Saturday, April 30, 2011

Runner Crazy

Mike and I ran a 5K this morning and finished in 27:10.  Which averages us at a few seconds over a 9 minute mile, woot!  I ran it harder than I would have liked, but I think I did that because I knew it was only 3 miles.  That's the pace that I wanted to do my half at, but I also know I couldn't keep the pace I ran this morning up for 13.1 miles.  The day after my half I hurt.  Which I fully expected considering how much I had hurt right after the race.  But I realized when I woke up in the morning that I must block the hurting part out, because other wise I wouldn't keep doing these things!  And, another part of it is that I get the runner crazy now.

My sister ran her 2nd marathon on a slight stress fracture.  She went to a doctor who told her she couldn't do any more damage by running her marathon, and as long as she took 6 weeks off after the race she would be fine.  So she decided to run it anyway.  I thought she was nuts and asked her not to run.  But she ran it, took the time off to heal after, and completed 4 more after that. (That's 6 total. Yeah, 6.) 

I decided I'm going to do a marathon. (whether I do one fall '11 or spring '12 is still up in the air for the moment).  But I am going to do one, and before I'm 30.  I've been discussing my running schedule a bit with dr soc, and while he doesn't want me to do a marathon, he knows I'm going to do it anyway and will be my support staff day of.  I told him about Amy's stress fracture and her running anyway, which freaked him out, and he turned to me and said: "promise me you won't do that."

And I couldn't answer him.  Because I know now.  If the doctor told me I wouldn't do any more damage and said I was good to go, you bet your ass I would run.  I self diagnosed my shin splits and I still ran my 2 halves last year.  Shin splits are not a stress fracture so not even the same thing.  But I taped my legs, popped some pills and ran through the discomfort, because not running something I had been training for didn't even cross my mind.

The runner crazy is not something everyone gets.  But once you do...good luck ever getting rid of it!

Friday, April 29, 2011

Royal Dreams

I did not stay up or try to wake up early to watch the royal wedding.  But I did dvr the thing so I could watch all the hoopla and also to close the door on that particular princess dream.  By the time I woke up this morning, took the dog out and fed her, there was a new princess in England.  I stayed away from the interwebs because I didn't want to ruin the surprise for myself.  I settled onto the couch, a dog on each side, a coffee mug in one hand and the remote in the other.

Here is a summary of what I watched and some of my running commentary: 
  • First hour and half: The Panthers selected Cam Newton.  And there were tornadoes in Alabama. ( I knew both last night).  English car.  The Panthers took Cam Newton!  Tornadoes in Alabama. Local weather. English person in a hat. The Panthers took Cam Newton! Local weather. Local traffic. Bad storms in the south. Cam Newton! English. Fun hat. Local news. Storms.  Yeah, hour and a half.
  • Ok, finally, live coverage of the royals arriving.  Hats!   
  • Man, the British do catty really well!  Maybe it's the accent.
  • Oh the queen! She's wearing yellow.  I like yellow.  Dude, did the fashion guy just dis the yellow?  Uh, no, you can't be catty about the queen.
  • Wow. It's really loud in Brittan!
  • Hey, the Queen moves really well. 
  • Should I be drinking coffee or tea?  Ehh, I'm not British. 
  • queen gets a fanfare?! Awesomesauce.  Wait, of course she gets a fanfare. She's the queen (bitches). 
  • Kate makes her appearance: Oh, pretty dress!  Bets are under or over: 15 foot train?
  • Of course she's wearing a tiara!  You are marring a prince.  She had a lot of tiaras to choose from. Once again. Of course.
  • Lovely is used a lot.
  • Pippa. Damn! That is a fantastic dress!
  • Agreed, very Grace Kelly.  Oh, from the House of McQueen. Nice. (Queen bitches. snicker) 
  • Harry's epaulets are eating him.  Look out Harry, I'm coming for you.
  • Why can't Wills look at her? Man, Mike better be looking at me when I walk down the aisle.  
  • Awwww.  They look happy. 
  • Singing. Crowd shot. Sir Elton! Queen, bitches. Cute British boys. And fast forward. 
  • Who coughed during the hold his part?  Dude. 
  • Yeah, traditional vows rock.
  • More singing. That's a stupid hat, I don't care princess or not.
  • Reading. More ffwd.
  • What's the newsworthy part about her leaving out obey.  We knew this days before.  I'm not going to say obey?  Mike can though if he wants.
  • Singing/reading. God I love my dvr.
  • Only 8 minutes left. Boo, the dvr didn't the balcony kiss.  I would have if the first half wasn't Cam Newton.  God I hate local news.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

