on the brakes and swerve through four lanes of traffic for an animal that in all likelihood will only claw out our eyeballs as we attempt to rescue it, but we won't check on the well-being of a hero as he lay bleeding to death on the sidewalk?

Where are our priorities?

I love animals--like I cry when I see an opossum run over and almost go into hysterics if I see a cat or dog that has been hit, but I don't love them enough to risk the lives of my fellow commuters to save one. Had I seen the animal in time to pull safely over to the side of the road, I would have done so. But, slamming on brakes as you hurl 80 mph down the highway could be lethal.

And, it just seemed so wrong after watching that news report. So wrong that our society holds the life of an animal higher than the life of a fellow man.

It just makes me sad, very sad indeed to consider the likelihood of 5 cars swerving over to the side of the highway to help someone lying helpless on the ground.

What would you do in such a situation?

I think that there is no doubt that from here on out, I will act even if it is to just call the police and let them know about the passed-out drunk lying on his face in the middle of the sidewalk.

You just never know when your faulty assumptions could mean life or death.

________________________________________________________________________________

Tuesdays are Monster and Aunt Beezy Days, and today was a sad time, too:

Warning:

2010-04-26T03:48:00.000-07:00

This new banner is unlikely to last for any significant amount of time.

I have been putting off this creative process for as long as possible because,

1. I am a psycho-perfectionist-freak who can't leave well enough alone.
2. Hubs may or may not divorce me during the process of huffing when he doesn't give a full and detailed explanation of what he "really thinks about what I've just done, because this is for the internet and its about us and you have to like it" or when he can no longer stand my constant cursing of Photoshop and all of my inadequacies which spring from that its-all-German-to-me-program.
3. I am a trial and error kind of gal, and this is only trial #3. I hope that none of you stumbled upon trials 1 and 2 yesterday.

So, I am just warning you now that this banner (though quite nice at the moment) may not last very long. And, I just want you all to know that this is expected and is not a product of flakiness or indecision on my part. It just means that its imperfections could be ignored no longer.

(Like, its already really bugging me that the title is not centered between the images............................... huff.................................darn Photoshop.......................................)

___________________________________________________________________________________

In other news, we are back to the 5am wake-up call, as today is Hubs' first day back to work after his tonsillectomy. I must say that 5am does not go well with a 1am bedtime. Needless to say, I did not crawl back into bed this morning after dropping Hubs off, because I am not sure that I would wake up anytime soon, and I kind of have a real job now.

I kind of have a busy day today, too, which is good and bad.

Good, because I like to be busy and I will be making a good amount of money for our TV fund (which is up to $195 now!) and means that we should be able to buy our dream TV in about 2 weeks.

Bad, because it means that I have to be showered and completely ready by 8am, which is a big stretch for me. Typically, no matter how early I begin, I never make it to work before 8:25am. Its like the Universe is against me getting to work any earlier. But this morning, Universe, I will win, because I will be wearing my new, super fly white jeans. You just can't mess with white jeans--not even you, Universe.

Random facts (which I have recently learned) on a Monday morning:

1. Did you know that over 80% of pornography is downloaded at Panera and Starbucks? (Its because they have open networks, making individual transactions impossible to trace.)
2. Did you know that adding cold cream or milk to hot potatoes (in making mashed potatoes) will produce a gloopy mess? (Its because the cold liquid causes the starch in the potatoes to bind.)
3. Did you know that in California rental property owners must clean from top to bottom between tenants? (Not so in SC or WV, where the cleaning responsibility is left up to the departing tenants, who NEVER clean by the way.)
4. Have you ever noticed that some magazines in the grocery store check-out line (think: Cosmo) have plastic or metal sheets covering the front of the magazine? (That is to block obscene images--like nearly naked men and women--from the innocent eyes of children and other innocents, because in the 80s, those magazine covers were considered soft porn.)
5. Did you know that the movie I Love You, Man is quite possibly the worst movie ever? (I absolutely hate sitting through movies that make me embarrassed for the main character, and let's just say that Paul Rudd's character made me uncomfortable for the entire movie.)

On reality tv:

1. I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT EMILIO SOSA DID NOT WIN PROJECT RUNWAY. That just broke my heart. I loved his sassy color. Seth Aaron did a great job and really surprised me. In fact, there were quite a few of his pieces that I would have worn. But, how could Michael Kors forgive that awful purple bondage piece??? How, MK????
2. I think that Ramona (RHNYC) is insane. She has no filter. And those eyes? That runway walk and her "question" for Jill about Kodak being behind the times (which she asked at a Kodak party, hosted by Jill) sealed her fate for me. Class-less, Ramona. Tsk, tsk.
3. I think I am obsessed with 9 By Design. I kind of want to be them (except maybe for the whole 7-kids-thing). If you don't know what I'm talking about, hulu it. Can I use Hulu as a verb?
4. I have given up on the second half of Biggest Loser since it interferes with Glee (whose Madonna episode was pure genius, I say!), but I don't really mind because the second half of BL is just the drawn-out weigh-in and vote-off.
5. Is anyone else impatiently awaiting the next episode of Christian Siriano: Having a Moment? Me too.

Wow. I watch way too much TV.

Shout out: Courtney Rae, this video is the reason why you should watch Glee. Enjoy.

Just one of those days

2010-04-20T15:02:00.000-07:00

Ever had one of those days that leaves you feeling out of breath and empty?
Like a limp noodle?
Like a flat tire?
Like a fish out of water?
Like an overworked and underpaid figment of something much larger than you will ever be?

Today was one of those days.

I'm ready for tomorrow, except that I'm not, because tomorrow is most likely to be just as bad as today if not worse.

I'm only ready for tomorrow because it will mean that Thursday is just a sleep away.
And, I love Thursdays.

I am feeling much better now that I am home and in my pjs and Hubs (only 7 days post-tonsillectomy) is cooking me my pesto noodles.

The fact that Glee comes on in 2 hours, 46 minutes and 59, 58, 57, 56... seconds and that that episode is themed MADONNA makes me want to cry in relief. Thank you, Fox. Thank you for your ingenious invention of the best show on earth.

It is really sad that after the most frustrating day of my life ended, I wanted to redeem it with retail therapy. Somehow, Hubs informing me of all of the bills that came out today was the cold shower that I needed not to go do some plastic damage. Target you are safe for one more day.

Why couldn't I be one of those people who MUST run out my frustrations and feelings? I would be so skinny if that were the case. Darn my emotional outlet and its lack of calorie burning.

So, as Hubs offers me (yet again) a shot of codeine (which I should totally take with a chaser of codeine), which I will refrain from, I am now going to go and eat my yummy pesto noodles and hope that you all had much brighter and happier days than me.

Monday Night Thoughts

2010-04-19T19:30:00.000-07:00

1. Coffee icecream is better than the best. Why do they even make anything other than coffee-flavored ice cream? Does anyone even buy those other, less-awesome flavors?

2. I've lost 2 pounds since Hubs' tonsillectomy. I guess the pureed food and tons of soft veggies have made a pretty big impact on my diet. No complaints here. Too bad, the healthy pureed food allows me to justify my late-night cravings for Cheez-Its (sooo bad for you!) and icecream!

3. There is a tub of Earth Fare pesto in my fridge and it is seriously calling my name. Can't wait for dinner tomorrow!

4. Funny how 1-3 are all about food. I am obsessed. Let's move on to something else. Like, the Panther and her affinity for the jingling of the cutlery drawer paired with the opening and closing of the refrigerator. Apparently, that means suppa-time to her kitty ears, which induces meows and leg-rubbing and her stalking me around the kitchen yowling. Wow, food again. Mooving on.

5. Hulu is awesome. I hope that they get the full Season 1 of Kell on Earth. I missed the final episode. Gasp! So far, Hubs and I have enjoyed Parenthood and Top Chef Masters. And I have enjoyed Project Runway and 9 By Design and RHNY. I hope that when I die, I go to a Bravo! heaven.

6. Pandora pisses me off sometimes. When I say that I don't like a song, I don't want to hear ANYMORE songs that sound like it!

7. Earlier today, Hubs asked if I wanted to take some of his liquid codiene with him. And then, I think he giggled. AND, I JUST THINK ITS HILARIOUS THAT HUBS WANTED ME TO DO DRUGS WITH HIM.

8. Hubs and I now have $95 in our tv fund. Wooo hoooo! Only need about $400 more. And the rule is that only extra-curricular money can go towards it--like babysitting and housesitting and any kind of sitting. (Call me, people. I will keep your kids. But, not for free.)

9. Hubs and I decided that our first dog will be an Italian Greyhound. They are the perfect size with the perfect amount of energy. And the little gray-spotted ones are a-dor-a-ble.

10. I couldn't sleep last night because my mind was racing with all of the designs I want to implement in our sweet apartment in the Wild State. I have decided that the wall in the living room across from the gigantic windows will be painted a soft orange/burnt sienna/salmon color. I want the couches (2 of them, because we are cool like that) to have white slipcovers (which I will probably talk myself out of with a black cat and all, so they might end up navy blue). There will be a huge picture of Hubs and I from the wedding (no matte in a shiny white frame) on the orange/burnt sienna,salmon colored wall. On the wall adjacent to the orange wall will be two identical bookshelves stained dark brown or painted a dark color (or maybe even the orange color!) The gigantic windows will have sheer curtains (NO BLINDS! blegh). And, the beautiful oriental rug (inherited from my parents) will grace the floor. Oh yeah, and our sweet flatscreen tv will be on the wall opposite the bookcases.

(this picture by Steven McCabe)

I have big plans for the bedroom, but that can wait for my next spewing.

Good night to all.

Happy 100th Post to Me - The Aftermath

2010-04-16T06:17:00.000-07:00

Today, we celebrate my 100th post. It has been a long journey to this point. Literally.

You see, I had accumulated a very lengthy and detailed list of 100 things about me for your reading pleasure. But Boyfriend Mac took it upon himself to delete all 100 of those things hours before I was set to post the masterpiece. (Between you and me, I think Boyfriend Mac was a little bit jealous that he didn't make the cut.)

So, after an hour of throwing my hands in the air, exclaiming "whhaaaat did I just dooooo," I decided to leave the blog world for a bit to lick my wounds.

And so, wounds duly licked and healed, I am back, blog world, for my 100th post.

This is the other reason it has taken me this long to post:

Please ignore my horrible outfit. HOSPITALS ARE MEATLOCKERS (probably a much truer statement than I would like to admit), which resulted in me wearing my oversized sweater over my shirt dress, making me look pregnant and bloated. Blegh. Keep in mind that it was early, too.

So, yes, Hubs did indeed go under the knife on Tuesday. I was so nervous. We walked into his little pre-op room and I wanted to cry seeing him in a hospital gown. But I courageously fought the tears for the rest of the morning and during his tonsillectomy and turbinate reduction (for better breathing). It also helped to know that every-single-person in that hospital is in love with my Hubs and they were all (literally) concerned about him. I knew that he was in the best hands ever.

An hour and a half later, I could see him again.

Looks good for just having had surgery, right? His mom and I walked into the recovery room, and he asked for the crossword puzzle and actually did quite a few of them! He was a little googlie-eyed and glazed over, but overall, I would never have known that he just had surgery.

I have had a very easy time of nursing him back to health. He really hasn't had that much pain until yesterday and this morning. I haven't gotten much sleep with him taking medicine every one and a half hours, but I wouldn't trade taking care of him for anything.

And, to just make this the best week ever, last night as I stumbled back from the toilet, the Panther decided to take a detour under my right foot, which made me jump to the left and slam my toe into the very sharp corner of the table leg resting there. This made for lots of blood at 3am and a broken toe for me! Oh joy!

Here is an abbreviated list of things that make me happy right now to prepare you for the big 100.

1. Hubs snoring gently beside me, drunk on liquid codine.
2. The large cup of coffee I am about to down.
3. ITS FRIDAY.
4. I am about to go to Target and buy a shirt.
5. The jar of vitamin E moisturizer (its like cold cream) from Rite Aid that I slather over various parts of my body multiple times a day.
6. Its sandal weather, so I don't have to shove my broken toe into a shoe.
7. SPRING!
8. My fast-approaching birthday.
9. My parents coming to visit on Sunday.
10. Pandora.

I've missed you, blog world.

Wednesday Morning Randomosity: Because Last Week Taught Me Naught

2010-04-07T04:28:00.000-07:00

-Monday morning, I stepped out of the front door and into a watercolor, or maybe even a fish bowl. The tall trees finally had their leaves returned in full, green glory, making the sky feel much lower. The wonderful pollen had tinted everything yellow. I love it when the world turns green again.

-My hair is really blond right now. I mean, like really blond--like Playboy-should-get-my-mom's-number-and-make-her-their-#1-stylist-blond.

-The "we" factor of marriage frustrates me.

Case and point: I took ~~our~~ the car into the shop yesterday morning, because it was making some fun-ky noises. I had to stand in line for about 30 minutes before it was my turn to explain to the nice man behind the counter just exactly what I thought was wrong with the car. This meant lots of hand-waving and odd noise-making to mimic exactly the "clunk-clunk-rattle-clunk" of the front left tire and the "wah-wah-waaah" of the back right tire every time we came to a stop. (See!! There's the "we!" I can't escape it!) Not sure how the waving of my hands was going to help, but they were waved. So, I was standing in line with 30 very long minutes to plan detail by detail exactly what I was going to say.

Thought: We brought in the car last weekend--Wait!--Why am I saying "we" when I'm the only one here. That would sound really weird if I said "we."

Rethought: I brought our car in last weekend--Wait!--"Our" car. But, its just me! Why can't it be my car? And, besides, technically, both Hubs and I brought the car in last weekend, but I immediately went and sat with his mom in her car while he went into the shop and gave them the keys and the problem. So, technically, Hubs brought it in. What's wrong with me!?

Re-Rethought: My husband brought our car in last weekend. There, that's much better. Because I mention Hubs, I can say "our" car and not sound like a total freak.

In the end, I have no recollection of what exactly it was that I said. But, isn't it pathetic that the "we" war was raging through my head for the entire 30 minutes that I stood in line? It got me thinking that I will struggle with the "we" war from here on out.

Is it bad that I now think of Hubs and I as a unit and that what happens to me, happens to him and that what I do, we both do?? Is that crazy!? I'm crazy.

-This is for Sandra: Sandy, dump him!!!

-Hubs and I joined my family at the beach this past weekend. While people-watching on the beach, I noticed a very large number of little people, and by little people, I mean those persons from age 11 to 14, walking down the beach with their cell phones open, in hand and texting. Ridiculous! Can you even see the screen in the bright, beach light!? Kids these days....

-Ok, now I have to go get ready for work. Byyyyeee!

old

2010-03-31T03:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I felt very old.

Hubs and I took M* to the park for some springtime fun. Our first stop: the slide.

I sat at the top while Hubs positioned himself for the catch at the bottom. I would send M flying down to Hubs, who would pick him up, brush him off (because Hubs is OCD and is constantly straightening that boy out) and hand him back up to me. This lasted for a while until M insisted on grabbing the side as he slid down which skewed his body and nearly flipped him upside down on his face each time. We decided that meant M was done with the slide.

I had noticed during our sliding soiree that every time Hubs handed M to me, his big, baby eyes were locked on the fascinating tunnel just over my shoulder. I had the brilliant idea to let him crawl all over the jungle jim as I followed on my knees. Make that bad idea...

I barely made it half a foot into the tunnel before pain like I had never felt before began to radiate from my knees. Agonizing pain like 10,000 dull butter knives being forced into my kneecaps stopped me in my tracks. But M? Well, he didn't stop and wait for his favorite aunt; his knees felt just fine. So, I gingerly followed him for the rest of the 2 feet to the tunnel's end, mumbling "oooww, oouu, eeee," the whole way. Thankfully, Hubs was waiting at the end and had M safely in tow by the time I reached the light. When I was finally able to extricate my body from the very small tunnel, I sat back, smoothed down my static hair and massaged my tender joints.

"Whew," I said. "Does it mean that I am old that I can barely crawl 3 feet through a tunnel because of blinding pain shooting through my knees?"

But Hubs said no.

I sat there a second longer allowing the pain to fully subside before M and I slid down the windy slide, and we all made our way to the swings.

As a child, the swings were my absolute favorite part of recess, the park and warm afternoons. My dad would have to beg me off of the swingset in our backyard. It was a magical place kept shady and cool because of the far-reaching limbs of the pecan trees that lived there. I would swing as high as I could or until my dad yelled at me to "SLOOOW DOOWN!" and try to touch the green leaves with the tips of my toes. I pretended that I lived in a tree world, where the leaves were clouds. I also had swinging competitions with myself, where you were awarded points for straight arms, no bounce and a big dismount. (While recollecting on this yesterday with Hubs, he challenged me to a competition, which he lost, because of bent elbows and a very big bounce. He also couldn't keep his feet locked together while pumping. Bad form. I told him all of this, and he proceeded to make fun of me and even made fun of me last night before bed. No more shared stories of youth with you, Hubs. So, I was a weird kid? You married me!)

Not weird though. I like to say that I've always had a fantastic imagination.

Well, yesterday, I decided to relive a bit of my childhood via the swing set. I mean, its a swing. There shouldn't be anything about it to make me feel old like the tunnel. Well, that wasn't entirely the case. Oh, don't worry. I was able to swing. I actually was able to swing for quite a while until I could no longer take the restrictive swing and its death grip on my hips and thigh bones. I mean, ouch. Is there any way to retro-fit a swing for a woman's hips? Because that swing wasn't letting anything give.

So, as you might figure that made me feel old: the fact that I couldn't swing comfortably. And also the fact that I was terrified to jump out of the swing, which at one time was my absolute favorite part. I mean, who doesn't like a good dismount? I wanted to jump. I really did, but I was too afraid of the broken bones that might result from such a risky maneuver. Because I now have old, brittle bones, not tough, pliable bones like I once had.

And last but not least, the real kicker that made me feel old as dirt: the immediate motion sickness that took over my entire being as soon as I set foot on solid ground. I mean I almost lost my Special K after two steps off the swing set.

What a day. Don't worry M, this doesn't mean that Aunt Beeze won't take you to the park anymore. It actually means many more visits to the park, because Aunt Beeze is determined to overcome knee pain and swings adverse to fat-bottomed girls.

Oh, and I tried to do the monkey bars, but that is an entirely different story and I am still recovering from my overall failure to make it 2 rungs to divulge any of it now if ever.

*our nephew, formerly known as MilkMonster, who is now just Monster; M for short

Oh goodness..

2010-03-29T03:59:00.000-07:00

So, I know that I left you all hanging after my last post. I just haven't had the energy to put into words all of the amazing adventures that Hubs and I experienced in the Wild State. Its been over a week since our return and I still feel overwhelmed (and by the way, I only just unpacked my bag last night, much to Hubs' relief). It may have had something to do with the 50+ hour work week that I just finished and the fact that I do 90% of my work on the computer.

I love you, boyfriend Mac, but it is so hard to force myself to sit in front of you once I get home and just want my brain to unwind.

Things are going to continue to be crazy at work with our new huge deadline. And now that I am "official" (ie: payroll, baby), I must devote even more time and brain space to work, especially since I am now the unofficial graphic designer (yeah, that's actually really funny, so feel free to laugh). Blogging will suffer greatly from this, which is why I am here now saying, au revoir. I am not leaving entirely, but posting will most likely occur maybe only once or twice a week.

I think that this will be a good thing. Recently, I have looked back on a few of my posts and have been very disappointed in my uninspired subject matter. Bless all of your hearts for sticking with me.

The honest truth is that I want to blog daily and I daily have a post in mind, but as soon as I sit down to write it, my true nature (otherwise known as LAZINESS) sets in and I don't have the will or the desire to finish. Or, if I do finish it, it is just craahp (said with Scottish "argh" there in the middle).

One of these days, I am going to go back and finish all of the posts that I have begun and yet to complete. But, not any day soon, I am sure.

So, to not leave you entirely hanging, here are a few details:

Hubs and I had a wonderful, whirlwind of a weekend in the Wild State. I met everyone I needed to meet for my future role in the preservation of the Wild State's history and culture. I have some really great and hilarious stories that I would love to tell you all, but Hubs thinks it is best that I wait until I secure a job, since this is a public site.

But, for a recap. We saw lots of cows, drank wine with the bluebloods of Lewisburg and toured the ritzy Greenbrier with the governor-appointed Commissioner of Culture and History, who asked me to be his girlfriend, which I of course agreed to, meaning that I now have a Gay (I've always wanted one!!)!!

Oh yeah, and we found a place to live. Remember this post? Well, guess what? My wish has been granted! While in the Wild State, Hubs and I signed a lease for the most perfect apartment on the second floor of my very first glimpse into Lewisburg (thank you Wikipedia!). It was just meant to be, people, I tell you! I am now more excited than ever to get up there. I already have furniture arrangements, room decor and what-not planned out in my mind's eye. Hubs' input has been minimal and pretty much shot down each time he makes a suggestion. Sorry, baby, but I've got planz.

As soon as I become un-lazy, I am going to take all of the pictures off of my camera and show you the town and our future home. I swear!!

We will see how long that takes.

By the way, I am getting close to my 100th post, which will be a list of 100 things about yours truly.

How excited are you now, while simultaneously feeling frustrated and upset that I am reducing my post load per week? It could be a while before I get to 100..

Also, I am feeling oddly rejuvenated and am lamenting my temporarily lessened post load. I could just go on and on right now. It won't last long, I'm sure. But, if I do get bitten by the blogging bug, I will be sure to not hold back, which will make me look like a total flake.

But that is a risk that I am willing to take.

I just love the Beatles and talent like this.

West Virginia

2010-03-19T05:26:00.000-07:00

Greetings from Wild and Wonderful West Virginia!

This is our second morning in the Wild State and I am wide awake as Hubs attempts to get just a few more minutes of sleep. Apparently, he didn't sleep at all in the hotel's big king bed, while I was literally dead to the world. Poor guy. I hate when I sleep so well and he doesn't.

You see, it started like this.

Wednesday was crazy. A nightmare. A drain.

I had to go to work.
Burn a bunch of DVDs on boyfriend Mac.
Attend a very disappointing meeting that left me frustrated, annoyed and sad.
Run to Target on my lunch break and pick out some sweet treats for the road.
Run home and eat.
Go back to work to sit in front of a computer and copyedit and copyedit and copyedit.
Run to Starbucks for a meeting with my boss and another man, who decided we should sit outside because he was from Ohio and the 55 degree weather was warm to him....
Run back to the office to pack up boyfriend Mac.
Run home.
Clean the house, because Hubs likes to come home to a clean house after vacation, and sometimes, I am just all about pleasing Hubs.
So, I folded our laundry; changed the sheets on the bed; cleaned the bathroom; wiped down all flat surfaces; vacuumed (which I always want to spell with 2 c's and 2 m's) and attended to the Panther.
Then, it was time to run over to MarLar's for Mexican with the family and a chance for Lar to work his magic on boyfriend Mac.
Then, it was off to Kinko's to print off my letter of introduction and letter of recommendation for my Thursday cold-calls.
I decided to try to make up some business cards last minute. So, I did. And printed them out. They looked like CRAP. I nearly cried. Hubs was very annoyed with me. And, I was just exhausted (did I mention that I had been up since 545am and it was 930pm?) and nervous about our trip.
So, we went home.
Packed.
Put all of our stuff in the car.
Got ready for bed.
Slept. Well, actually, I didn't sleep AT ALL. I tossed and turned and thought about what I had to do the next day. I had to walk into places totally unannounced and tell them I wanted a job. Then, I started to think about how unprepared I was. How my resume was still being worked on (by one very sweet lady) and that I didn't have the heart or the nerve to ask her to work faster. Because after all, she was doing me an enormously huge favor.

So, these were the things rolling through my head all night. I was also hyped up from how extremely busy I had been all day. So, when the 5am alarm went off, Hubs and I struggled out of bed to shower and get dressed and pack up the rest of our stuff.

We were officially on the road by 630am after driving all the way to ChikfilA for breakfast just to find out they are not earlybirds.

The car ride was great and pretty uneventful until I asked Hubs if he got his checkbook to which he responded "no." And, I totally freaked out on him demanding to know how we were supposed to put down a deposit on a place to live without a checkbook. When I already knew that we could easily withdraw cash to cover it, but was worn out and scared and trying not to think about what I was about to do, which means I was ready to pick a fight.

After 5 hours and 15 minutes, we pulled up at our hotel. And, things felt much better. It was an absolutely gorgeous day. The sun was warm, much warmer than I had expected. We quickly changed and headed for downtown Lewisburg, a town that I had explored as much as GoogleMaps would allow.

And, it far exceeded my expectations. It is quaint and beautiful and busy! I love the busyness here. It makes such a small town seem just a little bit bigger and much more inviting. There were tons of people on the street and the traffic is insane here. It was a shocking day, but in a good way. It displaced any worries that I had.

We lunched at an adorable cafe, called Stardust. The food was delicious. The atmosphere was relaxed, a little hipster and totally historic with the original storefront still intact.

We literally gulped down lunch as Tammy at the Greenbrier Historical Society had invited us on a tour of Lewisburg and the North House Museum. We quickly ran up the street and joined in on the West Virginia Association of Museums conference, where Tammy greeted us both with big hugs. She and I have been writing emails back and forth since December. She wants so bad for me to work with her at the museum (which she hinted at about 300 times yesterday) and I must say that I'm with her!