First Round

Happy NFL draft day!  Ok, so I'm not as excited about that as say, dr soc is, but at least my Panthers have first pick! Wait. 

I don't really care about the draft at all.  But dr soc really really does.  He can't live without NFL football and since he's a long suffering Browns fan, his team usually has one of the first few picks in the draft.  This is their moment!  (Because I love my boyfriend I also cheer for the Browns now too.  I've already learned the most important phrase of being a Browns fan: there's always next year.)  So when I say he's excited, he's super excited.  You know how I took off running down the bubble of tulle path?  It's something like that for him, only with less squealing and no need for deposits.   

Anyway, he's cleaning up after dinner last night and talking all excited about draft day and I'm just uh-huhing like you do.  But he made some joke about how awesome it would be if he had the connections to select me in the draft as his wife.  Which, hell yeah!  I actually want that moment to be fairly private and really just between us (and maybe the dogs), but how freaking awesome would that be?  With the 6th pick of the nfl draft dr soc picks Sarah to be his wife.  Total awesomesauce. 

Because the ring hasn't come in yet and I know there are too many strings that have to be pulled for that to even be possible, it definitely got me thinking: I better be a first round pick!

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Nomad No More

The other day I threw a small cardboard box into the recycling bin.  Why is this note worthy you may ask?  Because for a very long time, I never broke down a box or threw it away unless it was too damaged to be used again.  I've pretty much kept almost every single box I've ever received and still have the original packaging most of my stuff came in.

This mainly started in college.  I unpacked my new shiny dorm things from their original containers and then also kept the boxes my mom sent care packages in,  Yes, my roommates thought that was a little odd.  But when it was time to move out of our dorm room, guess who could pack all of her stuff and had a few left over to share?  Yep.   In my defense, at the time I was moving a lot.  I knew that every place I moved to, I would be moving out of in less than a year and would have to pack everything up all over again.  When I was on co-op, I moved every 3 months.  But why did I keep the original containers?  Because what better way to pack something than in a box specifically shaped for it?  Seriously! Ok, little ocd there too. 

So yeah, I keep boxes.  But I was getting tired of living a nomadic lifestyle.  Before I moved to Charlotte I counted how many times I moved, and realized this relocation would be number 20.  So I declared it my last move.  I would not be packing up all my worldly goods and shoving them into my protegee ever again (also, I had a new car at that point).  I don't need to collect or keep anymore boxes.  Old habits die hard, but dr soc is fearful I may be slightly a hoarder, so he pushed for me get rid of the packaging.  Eventually, recycling these things just came naturally.  So when I threw that small box in recycling bin without even thinking, I realized:

I am a nomad no more!

Monday, April 25, 2011

Not Long

I'm not "officially" engaged.  Official meaning the ring hasn't come in yet, so dr soc has not gotten down on one knee with it and asked me to make him the happiest man in the world by marrying him yet.  YET.  To some, the officialness of the status is just a semantic and the ring is a technicality.  We know we're getting married, we live together, the ring's on order, and the big thing is we're (ok, I'm) planning the wedding.  So why don't we consider ourselves engaged?  We just don't right now.  When he puts the ring on my finger is when we'll be engaged, and that's how we both see it.   

However, there's lots going on for someone who's not officially engaged.  I am no holds barred, unfettered, took off the down the bubble of tulle path without looking back planning our wedding.  We've set a date, set up appointments and meeting to look at things and vendors, priced caterers and djs, and my bubble of tulle spreadsheet (seriously, I named it that) is getting bigger and bigger as we speak.  All stuff I said I wouldn't do until I was engaged.