We tagged along on the tour for a little over 2 hours before she asked what our plans had been. I told her about my idea to do a few coldcalls to a development corporation and Main Street Program in Ronceverte. Well, she knew the executive director, called him up and Hubs and I were on our way there within 5 minutes.

The meeting went well. They don't really have a budget for another employee, but the director wants all of my information, because he often needs people to do contract work. So, here's hoping some contract work might come my way! He said that if I had known how to conserve tombstones, I could have a job right now. This might mean that I go back to Columbia and learn how to conserve tombstones.....

After that meeting, we ran back to the hotel, fighting the horrible 5 o'clock traffic (who knew that a city of 4,000 people could have such traffic!?) the whole way. We had 10 minutes to freshen up (my hair was a grease pit at this point, although Hubs said that it looked great) and make our way over to the Montwell House that sits on a ridge overlooking Lewisburg. Tammy had invited us to the reception for the WVAM conference.

As soon as I walked through the door, I felt as if I had stepped into a preservation fundraiser in Charleston, South Carolina. These were the bluebloods of Lewisburg. These were the people with the money and the power. To be continued....

New Post.

2010-03-16T19:34:00.000-07:00

I am writing this post on my brand-spanking-new macbook.

It is white. Sleek. Sexy. Beautiful.

I am officially techno-crushing.

Unfortunately, I don't have enough brain space for a very interesting post right now. I am currently running on empty.

There are just too many things that have happened, are about to happen or will be happening for me to take a moment, regroup and put it into cyberspace.

So, here's the deal.

I have a BIG day at work tomorrow--meeting with some pretty important architects to give them information based on my research. Cra-Zy. I don't think that I would have believed this time last year that I would be here now doing what I am doing.

Then, I have to accumulate all of my important documents for the cold-calls that I will be making in West Virginia on Thursday and Friday. This means lots of printing and copying and organizing. (Here's hoping enough brain space opens up before then.)

Then, we have to go to the store and buy all of our road trip snacks.

Then, we have to go to bed early.

Wake up at 4:30am.

Shower.

Load up the car.

Be on the road by 5am. (Ha!)

And finally, enjoy our first real road trip as a married couple.

You see, I was planning this very fun and informative post about my bad decision-making when it comes to buying shoes. I am still planning on it. Suspense...

Next post will be brought to you from Wild and Wonderful West Virginia.

Things that I am excited/happy about this TGIF AM.

2010-03-12T04:29:00.000-08:00

1. Its Friday!! And that equals weekend fun.

2. Hubs and I are getting on the road this afternoon and heading to Florence for a weekend with my parents.

3. The Irish meal (that isn't really Irish at all) that we will eat Saturday night: corned beef, cabbage, red potatoes, Irish sodabread and green beer!

4. MY MACBOOK THAT I BOUGHT YESTERDAY ON A WHIM AND WILL BE HERE ON MONDAY. Knock that one off my list.

5. This Sunday when Hubs is finally going to fix our broken toilet. Have I mentioned that we have been flushing it all week by taking off the back lid and jimmying the flush thingy with kitchen tongs? Fun times.

6. The $60 I have to spend on a pair of heels to replace my favorite pair that mysteriously disappeared a few months ago. I need some for my interviews in WV next week.

7. I can't wait to eat the leftovers from last night. Risotto. Yum.

8. The arrival of my really pretty, hardback and very thick book on America's first architect, Robert Mills, who graduated from my alma mater. Here it is:

What are you excited/happy about this AM? I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.

Drink some green beer! Slainte!

Bloglebrity.

2010-03-10T16:11:00.000-08:00

Yeah, you heard it here. I am now officially a bloglebrity.

Well, at least in my own little world of anonymity.

Check me out here and here and here on Ann's blog.

Yay! I made it onto someone's blog.

This makes me feel really special,

if you couldn't tell that already.

Big day today.

2010-03-10T04:11:00.000-08:00

Today, I am having lunch with a man whose job I covet. He pioneered historic preservation of small town Main streets at a time when new, new, new meant good, better, best--a time when many razed lots were being filled with ugly brick-veneered or tan-stuccoed office buildings that stared vapidly with blank, plate glass openings (could you really call those black holes windows?) onto downtown streets once lined by stately mansions and decorative brick and cast iron storefronts.

His mission: to restore the magic of downtowns.

So, leave your suburban shopping mall behind. They are now a thing of the past and quickly heading for bankruptcy. Trends and most importantly, people, are moving back to the city center. One hundred year old properties are begging for single-occupant, resident owners and a return to the grandeur of city-living.

Step off soapbox.

So, today is a big day. After the rejection of the historical society in WV, I reaccessed my situation and decided that there were 3 different associations up there that needed someone like me. They are development corporations, specializing in Main Street revitalization. I emailed my lunch appointment with inquiries about what it takes to work for one of these corporations, asking what type of person would they want if they were even looking for someone in the first place.

He said that I would be perfect for the job, an ideal candidate.

His only exposure to me and my work has been through Historic Columbia and the walking tours that I have been working on, since he is underwriting a few of them. (Post tomorrow explaining exactly what it is that I do.)

He asked if he could take me out to lunch.

I said, "See you Wednesday at noon."

Wish me luck!

I'm doing the job dance!

2010-03-09T15:45:00.000-08:00

I got a job.

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

Well, actually, I have had the job for the past 7 months at Historic Columbia.

But now, I am actually getting paid for all of my hard work!

Yay! for the magic word,

Payroll!

Save the drama for your mama.

2010-03-09T08:13:00.000-08:00

Good grief. What a crazy day yesterday. I hate drama. It is the epitome of uncool. But, I am just not the kind of person who can ignore, forget and move-on. I am way too proactive and way too self-respecting for that nonsense.

Let's move on to greener pastures.

I wish that I had exciting details from the past week to divulge here, but our life alas is not that exciting. Besides, I have been working way too much to leave room for anything out-of-the-ordinary to occur.

The one-car family situation is trudging along quite nicely. Want to hear about it? Ok!

This morning, Hubs sat straight up in bed with a "Dang it!" that jarred me suddenly from my warm and cozy dreamland. It was 545am and he had overslept. He stumbled out of bed, mumbling something about "Babe, its 545am. You need to get up. We have to go."

I answered "Ok. I'm getting up," in my head. Who knows if I actually said it out loud, but I definitely acknowledged him from some form or other of consciousness.

I heard him in the kitchen and the familiar screech of the coffee grinder. I rolled over onto his side of the bed that is always so warm and so much softer than mine. It is my favorite place to go to in the wee hours of the morning to get a few more minutes of my precious shut-eye. I was back to sleep in no time.

But, when Hubs burst back through the bedroom door, showered and wide-awake, I rolled over quickly and opened my eyes, pretending I had been awake all along, and was dressed and ready to go under the heavy covers.

"Babe," he said. "We have to go, now."

"Alriiiight," I said in my most awake voice that I could then muster. "I'm ready!"

I dizzily searched in the dark for my pjs in the unending pile of clothes on our desk. I have xray fingers and can usually locate exactly what I am looking for in no time. Success!

I donned my light blue, fleece pants with huge navy and aqua polkadots all over them and pulled my long sleeve blue shirt over my head. No bra. That is way too early in the morning to have to worry about that hated contraption. I put on my slippers and walked to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my hair. Again, way too early to brush my teeth, especially when my plans were to come back home and crawl right back into bed. Toothpaste equals the end of sleep for me.

I wandered back into the bedroom to put on my ugg shoes and pull on my heavy, knee-length wool coat, as Hubs hurried past me, frantically finishing his morning routine (have I ever mentioned before how methodical Hubs is? There is rarely a variation in any of his daily activities.). I pulled my greasy hair back into a ponytail, put on my glasses and walked out into the kitchen. I grabbed my bag, stuck in my hand and began the frustrating search for my keys. Hubs was literally walking circles around me, grabbing this and that and opening the door, as I walked step by step by step towards the door (read: zombie-like).

I made it out into the hated morning, still-dark air as Hubs unlocked the car doors with his keyless entry. Thank God for that, as my key search had still yet to locate the darn things. By the time I opened the front door and climbed onto the cold leather seat, I had a fingernail on my cross keychain. I gently slid my finger under the cool metal and pulled my keys to safety. Finally!

I turned the ignition. Flipped on the headlights. Buckled my seatbelt. Turned down the blaring 70s rock that sounded tinny and piercing to my sleepy eardrums so early in the morning. Placed my bag on the floorboard in front of Hubs. Put the car in reverse. Eased onto the gas pedal and watched the rearview mirror with one barely awake eye as the car moved backwards down the driveway and onto the street. That's as methodical as I get.

I backed out of the driveway and a shiver ran down my spine as I remembered the comforting warmth of his side of the bed and the wish to be back there in that cocoon of cotton and down feathers. I think I smiled then in remembrance.

Hubs apologized about the rush. I said, "Its ok."

We didn't talk. Hubs sipped his coffee. I focused very hard on not gunning the gas pedal or slamming on our squeaky brakes. I managed the stop signs, the three red lights that caught us and the slow pokes on their morning drives easily. I actually felt half awake at that point. As I pulled into the hospital driveway, I could see in my mind's eye the huge mass of comforter and blankets and the dark cool room waiting for me at the end of this journey. I pulled up slowly to the out-patient entrance and told Hubs to have a good day. He pecked me on the lips and was off.

I smiled to myself as I rounded the driveway and eased the car down the steep hill and out unto the road. I looked at the clock. 615am.

I had another 2 hours of free time to sleep away. I smiled and accelerated down the street.

Never again.

2010-03-08T14:34:00.000-08:00

I make it a point to never discuss politics outside the comfort of my own home. And, usually, I am very good at keeping to that point. Politics are a sensitive issue on which everyone has an opinion. While I respect this little known fact about politics, it is the reason that I do not discuss it and why I keep my politicking to myself. You see, no one ever did have a friendly discussion about politics.

And, I say that if you can't talk about a thing maturely and without name-calling, then you don't need to talk about it at all.

Well, I made a mistake a few days ago when I commented on a post about feminism and one woman's view of equality of the sexes. You see, I am not a feminist and neither was the author. She made a few great, valid points, and I agreed with her for the most part. I always enjoy her posts and have just recently begun commenting on them, so I decided that I would leave a cute little response about my views of equality.

I said something along the lines of

I believe that man and woman were created equal. You cannot have one without the other. It takes two, baby.

I thought it was quite cheeky and appropriate, so I clicked "comment." Well, something happened and blogger said that it could not post my comment, so I had to try again. It took me back to the top of the comments, and as I was on my way to click "comment," another's comment caught my eye. I do not read other peoples' comments on other peoples' post. Its not that I am not interested or don't care, I just feel that they aren't meant for me and I honestly lack the time and the patience to sit still long enough to read any number of them.

But, unfortunately, a few of these comments caught my eye. I read a few, skipping over some, until I had my fill. I posted my original comment and went along my way. I tried to forget the comments and the blatant "ME!ME!ME!" that had screamed at me from a few certain entries, posted by well-to-do ladies, who surely had never known the feeling of utter despair when any and all options were no better than death itself.

I just couldn't help but think,

Who are we to complain about the unjustness of our world in middle class America? What is a lesser salary to the option of pain and death that many others face on a daily basis?

I confess that I did not really take a worldview of this point of discussion. With the original post's substance of feminism and inequality of the sexes, my mind and opinions were firmly rooted in the soil of this country that we call the land of the free. You see, the term feminism was an American invention from the 20th century.

I thought about these women, complaining loudly in cyberspace about fairness and equal rights and wondered how many of them had actually fought for a single thing in their entire lives. And, I must say, it infuriated me.

And, this is why:

American women have more choices than I think we could ever fully grasp in one lifetime. So, for these women to cry out, asking where was their right to choose. Well, I just couldn't stand it. That is the beauty of democracy. There is always a choice, and chances are that death is never one of them.

So, I commented, focusing on selfish American women (of which I am one; I cannot deny it). I have since deleted my comment. I deleted it for one obvious reason, if any of you, my faithful readers, have come across the comments on my previous post. I am truly sorry if I offended anyone, but I acted without thinking (alas, a fault that has gotten me into trouble more than once) and posted a comment that I had no idea would illicit any response, let alone anger, at all.

You see, I think arguing on a blog is just plain silliness. It is why I commented blindly without directing my comment at any other comment in particular. Apparently, my comment fell right smack dab in the middle of a discussion about oppressed women in other parts of the world and the inequality of it all. And, my comment, my angry flash of brilliance against the egotistical women out there, who whine about how unfair the world is to them (give me a break!), unleashed a fury of comments against my character, assuming my heartlessness and disdain for oppressed women around the world.

Really??

I thought, when I saw the first comment on my innocent post about selling a car and the trials of a one-car-family, quickly followed by the second.

Really??????

You see, I posted my comment on the post and never looked back. I wasn't looking for a response and honestly did not think that someone would waste their time responding to it. I wasn't about to pick a cyber fight with anyone, especially over a blog post. I mean really, how old are we here? So, I was completely unaware of the angry women out there, ready to call me heartless and ignorant.

Totally unaware of them, until they invaded my blog and left outrageous accusations against my character.

And now, I am responding to these comments on a whole, because it is not worth arguing through comments and exposing my readers to the pettiness of political debate about women, whose positions we could never truly understand.

Sure, we can feel for them, cry for them, fight for them and rally for them, but can or could we ever really relate to them?

I chose to leave the comments below my previous post, because I can take it just as well as I can dish it. I did not call these women names or accuse them of anything at all, but they felt the need to respond to me in such a way. Because of these accusations, I responded once with an explanation of my outburst, which you will find in my comments.

But, let's not embarrass ourselves anymore. I will not allow any further comments from these two women on the subject.

And, I do have a heart--a pretty big one actually.

Open the Book of Life to somewhere near the front.

2010-03-04T04:15:00.000-08:00

Read: Hubs and I are now officially a one car family. We sold the dookie brown Toyota Camry that saw me through 3 years of high school, all 4 years of college and 1 marriage yesterday. And when all was completed with the appropriate lines signed and dated and the money clasped firmly in my hand, I was sad, like really, really sad. Even though I constantly complained about that car, cussed it out when it squeaked and daily wished for it to die, I felt a little piece of me drive off with it and its proud and grateful new owner. End of chapter.

Turn the page. Next chapter. Read: For the first time in our marriage (which has only been for 7 months), our bank account looks great, and I feel really good. I feel secure. I don't feel like a leech. I'm not as worried about Lewisburg. We have a nice little cushion and that makes it easier to lie on the couch next to Will and not fret over what I could be doing right then, like working for money for once. End of chapter.

Skip ahead a few pages. Read: Jillian Michaels has been shredding my body, quite literally. I have done the workout video only 7 days, and Hubs can already tell a difference. I can, too! I've never done a workout and seen results after a mere week. It is stimulating and encouraging. I have no desire to quit. I actually look forward to working out. It only takes 20 minutes. And, the results are so worth it. End of scene.

Turn the page. Read: I took Hubs to work this morning, which meant that I had to get out of bed at 5:40am. I couldn't have walked a straight line if I had wanted. I sat on the couch in a sort of trance until Hubs gave the green light that it was time to go. I stumbled out to the car. Turned the ignition. Backed out of the driveway. Roboticly (yeah, that is not a word--yet). The cold steering wheel was firmly grasped in my stiff fingers. Hubs sat quietly in the passenger seat, sipping his coffee. "Babe, go a little faster," he said. I looked at the speedometer. I was doing 15 mph. Skip over to the next page.

Read: I am not a morning person. The End.

A Disappointment.

2010-03-03T04:37:00.000-08:00

Last night, I received an email that I was dreading. I knew that I was taking a big chance--that I was probably getting my hopes up--that this economy is just not a post-grad's friend at this moment. But, I secretly believed that I would never get that email. I thought I had it in the bag.

I guess that I should tell you what I am talking about. I hope that I don't regret spilling the beans. I don't see why I would. So, here goes.

In early December, I was browsing the websites of local institutions in Lewisburg, WV. I came across the Greenbrier Historical Society's website and their director's email address.

I thought, I should send her an email--just to mention some of my experience and give her a heads-up that I will soon be a resident of the town. I should totally let her in on my little obsession with history and the lengths that I am willing to go to preserve it.

So, I sent her (the director) an email. I told her about college and my degrees. I told her what I have been doing for Historic Columbia for the past couple of months. I told her that I was in love with buildings.

I didn't expect a response, honestly. I realize how busy these non-profits can be and that in these hard times, they are usually very understaffed.

But, I thought, Why not?

To my utter shock and amazement, two minutes later, there was a response in my inbox.

The first line of her email, "YOU ARE A GOD SEND!!!"

Success! I thought. I've done it! I'm going to have a job and it will be doing something that I love. I'm a rockstar.

I called Will. I forwarded the email to my parents. I couldn't believe the blessings in this opportunity.

And, like I said, I thought that I had it in the bag.

So, I immediately updated my resume. I asked my boss at HCF to write a recommendation letter. I sent them both to her with a lengthy cover letter. She said that she would have to talk to the Board and see if there was room in the budget for another employee. At the moment, she was the only one. And, she needed help.

And, I wanted to give it.

Like I said, I thought that I had it in the bag.

Well, Saturday night, I decided that I could wait no longer to hear a response. I emailed her and asked if the Board had had a chance to review my resume and discuss the possibility of another employee.

They had, she said. And, unfortunately, the economy had finally caught up with them and there would not be a position available this year.

Crushed.

Back to square one.

Where to begin?

What am I going to do?

I have to do something.

Will will be in school. I will have to feed us. I will have to keep us warm.

What else could there be in that tiny valley town that I could do?

I guess that I could work at the Greenbrier Resort. There are plenty of server, front desk and bar tending positions. But, I don't want to do any of those things.

I want to do what I love. I want to be an asset. I want to be involved. I want to continue in my education and gain even more experience in the field that I have made my life's mission.

So, back to square one.

But, first of all, I have to explain how incredibly awesome the director has been. She has offered so much advice. She has kept in touch with me throughout this whole process. She will be giving Will and I a tour of Lewisburg. I honestly cannot wait to meet her and spend time with her when we visit. I hope that whatever job I do secure will allow me the opportunity to help out at the society in any way that I can.

I am crushed, but I am not bitter.

I have grown accustomed to the ravages of the economy. Don't forget that I basically work for free at HCF. I wish that I could work for free in Lewisburg, but I will be the sole income then and it just isn't possible.

So, what to do now?

Well, the rejection has lit a fire under me.

Last night, I updated my resume and plan to have it completed by the end of the week, so that I can send it and my boss's letter to any and every business in Lewisburg, who might even remotely need my expertise (which isn't much). I need to be doing something to expand my horizons.

And, I just don't see waiting tables as that expander.

Send prayers and positive thoughts my way.

I'm going for the gold.

Happening now.

2010-02-28T18:34:00.000-08:00

The past two weeks have been one crazy and intense whirlwind.

So, it all started last weekend, when I worked two days straight at Historic Columbia, giving tours for the very first time, and we were so busy that I didn't sit down once, which meant 9pm nights for me on Friday, Saturday and Sunday (lame!) and made for a horrible Monday, when I did my first workout with Jillian Michaels, dubbed The 30 Day Shred; needless to say, it shredded me, and I barely recovered, drug my 45 lb. feet around all day, toured the Fall Line exhibit at the Museum with all of the sweet and energetic Columbia docents, after which I came home to Hubs, who I made baked spaghetti for, because he loves it; and then, the Winter Olympics have made for very late nights for Hubs and I, because although we are not accustomed to watching televised sports, we LOVE the Olympics and were unable to tear our eyes away from the fantastic athletic feats of our Olympians until 1130pm some nights, which means that Hubs has been taking even more cat naps on the couch than ever before, and I have (as usual) been vacuuming and cooking up a storm; risotto, homemade pizza, slow-cooked ribs and rosemary yeast rolls in an iron skillet have been scenting the cottage up quite nicely. Not to mention that Will and I celebrated one of his coworker's birthdays at Wild Wings Friday night after a full week of working, cleaning and shredding, which meant that one cocktail quickly led to four with a few split birthday shots somewhere in between, way too much foolish dancing to horrible 90s songs (I mean, really, who does "HEEEEEEEEY, HOOOOOOOOOO" anymore? Who?!) while I stared down the DJ in the hopes that he could read my mind or at least hear the screams in my head for "BEYONCE. Hello! Play Beyonce or the Black Eyed Peas. I mean honestly!" But, as usual I was the youngest one there and the only one who didn't want to do the Tootsie Roll (yeah, it was one of those dance parties thanks to Mr. DJ) except of course for when he put on "Jump On It," which I promptly responded to by screaming, jumping up and down and hopping out to the dance floor to do my rendition of the Fresh Prince of Belair's "Dance Contest" episode, but apparently I was the only one there who ever watched the show and knew the reference, so when I looked up expecting to see everyone in sync with me, I was completely disappointed to see that I was utterly alone on the dance floor and was at that moment the entertainment, but that didn't stop me, I finished the dance proudly and then sauntered off the floor to chew on ice cubes because it was an inferno in there! That night ended with a wobbly trip to Wendy's and a small fry and chicken nugget later, I was asleep on the couch with Hubs by midnight; we woke up blearily at 1245am, me with an aching jaw from leaning against Hub's shoulder and with Hubs hungry for some cereal. Saturday was a tour day, but luckily I only had to give two tours which allowed the apocalyptic war that was raging within my female organs to calm down before I had to spend the rest of the night sitting upstairs at Seibels House (working as rental assistant) as a drunken wedding reception thumped beneath me. Thankfully, that ended early enough that Hubs and I were in bed by 1230, which made Sunday a lazy morning of pancakes and coffee and SHOPPING, as a quick trip to Dollar Tree landed me the proud new owner of prep bowls for cooking; TJMAXX afforded me a new soy candle that smells like lemons and a white trivet in the shape of an owl (a-dor-a-ble); Target allowed Hubs and I to make our very first appliance purchase, which was a microwave to replace the ugly white one that took 20 minutes the other morning to heat my coffee from room temperature to lukewarm, and also a new lampshade to replace the paper lantern one that the Panther decided to have for supper one day. And now, after a delicious dinner of Greek pork chops, mashed potatoes, mushroom, onion and red pepper stir fry and butter beans and two loads of laundry and sweeping the floor and cleaning the bathroom, I am ready to curl up on the couch and imagine what life will be like in West Virginia, because I hope it will be at the pace of molasses.

Whhheeewwww... glad I got all of that out, and all in one breath, too.

Chivalry is not dead.

2010-02-23T09:52:00.000-08:00

So, the most romantic thing happened the other day as I was driving down the road. Strange setting, right? It gets better. At least, I think it gets better. You will have to wait and see.

So, I was driving down the road, when a moron (which is the name that I call any- and everyone that pisses me off, annoys me or that I just don't like) pulls out right in front of me. Like blatantly in front of me. Like if I hadn't swerved to the right and slammed on the brakes, I would have T-boned them like the best of them blatantly. All was well and my reactions were quick, but they weren't quick enough to send my fist slamming down on the horn complete with a few choice words, silent to their moron ears, and a friendly hand signal.

But, not to fear! As soon as their bumper had cleared from my path and I had straightened up the car and was no longer off-roading it, I heard a long and loud "BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!" I checked my rearview mirror wondering who my knight in beeping armor might be and saw Hubs two cars behind.

"Of course," I thought. "He would defend my right-away honor with an angry toot of his horn."

I couldn't help but relish the warm, fuzzy feeling that this defense of love left in the pit of my stomach. I grinned despite myself, as I watched through the rearview mirror with tender eyes the Escape's (Hubs' car) progress down the road closer to me.

I picked up my phone and nervously with butterflies in my stomach pushed "W" that is Hubs' speed dial button.

"Hi baby," he said sweetly.

I giggled.

"Did you just beep the horn at that moron?"

"Yeah!" he said. "Of course I did. He just pulled out in front of my wife!"

"Awww," I cooed into the phone. "That was the most romantic thing ever, baby! I love you."

Hubs laughed at me.

"You're ridiculous," he said, a bit shyly if you ask me.

Saturday =(ed) Craziness

2010-02-21T07:02:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the MilkMonster's first birthday--pirate-themed, aarrgg. Did his only Aunt Beez make it to his very first birthday party? Nope. In some strange twist of fate that I don't remember signing up for, I had to work at HCF giving tours for the very first time. I did pretty well, but I missed the cake! The best part of every first birthday party! So sad. (Pictures to come.)

I made it to the tail end of MM's party at which point he was having way too much fun playing in the pirate ship of cardboard made by his momma and daddy and wanted nothing to do with me. Its ok though. I can handle it.

So, after a Mexican meal with some great people, Will and I went to the red box in Publix and rented one of the only movies that wasn't out of stock.

We got Up.

Its a Pixar film, so thinking along the lines of Toy Story and Finding Nemo, I thought that it would be light, funny and entertaining.

WRONG!

Within the first ten minutes of the movie, I had the biggest elephant tears of my life rolling down my cheeks and puddling on my shirt front. I tried to sit there as quietly and still as possible, hoping that Will wouldn't notice, but the sheer volume of tears left me saturated and just wet. I finally had to ask him for some tissues.

This is what made me cry: (I dare you not to.)