But we picked a popular date.  So if we want our choice of things and to stay within our budget, we need to be planning ahead.  I don't want to have to book an over priced whatever simply because that's all whose was available.  Plus, I have the time right now to pour over websites and read the fine print, and the squee momentum to keep me going.  Yeah I get balled up in the details sometimes and dr soc has to pull me back and refocus me (or say no to the 10 story ice sculpture (and the releasing of 2 doves symbolizing our love (what?)), but I love it.  Love, love, love it. 

The only small caveat about the officalness of my status and the wedding planning not lining up, is that now vendors are calling/emailing me, and some ask how long have we been engaged.  I'm not going to say, well, technically we're not yet, because then I have to explain the pragmatic plan in advance but not thinking of each other as a fiance yet.   And since they can't see me anyway, my answer is pretty simple.  "Not that long!"

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Leave a Note!

The other day Mike went into the office earlier than usual.  Since I was sleeping pretty heavily he decided to not wake me up (a wise decision), but he didn't leave a note telling me that's what he had done (not a wise decision).  So when I wake up and get out of bed, he's nowhere to be found in the house and there's no note telling me where he is.  He had told me the night before what his plans were, but I was still pretty foggy in general since I had been sleeping so heavily.  Remembering something he mentioned the night before in passing didn't cross my mind as the obvious answer, so I start to worry a little bit. 

I look again for a note, but nada.  I debate calling his office to see if he's there, but just to be safe I call his cell because that's on his person.  If he doesn't answer that then I'll know to start worrying more.  But he answers, he's in his office and he's perfectly fine.  I do not let him off the phone though without a mild scolding telling him he needs to leave me a note other wise I don't know where he is, and I get confused and/or worry.  Which I swear is not co-dependent at all.

Well, last night we rented the movie a 127 hours. I watched most of it. I say most because **spoiler** the amputation scene was too realistic and graphic for me and I had to close my eyes.  But no one goes to look for Aron because no one knew where he was even going.  The end of the movie it's revealed that Aron still does his outdoorsy stuff, but now always leaves a note saying where he's going.  And while I know that neither Mike or I will ever be as extreme outdoorsy or as much as a loner as Aron was, I still turn to my boyfriend and say: "see how important it is to leave a note?"

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Money Distribution

Scene: I'm (surprise!) "researching" parts of the wedding.  I'm currently pricing caterers.

me (gleefully): You know what's fun? Looking at these catering menus!
dr soc: I bet. Probably more fun than grading papers. --Grabs his school bag and starts heading up towards the office--
me: Yep. Way more fun.
dr soc: Thanks. See you in a little bit.
me (lovingly): Cool. Hey, you have fun up there doing your job and making us a living. I'll stay down here and figure out how to spend it!

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Cooking for ____

My pallet gets bored pretty quickly.  I can't eat the same thing over and over again because I get sick of it, and then I'll never eat it again*.  By the time I had my own apartment and started cooking for myself, I knew enough about my tastes to know I had to try new things or I would never eat.  And since I get cranky when I don't eat, my options were to either eat out a lot, or learn to cook.  I chose the latter as the long term plan.  And you would think that most guys want a girl who cooks.

My ex however was a childish picky eater, and cooking for him was a nightmare.  Not only did he want the same boring thing over and over, I had to alter every recipe I had so as not to offend him, and nothing he cooked had any taste.  Once, just once, I baked boneless, skinless chicken breast in cream of mushroom soup, and he was so grossed out he flicked the tiny bits of mushroom off the chicken and at me.  Yeah.  He flicked the dinner that I made for us at me.  Instead of being offended at the time, I thought to myself, oh, I messed up.  And then I found my dignity again and said fuck this.

So, when I left him I cackled with glee at the thought of being able to cook however and whatever the hell I wanted.  My cookbooks would finally get their day in the sun!  But I also moved back home to my parent's house, where my mom does all the cooking.  And that was AWESOME, because I got to go to school and work and have a social life and didn't have to worry about not eating.