So, once that scene was over, I figured that the movie would be funny and entertaining and most importantly, NOT SAD from that point on.

WRONG!

This part might possibly be the worst. EVER.

The point is that by the end of the movie, I was completely heart broken and scarred for life.

Thanks, Pixar.

But, the funny parts were hilarious, yet not funny enough to make me forget all of the sad parts.

So, there you have it. I am a total wimp. And loser. And completely ridiculous.

I even teared up again reviewing these clips for the post.

PATHETIC.

Obsessed

2010-02-17T15:39:00.000-08:00

I was out to lunch with a coworker, indulging in a turkey wrap swathed in a toasty warm and freshly-made pita, when she innocently mentioned my ALL-TIME favorite show OF ALL TIME offhandedly as we discussed our tube-time vices.

Glee

She said, "Glee. I heard that was a pretty good show."

Glee

"Pretty good?" I nearly screamed, but couldn't thanks to the deliciously soft and yummy pita wad in my mouth. I finally situated my wrap into my left cheek and safely away from my throat, allowing enough room to say, "Its just the best thing that ever happened to TV, if you ask me."

Stream of consciousness as I chewed and swallowed my bite of wrap:

I mean it is the greatest thing ever. It has singlehandedly changed everything that we ever thought was great about TV. Its hilarious, entertaining, stereotypical, poignant, politically incorrect, joyous, heartbreaking and intoxicating. It left me singing, renewed my waning obsession with show tunes and gave me hope for TV future. It made me a better person.

What would my Wednesday nights last fall have been like without Glee?

What on earth did we do before Glee?

(cue dramatic gasp and grasping at the chest complete with heaving breaths)

How did I exist before Glee without Glee, having never known Glee?

(sudden piercing internal scream snaps me back to reality)

"I am seriously obsessed with that show," I said low and quickly and conspiratorily, checking over my shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping on one of TV's and life's greatest secrets.

Glee

"You should totally watch it. It starts again this April on Tuesdays," I said.

"Mark your calendar and planner and put a sticky note somewhere. Just don't forget, alright?" (Just kidding--I didn't really say that... out loud; I didn't hold my butter knife to her throat and threaten within an inch of her life either. Seriously, that was a joke.)

Also, Will adores the show almost as much as me, which has increased my own admiration by the millions.

Aahh...

So, anyways, now that you all think I am crazy, I will share with you my tied-for-first place clips from Glee, because I LOOOOOOOOVE it when people post music videos. Seriously, I do. Thanks to Ann Mak's recent post, I have rediscovered my love for Jay Z. Thanks, Ann!

This is by far the best performance those talented cast and crew members put together for our viewing pleasure:

And, like Jay Z, Beyonce, you are amazing. I bow at your feet. I am also extremely jealous that I don't know this dance. Enjoy:

What are your tube-time vices?

Dun-dah-Dun

2010-02-15T07:36:00.000-08:00

SNOW DAY 2010

How cute does the cottage look in snow?

How cute does Hubs look covered in snow?

We got in a little fight.

We got a whopping 6.5 inches! It was incredible. Will and I loved having a little preview of West Virginia. I can honestly say that I am very excited about the move to the mountains. That first winter is going to be unforgettable and so much fun. I can't wait to go sledding and skiing whenever we want to! Oh yeah, and I learned how to drive in snow. And, it wasn't hard. At all.

Now for the day of lurve.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 2010!

It all began on Saturday morning. We decided to celebrate our Valentine's Day with a special, homemade dinner on Saturday night. For many reasons (which you have all heard me complain about over and over again), we decided to keep V-Day low key and to enjoy it from the comfort of the cottage.

Saturday morning was a big day of nothingness. It was fabulous. We laid around and looked at the snow out the windows, ventured out for a little snow fight and then decided to go on a hunt for some bargains to no avail, unfortunately.

Then, it was time for the meal time preparations.

The Menu:

Starter:

Sauteed brussell sprouts with olive oil and parmesan cheese

Entree:

Red pepper and goat cheese risotto, baked chicken thighs in a garlic aioli with sage and lemon and blanched and sauteed asparagus

Dessert:

Homemade dark chocolate truffles rolled in cocoa powder

The preparation:

The final product:

It was--and, I'm not just saying this because I was Head Chef--the best meal that I have ever eaten.

Ever.

**ALSO** Roll dance clip from 500 Days of Summer as I successfully produced from somewhere in the deepest depths of me the creamiest and most delicious, knock-your-thick-wool-socks-off RISOTTO!

It was also a great Valentine's Day for Hubs and me. It was so relaxing. We hardly left the couch Sunday and didn't feel guilty about it at all. We both figure that while we have the time to lay around with each other and do nothing, we are going to take advantage of it and do just that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Do these photo collages work?? So much cleaner and easier than uploading photo after photo.
Let me know what you think!

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

2010-02-14T18:21:00.000-08:00

See what Hubs and I were doing last Valentine's Day here.

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Shopping trip yesterday was miserably unsuccessful.

In store for tomorrow:

SNOW DAY

And:

VALENTINE'S DAY 2010

I would tell you all about these two things right now complete with pictures, but I've been laying on the couch all day with Hubs, so why stop now?

I hope Cupid was wonderful to you all!

There are 6.5 inches of snow on the ground, and

2010-02-13T08:56:00.000-08:00

we're going antiquing!

To be posted later today:

-pictures of snow
-more pictures of more snow
-pictures of Hubs in the snow
-pictures of yours truly in the snow
-no pictures of the Panther in the snow, but I will tell you how we almost lost her in it.

What I plan on finding a great deal on during this afternoon of furniture hunting:

-A really gorgeous headboard kind of like this one would give us sweet dreams every night.

-A wonderfully old and worse-for-wear chair that we can get for a steal and show some upholstering lurve to--a chair like this one perhaps.

-We need a fixer-upper lamp shade to be creative with to adorn our old lamp, since the Panther decided to eat the paper lantern shade that we had originally.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And, lastly, I will leave you with one of our favorite tunes from one of our favorite artists. We listened to this one this morning after our snow fight (that I won!).

Thursday.

2010-02-11T07:38:00.000-08:00

I love Thursdays. They are so full of promise--the promise for a break from all those things expected of you. It means that you just have 24 hours left to think non-stop about the weekend, plan your weekend, envision the delights in store for the weekend. And, that is a great feeling, because, let's face it, 24 hours of a Thursday is exponentially better than 24 hours of a Monday or a Tuesday or a Wednesday.

I even like the look of Thursday. Look at it:

THURSDAY

Looking good, Thursday.

Thursday conjures up fantastic images of:

$3 cosmos - You know that Thursday is the best because it is the last day of the week with Happy Hour specials and it is so close to the weekend that there is absolutely no guilt in partaking in a little celebratory (for the weekend, of course) libation.

$1 movies - From the movie box inside Publix. Note: Hubs and I are very poor. $1 movies are our friend and sole source of enjoyment and weekend partaying. Lame? Most definitely. Ashamed? Would I have just listed it if I was?

SLEEP - I always get enough sleep, but I sure do love to get a lot more of it on weekends when Hubs can enjoy it with me. No 4:30am mornings on Saturdays and Sundays!

PBS - Will and I love some PBS on the weekends. They have some great cooking shows. And, This Old House is fabulous. Will takes notes for future work on our future old home. I relish the old hardwoods and support my cause of historic preservation. Old buildings rock. Save one!

bargains - Thursday means 1 or 2 days until Will and I have the opportunity to bargain hunt for items that will allow me to release my creativity.

So, basically, here's to you, Thursday. May you always be thirsty, thrifty and thoughtfully close to the weekend!

The new box.

2010-02-10T09:15:00.000-08:00

Maybe, you have noticed the new box to the right. The one that replaced the fish.

Maybe not?

Great! Don't look!

Confession: That little box makes me feel kind of like a sell-out.

This is why it is there:

So, I was sitting at the computer last night--on the Big Daddy computer, Will's desktop, that we eventually broke down and moved out to the living room. Why, you might ask? Well, because my laptop has officially died. Its ninth life has come and gone. So, rather than having to sit in our cold, lonely and dark cave of a bedroom to access the computer, we decided to move it out into the only slightly warmer, much brighter and friendlier living room/dining room/kitchen. I digress.

So, I was sitting at the computer last night, feeling just a little sorry for myself (yet again), pondering my lack of income (as usual) and mourning the loss of freedom provided by my laptop (ie: sitting comfortably on the couch by Hubs with computer in lap), and I started to think.

I started to think about different ways that I could make money. Legal, morally acceptable ways to make money (because movies like Blow and Oceans 11 appeal far too much to my fantasy, leading me to believe that a life of crime would be a piece of cake and a great and fast and seemingly easy way of cash attainment through the inevitable drug deal and casino robbery: PIECE O' CAKE, I say), when I remembered an article that I read in Mare's Glamour magazine about a blogger who makes $30,000 a year off of advertisements on her blog.

WHAT?!?!

REALLY!??!

Woooooww.......

And, then I thought,

I could do that--

rather, I could try to do that.

Would it work?

How much could I possibly make?

Am I being totally and completely narcissistic and self-centered to think that there is enough traffic on my blog to produce any sort of income? (Probably.)

And, then I thought,

even if there was enough traffic on my blog (which is HIGHLY LAUGHABLE by the way, considering I have a mere 9 followers, who I love dearly with all of my heart; you know my soul), why on earth would anyone actually interact with the ad?

And, then I thought,

do I even interact with ads?

No.

Will I ever?

Probably not.

But, then I thought,

why not?

Would it be in the way?

No.

Would it be a distraction?

Maybe, but this day and age, we are bombarded with advertisements every second of every day in all places, and yet we find a way to make it through the day, to cope with our material world (of which I am totally a material girl).

And, then I thought,

why shouldn't I at least try to make a little money? Is it such a bad thing?

I mean, blogging isn't my job. Its a hobby that I enjoy. And, people get paid for hobbies all the time. And, I am going to blog no matter if there is an ad there or not or whether I am being paid for it or not,

so why not try it out?

Especially since I am technically unemployed at the moment.

Ouch, first time actually typing it out loud.

And, then I thought (because I was quite the thinker last night),

If I make money, great. If I don't, I don't.

So, I signed up for Google AdSense, and now, I have an ad.

I hope you all (all 9 of you) understand and don't judge me.

I have already decided that any money I do make off the ad will go into a NEW LAPTOP FUND.

That way, I won't be using Hubs' hard earned cash for my selfish means, which was really, honestly and truly the main motivation for the ad. I feel so incredibly guilty spending the money that Will makes on things for myself.

And, that is the truth.

I wonder

2010-02-09T08:07:00.000-08:00

why it is that as soon as I get the MilkMonster* down for his nap, and have settled myself comfortably on the couch, and have just started the DVRed episode of Project Runway, and just filled myself a cold glass of water and gulped down about half of it that I all of a sudden without warning and without fail have to pee so excruciatingly bad.

I mean like I-better-not-turn-my-head-too-fast-or-I-might-leak-or-explode-bad.

Come to think of it, it could have something to do with the huge cup of coffee I just consumed and the half glass of water that I couldn't gulp down fast enough.

Lucky for me, the bathroom is of course conveniently located down the creaky hallway, past MM's bedroom, with the door closed and the air isn't on to drown out my cautious and soft footfalls. And, I just know that MM is subconsciously waiting for any distraction to wake him up from his deep slumber. Because, let me tell you one thing, that kid does not like to sleep. And then, once I have trekked the creaky hallway and made it safely to the bathroom's threshold and silently opened the door and closed it behind me with no sound of stirrings or shrieks of

"I'M AWAKE AUNT BEEZEY!! SLEEP IS NO MATCH FOR ME!"

coming from MM's room, I finally make it to the wonderful, beautiful, oh how I love thee, toilet!

Unfortunately that full-of-relief, you are my savior toilet now possesses a baby-proofed contraption, or as I affectionately call it, the babysitter booby trap. This thing takes 3 hands to successfully open without the faintest clicks and ticks, and unfortunately I only have 2.

But, after I do get it open, all the while holding my breath and praying that the air would turn on and muffle my toilet attempts, I am able to sit down and RELIEF. Nothing really matters much at that point.

And, afterwards, 20 pounds lighter and loads happier, I wash my hands under a trickle of water that takes 10 times as long to get the soap off, but MM is way too close for a full blast hand-washing.

And, I don't flush. No sirree. After all of those precautions, you better believe that lid stays up and that toilet unflushed until MM wakes up.

I wonder how I can train my bladder to contain the gallons of liquid within until a more suitable time to dispose of it. Sometimes, being a woman is so inconvenient. Hubs can go all day without visiting the loo, but me. I don't think so one bit at all, no way. Don't they medicate for that sort of thing?

*Milk Monster is my nephew Griffin. This kid can guzzle some milk. 6 bottles a day and he will be 1 in 2 weeks. Just this morning, upon the final suck of his 6 oz bottle and my immediate removal of the nipple from his starving lips, he grunted, sat straight up and demanded in all his baby glory that he would have some more. Pronto. Thus the new name from here on out.

If my life were a movie scene...

2010-02-08T05:03:00.000-08:00

it would be this scene from 500 Days of Summer, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt would be Cameron Diaz (as me, because this is my movie and I get to choose!) and I would be dancing because I just got a job, or won a bunch of money or successfully cooked risotto.

House Wares and Wants

2010-02-07T09:47:00.000-08:00

There are many things in life that I cannot wait to do. Decorating my very own house is one of them.

Let's explore my design philosophy through a display of all things home-related that Google proudly displayed at just one click of the "search" button.

Let's begin with reality.

I purchased this table yesterday on a shopping trip with TuTu, Mare and G (from here on known as "Milk Monster"). I originally fell in love with this table over Christmas, when I literally stumbled upon it at Pier1, where it cost a whopping $50. I got it for $24.99. I couldn't be happier about it and the hopes that we will one day very soon have a place big enough that it can be seen and not have to be stuck between the couch and the wall.

Now, for all those hopes and dreams:

You chair would look fabulous next to my knit upholstered couch, resting atop our 25+ year old Oriental rug (inherited from Mom and Dad). When will you come home to me?

Take your time though. Our couch barely fits in our apartment now.

Hello, lover otherwise known as a porcelain farmhouse sink and the butter to my bread. One day, we shall be together for the rest of our lives.

You, my friend, are fabulous. You would look good just about anywhere.

There are no words to describe my complete infatuation with this kitchen. Ssshhhh.... No talkie.

You would look wonderful at the end of my bed, in like a year, when there is more than a foot of space there. Till then.

Now, that is how you treat a window, because we all know how much of a good time those windows can have.

**Warning** This is not a style blog. This is just a post about home style and decor within the confines of a blog about the marriage of two crazy kids, who are set to endure the freezing temperatures and weak cell phone signal of the Allegheny mountains in WV. Medical School to commence in 180 days and counting down. 179, 178, 177, 176....

******ALSO TO COME: Hear how my Hunter Boots dream came true! And how I am now completely and utterly proud to be painted RED.

What I Want

2010-02-06T07:57:00.000-08:00

Since I probably won't be able to buy or achieve many of the things that I want until 2015, when Will and i will finally have some excess cash (maybe?) and some free time (perhaps?), I am going to blog about them.

And then, I will drool.

Here is what I want:

A cameo ring. Something that I have ALWAYS wanted, but have yet to afford.

A collared necklace, because its totally chic, but funky. I want one. Bad. Come to think of it, I could probably make it quite easily. I might just have to try.

In my dreams, I look just like this.

I need some chunky heels. These would do just fine.

I love, love, love, love these boots. They're Hunters. West Virginia called and said that they were a must.

Our couch is in desperate need of a new slipcover. How awesome would a knit slipcover be??? So warm and cozy and comfy, especially on freezing cold and snowy WV nights.

This picture makes me short of breath. Want. Need. Gotta have. Every head chef needs Le Creuset cookware.

I love my Longchamp backpack. It epitomizes shoulder freedom. After 2.5 years, mine is looking a little rough. I think its time for a replacement.

Umm.... yes, please? My laptop is on its ninth life as we speak. It might not make it through the night. I would love a laptop that didn't weigh 8 lbs that I could take with me anywhere. A Macbook would be perfection.

I'm so sick of my TJMAXX specials. I need some serious sunglasses. These would do just fine.

I am currently the very proud owner of two shirt dresses. I could always use another. You can never have to many. They are way too versatile.

Annoyed

2010-02-05T04:45:00.000-08:00

I am really, really annoyed this morning.

1) I woke up circa-4:30am with a splitting, throbbing head ache. Hot spots: under my eyes, above my eye, over my ears, SINUSES. No matter how I positioned my head on the pillow, my head just ached and ached. The kicker: I was too exhausted to get up and do anything about it. And, Hubs? Well, he felt terrible all night and even worse this morning. So, I didn't have the heart to ask for some medi, some sweet Hubs-kisses and head rub. I suffered in bed, tossing and turning until I finally could take it no longer and got up at 6:50am.

2) The Panther. I love you, kitty, but you get under my feet. And, as mommy came stumbling out of her bedroom this morning, you tripped her up 3 times! Then, you gnawed on the tape that holds up our door insulation. You know, the tape that you always eat and then throw up. And then, you situated yourself directly under the step taken by my right foot as I stepped away from the coffee maker with hot, hot coffee in hand. You screeched. I burned myself. I love you, Panther, but you annoyed me this morning.

3) I couldn't wait to get up and finish watching Julie&Julia this morning. I started it last night with Hubs, who had to go to bed without finishing it. I just had to go with him. However, when I went to finish it this morning, the batteries that we use with both remotes (you know, loading and unloading them for whichever remote we need then) would not work in the TV remote, and alas, I could not turn the TV to Input 1. Uggghhh. So much for that.

4) Its raining. Well, big surprise. I hate Columbia. When it rains.

5) Its cold. Miserably cold. I think that I will actually be able to handle WV. At least, it will be cold with snow that you can brush off of you without getting too wet. But rain and cold. I just can't take it anymore!

Now, the things that make me happy in the hopes that this day will not be a complete disaster.

1) Hubs. He rocks my world.

2) The thick wool socks that my mom gave me for Christmas.

3) The space heater.

4) Aunt Gerry's salty sourdough bread that is the BEST breakfast ever.

5) Thick lotion.

Here's to a very annoyed morning turning into a GREAT day!

What's your brand?

2010-02-04T05:19:00.000-08:00

On the Today Show this morning, they had a marketing executive talking about the importance of branding yourself. He pointed out Donald Trump, who puts his name on everything that he owns. Then, he mentioned Martha Stewart and her perfect empire of sheets, towels, crafts and cooking demos.

And, then he discussed his own brand, which was marked by a business card with a dog-eared corner, inspired by the fans, who brought dog-eared copies of his books for his autograph. He even dog-ears his letterheads.

Crazy, but unique. I would remember it.

It got me thinking about my brand.

I am in the perfect position to begin creating my brand and marketing it. I am not technically an employee of Historic Columbia Foundation. I function there as an intern at times, and then as a contract researcher, where I essentially hire myself out to patrons, who come to them for research.

But, what would my brand be?

As all of my friends know, I am slightly obsessed with bird decor. (I received at least 4 Christmas presents pertaining to birds.) But, a symbol of a bird has really nothing to do with historic preservation and research.

My one true love of historic preservation is old buildings. I think then that my brand would have to be an old building or building materials. Maybe, I will begin the creation of my brand tonight. I can utilize Will's photoshop skills and come up with something extraordinary.

I will keep you all posted.

What's your brand?

At home

2010-02-02T16:11:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like a Tuesday night, at-home facial. Presently, I sit perched on the edge of the couch, with the Panther lounging closely to my right and dried yogurt, honey and granola plastered on my face.

Yes, folks, it is beauty time.

I am a bit fanatic about my skin.

I moisturize daily. And, by moisturize, I mean that I slather on two and sometimes three very thick coats of lotion on my face and one pasty layer over the rest of me every morning after my shower.

I use a special skin firming cream around my eyes. Which I apply with my ring fingers. And rub from the outside corners inward. Always. Never the other way, or WRINKLES. Aaah!

Whenever Will, being the generous, sweet, kind, incredibly loving Hubs that he is, gives me a facial rub to alleviate some of the pain from my sinuses, I always gently scold him:

Not around my eyes, babe! You'll give me wrinkles!

Sometimes, when Hubs is feeling cheeky, he will pull the skin on my face in opposing directions in an effort to contort my features. To which I again will gently scold:

Babe! Don't pull my skin! You're going to give me wrinkles! Do you want a wrinkly, old wife?

Whenever Griffin tries to yank my nose off my face or pull my eyes out with his little baby fingers, I always take his hand and, forehead to forehead, ask him in my most convincing baby voice:

Gwiffin, do you want Aunt Beezy to have wrinkles and have Unkie Wiw weave me for somebody younger and hotter and less wrinkly in a few years?

So tonight, after a rejuvenating scrub of sugar crystals in the shower, and a steam bath under a thick towel while poised over a steaming pot of water, and a thick slathering of homemade skin mask, I think that my skin will be ready for a new day.

Will you?

Morning Ramblings

2010-01-28T05:16:00.000-08:00

A lot has been happening lately, and not all of it good.

Yesterday, I was humiliated and offended like I never have been before. I was made to think that it was my fault. That I was completely powerless. That I was just an object.

It is just too bad that I don't believe any of those things. Nice try, though. But, in the end, all that you really succeeded in doing, was pissing me off. Royally. And, there will be repercussions. And, you will soon feel just as humiliated as me.

Just know this:

I am proud to be a woman. And, I am smarter than you. Much smarter than you. You are worthless. And, that's about all of the time I have for you and all of the recognition that you will get from me from now on.

I'm too busy; my life is happening.

Everything is really great and busy in my life right now. I just had a little speed bump yesterday. But, not to worry. That bump was unfortunate, but if I am being totally honest with myself, was kind of expected. Women have a sixth sense. And, yesterday, my sixth sense was affirmed.

Great things are happening for Will and I.

For instance, I made amazing, knock-your-socks-off, perfectly browned, peppered and salted gravy last night. That is always exciting. Because, I love watching that Hubs of mine eat my food.

We are planning our trip up to Lewisburg, Dub-Ya V, where we will meet the Director of the Greenbrier Historical Society, who will be our personal tour guide of the town. Fingers crossed that some day soon, I will be able to tell you the story of how I even know the Director of the Greenbrier Historical Society. Fingers crossed, I say!!

I have another (PAYING) job ready for me to begin at HCF. I get to (try and) nominate my first property to the National Register. Yay for experience!

Will and I attempted to be a single car family this week. That lasted all of about 2 days. Wonderful. So much for being green and having some extra cash. Oh well.

I think that today, I am going to blog my morning with G. I think it will be fun. I know that his Momma will appreciate it.

I love you, all. And, this is for you:

Anarchy for one, please?

2010-01-21T08:56:00.000-08:00

So, I have realized something about myself this week. It kind of hit me like a cold shower in the face, when I realized that the anger that I was feeling right then towards one of my bosses (you see, I'm juggling 5 jobs right now!) was enough to induce me to commit some serious physical harm to him or anyone, really, for that matter.

I have always known that I don't like to be wrong.

But, then again, who does?

And, I fully accept responsibility for believing that my way is the right way all the way and every time. Who can blame a girl for knowing what she wants, how to get it and what to do with it?

What I never realized though before now was how much of an issue I have with authority and how (nearly) impossible I find it to chew let alone swallow my (sometimes deserved, sometimes not) slice of humble pie from the before-mentioned authority.

Granted, my boss was totally in the wrong due to his lack of html command knowledge.

Yes, we are talking about a specific situation here.

See what I mean? I HAVE to have the last word. Period.

And, so I write an email in response to his slightly degrading, slightly ignorant voicemails with one of my famous snarky comments thrown in here and there. Then, I stab the send button with my cursor and a grunt of validation and victory.

Five minutes later though, I am too afraid to open my inbox. Afraid of the response.

Could he fire me for that stab at his intelligence, competence, etc.?

Would he?

Oh, Dear God, has he opened it yet?

Is there an unsend button?

All that excitement and worry for nothing.

His two word reply usually leaves me a combination of baffled, relieved and angry(?).

Lately, I have found myself prefacing statements, complaints, comments, arguments with "Now, I don't have a problem with authority, at all, but it really irritates me when (fill in blank), and then tells me to (fill in blank) when I've already (fill in blank). It was my idea anyways! I'm the brainchild behind this whole thing. But, no appreciation or acknowledgement. UUUGHHHH!"

But, really, I don't have a problem with authority.

I would just rather be the one with it.

It is a position that I could totally get used to.

Period.

A Love Affair Has Begun

2010-01-12T05:14:00.000-08:00

The Panther has a new obsession, object of her affection, lover, etc.:

I call it space heater love. (notice how she has adoringly positioned herself for heater worship)

After Will opened December's electric bill, which was quite the gasper to say the least and made me burst into a fit of tears at work--because we're poor--we borrowed his mother's space heater.

And the Panther was complete, body and soul.

I guess that I can't really blame her. I mean the thermostat is set on 59 degrees. I have actually kind of fallen in love with the space heater just a little bit myself.

This was very apparent when last night, I kept nudging the Panther over because she was blocking the heat, leaving a cold spot on my left arm.

What is going to happen to us in West Virginia?

I just don't know, but hopefully, the space heater will be there to comfort us both.