When I moved to Charlotte, I promptly conquered the kitchen as my domain and took over most things food related.  Now my cookbooks have their day in the sun, and I have tried more recipes in the past 4 months than I ever have had in my years of cooking.  I'm loving this new found cooking freedom that I have.  Not that everything I make is ridiculously tasty and delicious, but I'm trying.  What's even better, is that dr soc tries whatever I make without asking what's in it, sometimes goes back for seconds, and cleans the kitchen after dinner.  No childish pallet, no flicking of food, and he appreciates that I cook in general, the trying new recipes and tells me so. 

Yeah. When I say I upgraded, I really did.  My life's good.

* To this day I can't eat a stuffed pasta shell or those handi-snack cheese and cracker packets.  Even the thought of them here makes me gag a little.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Kids say the best things 2

When Buddy followed dr soc home on Saturday, a few of the kids that live on our street saw the two of them and wanted to help out.  The kids thought they knew who Buddy belonged to, but they were mistaken.  So the kids tagged along and hung around our front porch for a little bit, but before they did that they were responsible and let their parents know everything was "ok, we're with an adult!"

Anyway, while dr soc is on the phone with animal control, I stood on our front porch holding Buddy's leash and chatted with the kids getting to know them a little bit.  Dr soc and I understand the unspoken rule how it's acceptable for me, the woman, to ask little kids their names and where they live, but it's questionable and creepy if he does it.  And there's also an unspoken rule that kids can still get away with asking you fairly personal questions. 

kid 1*: do you go to college?
me: No, I just graduated a few months ago.  I moved here to be with dr soc.
kid 2: What does he do?
me: He's a teacher.
kid 3: Is he your husband?
me: No, not yet.  Right now he's just my boyfriend.
kid 3: Oh.  Well, is he going to ask you to marry him?!
me (smiling): Yeah, he will.
kids 3 & 5 (eagerly): When?
me (still smiling my goofy marriage smile): I don't really know, but I think it will be soon enough.** 
kids 3, 4 & 5 (squealing like only 3 8-year olds girls can): Awww!

* I learned and remembered the kids' names. However, I will not blast any information to the interwebs.
**FYI darling, Christmas time is NOT soon. 

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Pattern Sizes

When I first started bartending, one of the female servers thought I was "the most spoiled person in the world," and if she saw an opportunity to pop my "sheltered bubble," she took it.  Eventually I left that job and everyone else at that place behind and it doesn't really matter anymore.  But at the time she was a thorn in my side and if I got to put her in place so to speak I enjoyed it.

Like when I went wedding dress shopping.  Since bitchy co-worker (bcw) had gotten married a year ago, she was telling me all the "ins" of dress shopping.  And she warns me that I'll have to buy a bigger size and I shouldn't get upset about that.  I knew this already.  For several reasons:
  1. I have been planning my wedding since I was 6.
  2. Every bridal magazine you ever read tells you this. 
  3. My sister and a few friends who have bought their wedding dresses told me the same thing, and I may have even been the person to tell them that in the first place.  And,
  4. I spent 6 years in design school and have friends in fashion who have told me about pattern sizes. 
 Anyway, I get the dress, and it's the bcw restaurant gossip queen's front page news.  Not only does she want to know what the dress looks like so she can describe it to others, she also wants to know how shell shocked I was to be a bigger size.  The conversation goes something like this:

bcw: So what's it look like?
me: Beautiful.
bcw: no, really, what's it look like?
me: I'm not telling you anything and I want it to be a surprise.
bcw: Who would I tell?
me: Um everyone. I'm not giving anyone, any details.
bcw: --Sulky-- Fine, a surprise.  Did you at least have to order a bigger size like I told you?
me: A little, yeah, but I expected that.
bcw:  How much bigger?
me: Just a little.
bcw: What size? 
me--exasperated sigh--: Fine.  I ordered a four.
bcw: A four?
me: Yep.
bcw: A four. Wow, skinny thing.
me: Yeah, and the only reason we really went up to that size is because my bust is too big to fit in the 2. 
Ok, I know being catty doesn't put me in in the most shining light.  And it was several years ago and I should just let it go.  But when someone who thinks that poorly of you tries to jab at you just because, tell me you wouldn't act similarly if you could.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Third dog