"I'm waiting on you, Hubs."

2010-01-09T16:03:00.000-08:00

I have realized that I sure do an awful lot of waiting on you, Hubs.

I waited 10 very sluggish months for you to finally realize that I was the girl that you should be dating right then.
And, by right then, I meant the then that was July 1, 2006, after 10 months of you somehow successfully eluding me and my not so subtle hints that I was the one. Hint, HINT.

Smooth move, Hubs. Always, you and your smooth moves.

Your speeches (given through fbook messages) full of lofty metaphors of "bank accounts" and "depositing" our time together, when the other isn't ready to "withdraw," did not discourage me. As I promptly informed you that YOU were NOT a banker. So, lose the lingo, please? Thanks. Just tell it to me straight.

Remember, Hubs, that time I grabbed you round your neck and pecked you on your very smooth cheek? It was on the corner of Calhoun and St. Phillips. I made you walk me almost to the dorm after a pretend visit to the library. You do know that I only went there and pretended to study because of you, right? It was one of my only desperate excuses to be so near to you for such long periods of time.

Well, I think that night and that street corner episode was one of the few times that I didn't wait on you. I laid a smack-a-roo on you and then ran across the street. I didn't even look back.

What would have happened if I had looked back? Or, lingered over your cheek?

I wonder...

Then, I waited (almost) 3 (whole) (long) years for you to ask the BIG ONE. But, I was ok waiting on that one. Well, I still told you on a regular basis that I was SO not interested in dating you for very much longer. Romantic and ever so sweet, right?

I wait on you to make decisions. You know, about what you want for lunch. Or breakfast. Or dinner. Or anything food related for that matter. Sometimes, you drive me nuts, and I just want to throw a fat PB&J on you. But, I know that will probably be the answer to your prayers, so I refrain. I have vowed to not wait on your mealtime decisions anymore!

I wait on you to get home from that dreaded place that you call work. It steals you away from me too much. And, I especially hate waiting for you to leave it. To make your escape and come home, just so I can wait on you to decide what late night snack you are craving.

But, here's the thing, Hubs. And, it is a very important thing.

I would wait forever for you.

A little rant and rave...

2010-01-08T10:04:00.000-08:00

I hate money.

But what I hate even more than that is admitting that

I hate that Will and I have so very little of it.

I hate the way it can change the outlook of your entire day,

when you check your bank account,

and you see the amount,

and you gasp,

and rack your brain trying to figure out where it all went.

I hate that it can make you panic,

gripping at your chest,

worried that you might not be able to pay that bill,

because you must pay that bill to survive

in any kind of comfort.

I hate that it can be such a heavy burden

to not have enough,

to think that you don't have enough,

will never have enough,

when there are so many more important things in life.

I hate when I allow money to effect me.

I hate that it matters so much,

and not so much to me,

but to the rest of the world.

I hate that I am the financial drain of the Jackson household.

I hate that Will has to work his butt off each week,

pulling way too long shifts

and taking weekend call,

when we should be home together,

being young and in love.

I hate that I contribute so little.

The phrase,

"But what you are doing now is the best thing for your future

and being able to get a job then,"

rings so hollow in my ears.

Who knows if I even have a future?

This thing called life could all be over tomorrow

for all I know.

Do I really want to stand in front of the Pearly Gates,

so eager to get inside,

but not before I had to consider how much

better

freer

happier

more fun

vibrant

more creative

lighter

more real

my life would have been had I not been so preoccupied by money

that man-made thing

that never really made anyone happy,

or really solved anyone's problems,

or really mattered that much to a person drawing their last breath.

I hate that I even have to consider all of these things.

I hate that I have to repeat this process every time I check our bank account,

and it is lower than I think it should be.

I hate that I don't trust God enough

to just let it go.

And,

I hate that I don't have the guts to admit it to Him

on my knees

everyday.

Christmas Creativity

2010-01-08T05:32:00.000-08:00

So, for Mare and Lare's Christmas present, I had the idea to make a silhouette of little man, Griffin. For some reason, I did not take a picture of the final product before we gave it to them, so here is a quick picture that I took of it hanging on their wall while G napped yesterday. (Please forgive my poor photography skills and the huge glare in the middle of G's head.)

It was surprisingly easy to do, except for the whole tracing his profile thing. I tried several times during his naps to trace his little-big head, but every time the pencil touched his nose, he squirmed and rubbed it, moved his head and I lost my place.

I finally just took a picture of him during a nap, used my debauched sketches to get the actual size of his head, and had Will trace his profile (because he is just good at things like that).

Will traced his profile. He cut it out. He glued it down. He stenciled G's name and age.

I like to call myself the Creative Director. I mean I have to claim some role in the creation of that gift, right?

It was my idea after all. I picked out the materials, paper, mat, frame, pen and stencil. I approved construction. I looked over Will's shoulder the entire time.

I know that he just loved that part of it.

Next, Will and I have a special treat for one of G's little friends. I can't wait to get started on that one.

-----------------------------------------------

And, after that (and sooner than later) I am going to figure out how to make a fabric rose headband like all of those creative Etsy ladies out in Provo, Utah.

We shall see. Stay tuned.

Winter Wonderland

2010-01-07T07:25:00.000-08:00

So, as much as I hate snow and really anything cold/winter/freezing temperature-related, I am just a little anxious (dare I say excited?) about the possibility of nighttime snowfall this Thursday eve.

I love the look of snow with its calming blanket of bright white over the dull dreariness of winter terrain.

I think that our cottage would look sweet with snow-capped eaves and a heavy dusting on the front lawn of dead leaves.

And for education's sake, it would at least offer me an opportunity to practice driving under those winter-weather conditions that will be Lewisburg, WV in the dead of winter. Oh goodie!

Either way, a hot, hot cup of hot chocolate and Will and the couch and snow falling down all around us sounds really fantastic to me.

Not to mention the prospect of a snow day! Especially since I will be working all weekend, and Will is on call.

This may be the only time that I ever say (type) this, ever.

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow; let it snow; let it snow. (Sung in a booming tenor like the last lines of that song)

Feed My Fish

2010-01-06T16:28:00.000-08:00

Seriously. Just click. That orange stuff is their food. Now, move your mouse around. And, they will follow. Cool, huh?

Well, I thought they were cute.

So, I hate cold weather just as much as you do (probably), and I can't help but think that this is Mother Nature's way of saying, "na-na-na-na-boo-boo!!!!"
I have always said that women are just the worst...

I hoped to enjoy the nice mild winter that SC is known for during my last winter here for a few years. But, no. That is definitely not what I'm getting, and they tell me that snow is on the way?! You have got to be kidding me.

Could this week get any worse?

Record lows.

The death of the Patters and the REEKING of their rotting flesh in the attic. Two down, smells like one more inhabitant is still present though.

Two solid days of splitting sinus headaches.

And, I just went to (SHOOT M E!) Wal-Mart (because I had to). Where I got hit on. Because I am a nice person and pointed out the hummus to the creepy guy (he didn't look creepy, but definitely was creepy), walking around commenting on how he couldn't find the hummus.

Always remember:

Never be nice to people in Wal-Mart.

Ever.

The hospital has kidnapped Will again. Hip replacement.. mip mishplacement.

Our Christmas tree is still up. Still green. And, still smells wonderful. I am so proud.

I've eaten enough peanut butter and nutella in the past week to choke a horse.

I'm ready for summer. Is it June yet?

This headache will be gone in..

..10..

..9...

.8..

7....

Oh, I give up.

Happy New Year!

2010-01-03T18:54:00.000-08:00

Will and I rang in the new year on our couch in our pjs. It was wonderful.

Our night began at Bonefish Grille with a (delicious!) cosmo for me and a bourbon and ginger for Will. Dinner was fun and flirty and romantic. I never get tired of that man. I just can't get enough of him.

Will and I discussed 2010, our hopes and dreams and goals for that pivotal year. So many (BIG) things are going to happen for us in this next year. We made a few resolutions; my favorite of which was to be in love, love, love, love.

And, we are in love (with each other and my hot boots).

I finally worked up the courage (with a little liquid encouragement) to pop the cork of our favorite sparkling wine. I was terrified, but numb at that point, so didn't much care what might happen.

I screamed.

(And, Will fell asleep on the couch. At 11:00. How old are we???)

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

Accomplishments of 2009

2009-12-30T11:34:00.000-08:00

I am currently at work, working very hard actually, scanning a ton of pictures to earn my keep. But, during the scanning, which takes about 3 minutes per picture, I am bored with nothing to occupy my time. So, I have decided to make a list of mine (and some of Will's) accomplishments of 2009.

1. college graduate Thank you very much! My GPA wasn't exactly what I wanted (no thanks to the close proximity of the beach and the constant urge to skip class), but it was higher than a 3.5, so who can complain? I graduated with two BAs in English with a Concentration in Creative Writing and the other in Historic Preservation and Community Planning. HP is my one true love. I can't wait to see where it takes me.

2. married one hunk of a dream man   But, duh, you all already knew that.

3. parental/financial independence   Well, almost. My dad paid my car taxes this past fall, but in the spring, we're footing the bill. Yikes. Nothing is scarier than knowing that you have to make your own money to survive. And, nothing is a bigger reality than facing the fact that money makes the world turn.

4. moved to a new city   I know that Columbia isn't much of a city, but it is very new to me and took (and is still taking) quite a bit of adjustment. Take for instance, the hills that I have yet to trust, being a staunch Pee Dee swamplander, make for interesting driving situations. Also, the fact that this place that I now call home just isn't Charleston has been the hardest bullet to bite. I may never get over that city by the sea and I hope that I never do!

5. went somewhere that required a passport And, it was for my honeymoon, which means that it was with that hunk of a dream man. And, it was also the Domincan Republic, which is just awesome!! Don't drink the water there, though. Trust me.

6. said goodbye to 21 That was a sad day. I still forget that I'm 22.

7. started this here blog   That I have been committed to and have not abandoned. For my procrastinating self this blog has had a pretty good track record with me. I'm quite proud.

8. WILL IS OFFICIALLY A MEDICAL STUDENT I would like to shout that one from the rooftops. I couldn't be prouder of my hunk of a dream man.

Ok, I'm all out of accomplishments. What a short list. We will have to get started on next year's list this Friday. I'm going to make sure it is a good, long list.

Here's looking at you, kid, one year from now..

2009-12-30T06:16:00.000-08:00

So, here are a few pictures sent to me from the Director of the Greenbrier Historical Society in Lewisburg, WV. They capture perfectly the Blizzard of '09, a record-setting snow the likes of which haven't been seen in that town since '95.

She lives 30 minutes outside of the city, where they received a whopping 30 inches!!!

Here are pictures of the downtown:

Downtown received a mere 18 inches. No biggie!!

The Fo-toes (Because I'm impatient)

2009-12-28T06:53:00.001-08:00

The tree looked so happy with all of those presents under it!!!

Will got a vest, bathrobe, pajama pants, a travel mug and handkerchiefs from his wifey.

I got my super hot boots, a feather headband, an awesome necklace, great sweater and fish wellies that haven't come yet from the Hubs.

It was just the best Christmas ever.

And, what did the Panther get for Christmas?
A water bottle to squirt in her general direction when she's being naughty. Ha.

The Sweetest Christmas

2009-12-28T06:09:00.000-08:00

So, Will and I successfully had our very first Christmas as a married couple. It went by so quickly. I can hardly believe that its over, and I'm a little sad, as usual, when all of the holiday fun is over. I think I understand now why some people start decorating the weekend before Thanksgiving. It just makes it last that much longer.

I look at our tree that is still a beautiful shade of evergreen--and, it is still just half-lit, but that's ok, I kind of like it that way now--and think that Christmas must still be a week away. But, its not. And now, all that I have to look forward to is the dismantling of all the Christmas magic and my $125 gift card to JCrew (YESSS!! Thanks Mare and TuTu).

I have quite a few pictures that I can't wait to share with all of you that will provide just a little more insight into the First Jackson Christmas. But, those will have to wait. Sometimes, I think that I use pictures as a shortcut to the story, when really I should be telling you the story with words, not pictures. I think that you are all smart enough to appreciate that. Still, I know the appeal of pictures and maybe the un-appeal of paragraph after paragraph of monotonous words. So, give me a day to organize myself and my camera.

I wish that I could say that Will and I started some full proof traditions this year, but I'm not really sure that we did. There were no stockings (because I couldn't find any that I liked, and the ones that I liked were too expensive and we are poor; very poor). There was no Christmas movie upon completion of the tree decorating, because we don't have a DVD player and money to rent the DVD. (Pathetic, right?) But, we did put on/hold/display all of the gifts that we had given each other and posed in front of the tree amidst the wrapping paper and boxes that contained said gifts and took some photos. Those photos (pronounced "fo-toes"; haltingly) are to come. I hope that they make you laugh.

Late night Christmas Eve with an opera choir belting out some tunes on our too big TV and Will and I knee deep in wrapping paper giving each other unexpected, surprising but much appreciated gifts was truly magical. That was the best night ever. Laughing and hugging and kissing after each gift was opened, shouting, "I would have never expected this in a million years!" Or, "Wow, babe, you did so good." "I did good? Really?" "You did great. Really." "I love you." "I love you more." "I love this!!"

It was wonderful. I want to relive it. And, hopefully I will each time I put on the black feathered headband or beaded necklace or fish-covered wellies or blue knit sweater that he gave me. The magic of Christmas is here to stay!

Christmas time is here...

2009-12-22T06:42:00.000-08:00

Well, a lot has happened since my last post, almost a week ago. Will and I have attended 2 Christmas parties, been locked out of the cottage, exchanged early gifts and spent a ton of money (that we don't have--by the way--is that a problem?--yeah, it is). Oops.

Shall I bore you all with a detailed list of all that we have done, analyzing each episode of our life and what it will mean for our future and might mean for the future of generations to come?

Nah.

I'm sick of "update" postings. I know that you must be as well.

I think that instead I will expose Will and I for the procrastinators that we are. We still have to receive one present in the mail (fingers crossed that it comes before Christmas), get two others and make one!!!!!! Yikes. There aren't enough hours in the day. I have never been a person that Christmas just sneaks up on. I count down for this holiday beginning in September. But, I [and Will (especially)] cannot shake our lazy tail feathers long enough to complete our Christmas shopping list before Christmas Eve. I still haven't even wrapped one gift!

What is wrong with me?

I don't feel lazy. I must be in denial. And, Will is just as bad (if not worse than me)!

It is at times like these that I wish I was a little more like my mother. She's had presents wrapped and under the tree for weeks now. How does she do it!?

I need a life secretary.

PS-I can't wait to show you all the DIY Christmas present that Will and I will be making all tonight and tomorrow. Its awesome! I would tell you now, but I don't want to spoil it for the people who will be receiving it.

This is what I miss

2009-12-16T04:23:00.001-08:00

GIRLS' NIGHT!

The one thing that Columbia has yet to offer me is girlfriends in order to have a proper girls' night! But, even if it did, I just don't think that it would be the same.

I never had as much fun as I did this particular night. We bar-hopped it up and in style, too! We were driven around the city in the back of a limo. Oh yeah! Margaret stole an apron from Blind Tiger, wore it as we danced at Trio and had everyone sign it (most were people that we didn't know), because she was going back to Kansas that next week. That was so so sad, but one of the funnest nights ever!

If I remember correctly, Elizabeth boogied her booty off and Lane wheeled and dealed our sweet ride around town.

It was just the best. I miss you girls so much!!!!

Love,
Bri

Browned to buttery perfection.

2009-12-15T04:51:00.000-08:00

Aren't these Cornish hens beautiful?

They tasted pretty darn good, too.

So, Will and I are in the market for a new laptop. I know that I had a blog memorial service for my laptop a few months back, when it blue-screened that simple word of finality, "stop." Well, after a few days of rest, I tried the power button and it came back on. I soon figured out that the fan was unable to cool off the computer because we keep it on top of our faux-leather ottoman. So, it rarely blue screens anymore, but trying to keep this beast of a computer charged is even more of a challenge. And, frankly, I and Will are both very sick of it. So, we are anxiously awaiting our tax return and the chance to buy the best laptop out there. Yay!

What WV will look like..

2009-12-13T18:53:00.001-08:00

This was Will being a wimp and curling up in the warmth of the truck's heater during the 40 degree Surfside Beach Christmas parade. I braved the cold temps the whole time!! Go me!

Well, at least this is what we will probably look like in WV

I have been talking to the Director of the Greenbrier Historical Society a lot lately :) and she keeps me updated on the temperature.

This past Friday, it was 15 degrees.

I can barely handle 45 degrees. Oh boy.

PICTURES

2009-12-10T17:35:00.000-08:00

Here are many, many pictures. To you, from me with love.

First, we have the Christmas pictures.

This is the door ornament that I made.Total cost: $3

TREE TIME:

"You'll do, tree."

Going home...

The tree is still only half lit (don't judge!).

Christmas music on the laptop and a twinkling tree.

Sparkling wine with raspberry toast for such a great day!

And, now, for the super cool, totally awesome and beautiful handmade (by me!) silk flower brooch. Can you tell that I am proud of and excited about it!? You aren't ready for these model shots! Seriously, you aren't. They're pretty rough, but hilarious.

Total cost to make: $3

What do you think?
I'm making a belt next. And Mare is in store for a totally cool headband as soon as I find some good flowers and get inspired!

Goodnight all.

I swear

2009-12-10T06:28:00.001-08:00

that I will post pictures of our Christmas-ized cottage tonight. I swear!!!

First, I have to run out to Big Lots to get more lights. Then, undecorate the bottom half of the tree. Remove the bad lights. String the good lights. And finally, redecorate the tree. Oh yeah, and I need to vacuum up all of the needles from the tree that the Panther has knocked down during her playtime.

I am also almost finished with my homemade silk flower broach. It is deep purple with a sparkly center! Its gorgeous. I will post a picture with me modeling it! (I know you can't wait for that! If any of you remember the disaster of my "modeling" attempts for wedding pictures, you should be wary of this novice model shoot that is coming your way.)

I hope that you are all enjoying the blog's festive makeover! I can't decide if I'm digging it yet or not. The background always comes out way bigger than it is supposed to, and I'm just not a computer genius (unfortunately). I bet Larry could fix it!

Will and I are heading to Surfside Beach this weekend with my parents and my lil bro (who is much bigger than me and just killed his first deer; yikes!). We are going to the Christmas parade on Saturday. I'm looking forward to this winter, beach weekend. I love the beach this time of year, because there are no tourists, just the locals. It offers a glimpse into a community that is so many times overrun by visitors, who oftentimes are loud, pretentious and disrespectful. I will be sure to take loads of pictures of Will doing all of the yard work that my dad has planned for him! Ha.

Now to totally switch topic and explore one of my daily day dreams: Where and in What Will and I Will Be Living in WV

This is what the This Old House website had to say about Lewisburg, WV:

Lewisburg, West Virginia

The Neighborhood
Outdoor enthusiasts, artists, and old-house buffs find common ground in Lewisburg. The Allegheny Mountain town boasts hundreds of historic homes, churches, and public buildings, all set in an outdoor paradise known for its fishing, hiking, and canoeing. This 200-plus-year-old community is featured in The 100 Best Small Art Towns in America and is home to the Greenbrier Valley Theatre and a Carnegie Hall—affiliated performing arts center.

The Houses
While some homes here date to the late 1700s, most were built in the early 19th century. Styles include hand-hewn log cabins, brick Federals, and Victorian-era cottages with plenty of gingerbread details.

I will go ahead and admit that I only picture us living in a house if: A) said house is 75 years+ old, B) that's it.

I would love to live here:

Preferably on the third floor. And, I mean the whole third floor. Will is semi-obsessed with the idea of living in a loft, and I am all for it. I think a building like this could offer us just as much as we could offer it. It would be painted in varying hues of blue and green with accents of white and burnt orange. You can take the girl from the coast but you can't take the coast from the girl!

This is a building somewhere in downtown Lewisburg. I hope and pray daily that I will walk into some awesome opportunities upon moving there. And, I secretly hope and dream and pray that it will be a sweet living situation like this. I bet the third floor of the above building is vacant and in desperate need of some TLC that I am more than willing to give it.

My most recent daydream:
I will get a great job with the historical society that will own a building like the above building. And, that they will offer me as part of my salary, free living space on the upper floors!!!!

IN MY DREAMS.

But, I can dream, right?

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!

2009-12-08T07:03:00.001-08:00

Well, our tree is decked almost to completion. Unfortunately, the very old strands of lights that I inherited from the parents did not shine this year. This means that currently only half of our tree is lit. (So, this in turn means that pictures will not be posted until it is shining and finished and perfect!) I am making the ubiquitous Wal-Mart run as soon as G-Riffin wakes up from his little snooze. On the list: Christmas lights, silk flowers (do they exist?? and where??) for a home-made art project and some white v-neck t's.

This will be our first adventure as nephew and aunt. I hope that it will be a great one! We shall see.

I am planning on making a silk flower broach and a ribbon belt with silk flower applique. I am not exactly sure how to do either of these things, but I think that I can figure it out. The only trouble seems to be finding silk flowers. I have looked at Wal-Mart already and Hobby Lobby with no success. I wasn't looking very hard though, which is not unusual. So, I'm going to try again!

I will be sure to post pictures of my success and failures (hopefully none). I've been feeling so creative lately, and writing, which usually works has not been my fix. So, off to artland I trek!

Long enough....

2009-12-03T16:27:00.000-08:00

Well, I figured that it had been long enough since my last post. I don't know what came over me. 2 weeks ago, I had to practice extreme restraint to keep me from blogging multiple times a day. But lately, the last thing that I have wanted to do is blog.

Well, the silence is over. I'm here to blog. Read and beware.

I think that I will catch all of my faithful readers up on the goings-on of the Jackson household. This post could then turn out to be one of two things: 1) fascinatingly interesting and entertaining or 2) exceedingly boring and rambling and everything not good about a blog post.

I guess the only way to find out is to begin. So, hold your breath and scroll.

But, don't really hold your breath.

But, do scroll.

First thing's first: Thanksgiving.

Whirlwind is the best word to describe my second favorite holiday. I can hardly believe that it was just last week. It might have something to do with the enormous amount of stress I was under that has created this fog of memories. I knew that with marriage came the inevitable rock of my holiday world, but I had no idea what to expect.

Unfortunately, Will and I hadn't exactly finalized our plans. And, by finalized, I mean excelled (think: Microsoft Excel--the best organizational tool EVER) our day into 15 minute increments. I was panic-stricken that I might miss something. Well, I did miss something. I missed Thanksgiving dinner with my family. But, don't worry, we ate. We had a fabulous dinner at Will's mother's house with most of his family. It was just different. It wasn't what usually happened on Thanksgiving. It was weird. And, it hurt. A little bit. But, Will and I are slowly but surely beginning our own traditions. I am so excited about this new phenomenon, but there's still a little room for mourning the way things used to be and never will be again. And, I did mourn just a little bit, bursting into tears in the shower, before the big day even began. Will held me and comforted me, and although I spent the rest of the day a little sad, I still enjoyed our first Thanksgiving as a married couple.

I love you, Thanksgiving. I love you, tradition. I love you, my NEW HUGE FAMILY. And, I love that this is just the beginning of something so New and so BEAUTIFUL. Bring on the change.

Lucky you that I didn't submit you all to the habitual list of all of the things for which I am most thankful! Numero uno reason why I didn't post on Thanksgiving day. You can thank me later.

BOOTS.

My boots arrived. They are perfect. They are beautiful. I am in love with them.

Work.

Work is work is work is work is work. It keeps me busy and I am very thankful for all of the wonderful experience that I am gaining.

Christmas Decorations.

Now, for my most favorite holiday of all. This past Sunday, I put away my Fall decorations, which consist of a wreath of fall leaves (fake of course), 2 pumpkin figurines, 2 real pumpkins and two little hand towels with Jack-O-lanterns on them. I was so excited to put out my Christmas decorations, until I realized that I don't have any. Well, that's not exactly true. I have a good bit of tree decorations but sadly with no tree to put them on. However, the problem arose when I went to accessorize the cottage! The only things to put around the house were two red hand towels with snowmen on them. That's it!(I just can't make myself count the Christmas-themed tissue box in the bathroom as decor.)

Needless to say, I went decor shopping yesterday at, dun dah dun, Dollar General and Dollar Tree. I found so much cute stuff!!! I think that I am now in love with these two stores. What right did I have to be such a dollar snob? I am truly ashamed of myself. I will punctually take pictures of all of my new, cute decorations and post them for all to see. I also made my own big, red ribbon with huge Christmas balls on it to crown the front door. We will see how successful it is, and I might post a picture of it. It was my first attempt at bow-making, so be nice.

Will informed me the other day of what he wants as our Christmas tradition. Said tradition:

-decorate the tree
-oldies but goodies Christmas music in the background
-very large mug of hot chocolate in hand
-our favorite (at the moment) Christmas movie to be viewed upon completion of decorating

Sounds marvelous, babe. I can't wait to start traditioning with you!

Ok. I think that is all for now. I hate a blog post sans picture, but I will bombard you with shots of decor next time (actually, probably later on tonight). I feel my blog fever returning, so it shouldn't be too long for my next post!

Will,

2009-11-23T08:28:00.000-08:00

I just wanted you to know that you define me.

Love,

Bri