Inspired by my 13.1 miles yesterday morning, Mike decided to go for a short run around the neighborhood before lunch.  Well, it was more him going for a run in the attempts to get his sinuses to open up and drain all the snot out of his head more so than him being inspired by me, but whatever.
Anyway, mid run, he gets a running buddy in the form of this guy:
HI!!!! I'm a cute and friendly buddy without a collar!

The dog has no collar and he's pretty wet, so Mike thinks he was probably outside durring the storm.  Well, this dog is friendly and has no fear, so he follows Mike home, all the way up to our front door, and wants to come inside.  However, our dogs have been posted at the front window ever since Mike took off for his jog, whining in wait for the moment Mike comes back.  So when thier daddy does come back (oh thank god! they must think) they also see this new guy tagging along and they are not about to let that go unnoticed.  Also along the run Mike got a few of the neighborhood kids following him ala pide pipper style, but without the creepy flute and kidnapping thing.  The kids want to help with the dog, so they hold him on our front porch while Mike squeezes himself through our front door so he can grab Bailey's harness and leash.

This dog had no id and none of us have any inclination to who's dog this is.  He's obviously someone's, because he's friendly and trained, but there's no one really around to ask or looking for him.  The best we can do in the moment is call animal conrol so he goes someplace safe for a little bit.  I hop on the trusty interwebs and get the phone number for our county's shelter, but since it was 20 minutes until they closed, and it was a weekend, they weren't going to do anything. Seriously.  The police couldn't do anything either since taking a dog is considered a felony.  Mike hangs up the phone and tells me the two options: let the dog go and leave it to wander around, or keep him until monday morning and drop him off at the shelter ourselves.

We exchange a look and we both know we can't just let this guy go.  Plus we have have 5 kids on our front porch looking to us adults to fix the situation.  So,we make a plan. Fortunatly Bailey has 2 harnesses and 2 crates, so the stranger dog can be put in the bigger of Bailey's crate and stay for the weekend.  However, we only have 2 leashes at the moment, and we have to at least introduce all 3 dogs to each other before we can even think about bringing him in our/the girls' house.

Mike holds the stranger dog in the harness while I run back inside to harness and leash the girls.  I let the girls smell the other dog on me before we head outside to meet this guy on sidewalk to make it feel less territorial.  It went ok, and once they've met, I take the girls back inside and we play some muscial crates.  We leash stranger dog and lead him into the house, and with a little coaxing, he goes into Bailey's crate.  For the moment all 3 of them are crated in our dining room, and being (somewhat) quiet.  Phew!

We decide that we'll have to take all 3 of them for a walk later so they can get used to each other.  But we still only have 2 leashes.  So Mike runs out to wallmart and gets a spare, and we eventually get all 3 dogs on a walk, with me handeling the girls and Mike the stranger dog.  And then the best thing possible happened: the owner of the dog was walking around the neighbor hood looking for him!  Buddy (yep, stranger dog's name) bolts over to his owner and we hand him off.  They had been giving him a bath before and he had sliped away while they were in thier backyard.  That's why he was all wet and didn't have a collar.  The owner thanks us for finding him and taking care of him, and we find out where buddy lives just in case he ever escapes again.  We continue on our walk, Buddy returns home, and Mike and I are 200% sure that even though Buddy is really friendly and sweet, we will never ever get a 3rd dog!  

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Half Wrap Up

So, I just found out my results.......
2:05:00 on the dot!  That's a 3 second improvement and I have a new best time!
So I didn't finish under 2 hours, but I'm super ok with that.  My overall pace was a 9:35 mile, which is about right and what I figured  since I knew I ran a 10 minute mile the first 3, a 9 minute mile the next 3, and then a 10 minute here, a 9 minute there.

We were literally trying to outrun the severe weather that was sweeping towards the east.  The race day weather contingency plan was that the race would go on rain or shine, but if there was thunder and lightning the start would be delayed.  If the delay lasted long enough so that the time span on the road closures ran out, the race would be shortened to a 10k.  Fortunately, mother nature wasn't slated to throw a tantrum until 10 am, so most people would be finished or close to it by then.  It's actually just starting to really storm this minute, so looks like all of us runners caught a break on that one. 

Not that the weather was beautiful.. By no means did we have optimal running conditions.  There were a few rain showers and some wind, which blew (oh! pun! hehe!), but it wasn't pouring the entire time so I didn't feel soaked, and I wasn't running head first into the wind all the time either.
action shot dr soc took of me a few seconds before I crossed the finish line

This might be the worst shape my body has been in after a race though.  I'm physically tired which is to be expected.  But this is the first time I've gotten blisters on my feet. My 10 mile training run I got two small ones on both arches and they hadn't healed fully.  So I re-irritated the area and now I have a big 'ol blood blister, but just on one, so phew.  It's not pretty, but walking isn't an issue, so it should heal in time.  My toes hurt a little but I expected that since that's status quo for me.  However, my sports bra, which I've never had any problems with, decided it would choose today to chafe.  So that's not the most pleasant feeling.  My final post long run woe is my sentiments towards the training gels: Oh running gels, you are my running's friend but my intestine's foe. (I went with a carb boom this time, so it's mainly discomfort and not the feeling of my intestines being shredded)

But, hey, I just ran and finished my 5th half marathon.  Fifth!  I have a new best time!  I'm still going to do a marathon next spring, and I'm ready for that.  Go me! 

Friday, April 15, 2011

Oh, yeah...

In the midst awaiting my friends' new baby boy arrival (welcome little man!) and the bubble of tulle excitement of ring shopping, I don't remember if I mentioned that I'm running a half marathon tomorrow morning.

I've been training since January and I've had minimal pain and issues.  Usually it was just due to me over doing something the day before or a clothes mishap.  (You'd be surprised how often I get stuck in my sports bra.) Anyway, I'm hoping to take 5 minutes off my time and finish just under 2 hours. Totally doable, but we shall see!

So, yeah.  About that: wish me luck!

Thursday, April 14, 2011


Dr soc reads my blog.  Here was his response to yesterdays post:

dr soc: so, you want me to wait until Christmas?
me (seriously): NO!
dr soc: you sure? I can if you really want me to.  If it means that much to you.
me (emphatically):  NO!!
dr soc: I can keep the ring at the jewelers for as long as I need to until I'm ready...
me (hysterically): NO!!!!!!! Don't you dare!
dr soc: -sigh- I'm just trying to make your dreams come true.
me: I hate you.

So. On that note. I fully retract yesterday's post. 

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Underneath the Christmas Tree

I have always thought it would super romantic to get engaged around Christmas.  Christmas can be very romantic if you make it that way, and proposing is super romantic, so to me, the two just go together.  So I've hoped that if the timing was right, I would get a proposal at the most magical time of the year. 

However, real life and fanciful proposal dreams often don't follow a plan, nor do they line up.  And so, when I got engaged the first time, a Christmas time proposal would have either been too soon in our relationship or past the point of me being patient and understanding.  But the lack of twinkling lights was no biggie since I was happy that it happened, and it didn't matter it wasn't at the time I imagined.  And also, turns out, that future husband was a dud.

So then the Christmas proposal still had the possibility of happening.  And I was fortune to get an upgrade on the future husband in the form of dr soc.  So I also get a do-over (or do-better) with this engagement and proposal.  So I could very well get my super romantic underneath the Christmas tree proposal.

Except for the fact that is is April right now and dr soc is going to ask me to marry him soonish.  I know it's soonish because yesterday he and I looked at the center stone for my ring an there's a deposit involved. (I was told to look around the store while the financial and timing aspects were discussed jeweler to future fiance.)

Now there's nothing that says dr soc couldn't wait until Christmas.  Except for the fact that I seriously can't wait that long.  I'm already nuts with excitement and the waiting is driving me a little (lots) crazy.  And I know that I know the ring's been ordered so I know the time frame that it'll come in.  Sooner's way better than later on this.  So when December rolls around and it is the most magical time of the year, I'll have a fiance by my side to celebrate.  Squee!

Saturday, April 9, 2011

I Love a Good Sale

Especially at diamond stores!
There's a jeweler in Charlotte having their once a year huge spring sale/event this weekend.  I learned about it over the radio since they've been hyping it up this whole week.  Dr soc has satellite radio so he doesn't hear the local stuff, so I was helpful and and told him about it since he's in the market for a sparkly.  Plus, they were having h'ordeuvres.

I learned several things this shopping trip:
  1. That I can be good and not say ME WANT!!! at every diamond ring I put on.
  2. What kind of jewelry Panthers wear. (This jeweler is the official jeweler of the Carolina Panthers.  The answer is: whatever they want, and it usually is at least 4-5 carats.)
  3. That a 15 carat heart shaped emerald is gorgeous and perfectly acceptable form of heart shaped jewelry.
  4. And how 3 carats of center stone looks on my hand. Awesome.
And, oh yeah, we found something! Now I just have to wait for the stone to be shipped in.  And then for the ring to be made.  And then for him to get it.  And then for him to ask me to marry him. Waiting is hard!

Friday, April 8, 2011

Status Update

First, skim this.
The gist is that some politician said uterus on the senate floor and the clinical term is a (gasp!) dirty word.
So I snarked:
me: I refer to my uterus as "the baby oven."  I should give it a facebook page and say it's status is "empty"
Nancy: And then I can "like" it......
LB: Can we ask it to join mafia wars?  Or is that inappropriate? 
me: oh it's already too busy playing farmville.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Mystery Socks

There is a pair of white ankle socks in our laundry that are neither mine or dr soc's. Every time one of us finds that particular pair of socks while folding the laundry, we put it in the other one's sock drawer or back into the dirty laundry basket.  It's what we do.    

However, when we each discover the rouge pair in our drawer, we have the who's are these discussion.  We finally deduced they are probably some sort of ass tax, and figured out but left unspoken that they are probably my ex-fiance's since that's the most likely way either one of us would have ended up with some other guy's socks.  (If that's the case I really didn't even know I still had them. I threw the contents of my dresser into some bags and moved to Charlotte.)  

So yesterday, I saw them in my sock drawer, and of course we had the these-are-not-mine-discussion.  And I decided to save us from 50 more years of bickering about who's socks are who's I would just throw them away.  And thus: problem solved! 

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Words of Wisdom

I've been watching Teen Mom 2. Shut up. It's fascinating and doesn't glamorize anything. But I though it would share/paraphrase some words of wisdom I learned while watching the show.

baby daddy: I've cheated on you, like, 5 times.
teen mom: What? Why?
baby daddy: Well, if I had been happy with you I wouldn't have cheated.

Oh, ok, I get it now. Justifying it makes it ok.  Calling her a selfish, stupid fcking bitch, and the baby you had with her a mistake, wasn't you being a sorry excuse for a human, it was a nice thing to say. Teen mom took it the wrong way, and that made you unhappy.  So it's ok for you get physical gratification somewhere else.

teen mom: Why is he being this way? I thought he wanted to be with us.
teen mom teen friend who also has a baby: Just because he has a baby with you doesn't mean he wants to be with you forever.

Sigh. It THIS what we're teaching teenagers nowadays? That's it's ok to leave and being an ass is justifiable?

I don't necessarily agree with the black and white thought that a pregnancy and/or children is the sole reason you are with someone. Some couples just don't work and constantly fighting and creating a hostile and negative environment isn't good for anyone. Some people are just awful people in general too (see above baby daddy example if you need further clarification). But I do believe that people, jackass or not, should be civil to one another, especially if there are children in the picture.

And I can say, my kids won't be like that, or I'll teach my kids better. I can say that now. I can say that I won't accept that kind of behavior. But I can't tell you what kind of people my teenagers will come to be in the next 20 years. I can say I'll teach them manners and responsibility and all that great stuff you want to do as a parent. But nothing guarantees that it will stick. Most you can do is hope that it does and roll with it.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Wonderful Problem

With my unofficial date now unofficilay selected, I became super-bride-to-be proactive and am looking at the logistics of my wedding. I'm looking to see what's available, what's in my price range and what are viable possibilities. But there's a big difference in a pretty space that can only accommodate 80 people vs one that can hold 2000. Some places just won't work for us in general, like being too expensive or having too many rules. Some places are ugly. Some are too small, some are unnecessarily too big, and others are pretty and flexible with space but used to be a funeral home and to me that's bad jujube. So to have a better idea of what I actually need and should price, I started making the guest list.

I thought I had a ball park figure. I started with the obligation invites, and then moved on to the friends, easily doubling my half. Add to that Mike's half and we have a bigger number than I had originally thought. It's not like we went from single A to the majors, but still, up. And every now and again one of us gets the I need to add so-and so to my half, and we keep adding.

So our guest list is getting bigger and bigger and I start to think, oh my god how much is this going to cost? Should I put a cap on the guest list? (the answer is yes if the number gets too out of control. But it's a high cap)  I do realize that not everyone will be able to come, but it's not good idea to select a venue that will accomadate only 80% of the guest list.  It's way easier to not fill a few seats than to it is to counjure some out of thin air.  So then you start to think, well, who will actually come and can the obligation invite just be a courtesy?  But that's not how I want to celebrate. I want the people that I love and care about there to share in my happiness, and they shouldn't be excluded from that. Friends I've accumulated over time shouldn't be on the B-list, waiting for a spot hoping for great aunt Mabel to RSVP no. (FYI, for those of you that are invited, if you don't send back the RSVP card I will hurt you.)

While I was number crunching and budgeting and wondering where to cut costs, I took a step back and realized: I have so many friends. What a wonderful "problem" to have!

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Just a little more Crow

I love jewelry.  Wait, let me rephrase that: I LOVE jewelry.  Rings, bracelets, necklace, earrings, broach, and yes a tiara, I love it all.  Diamonds, gemstones, semi-precious stones, platinum, 18 carat gold, sterling silver, jade, you name it, my interest is at the very least piqued.  So, you can imagine the sheer amount of will power I had to use to not squeal like a 4th grader and weep with joy at the 4 jewelry stores dr soc and I went to yesterday while we ring shopped.

Did you know we have a Tiffany's in Charlotte?  Do you know who's the best boyfriend ever and indulged me?  Boy oh boy, do they do sparkle well there.  There's a reason they have mirrors everywhere in that store.  Not only to make everything glitter more, but so you can see how your own face lights up when you look at a diamond so near flawless that it disappears underneath all the rainbows it reflects out.  However, that ring was $18,000.  We found a just as sparkly but slightly smaller ring much more reasonable priced at $13,000 though.  But even at that reasonable price, I could never justify buying a ring that cost more than a car. 

We went to two other local jewelers and tried on stuff there as well.  I think I behaved myself well enough or else dr soc wouldn't have kept taking me to more stores.  Of course I'm gravitating towards the rings with the larger center stones.  Of course I am.  But I'm also really into the halo setting too, which don't need as big a center stone to make the ring.  The halo setting allows for a variety of band styles, which can completely change the style of the ring.  

So I'm trying on ring after ring and we're getting a better idea of what I say I like and what I actually like and Mike is starting to understand what he likes too.  And I try on this rather large halo setting with a carat center stone and a split shank band.  Beautiful in the case, but just not the right shape and size for my own hand.  It was too big.  I know.

So I turn to away from the sparkler on my finger and towards my darling boyfriend.  And I say to him: "I'm going to say something I never thought I'd say.  But this ring is too big!"

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Crow's not that bad

Dr soc and I needed to know how much money we needed to save for our big day, and how long we had to do so. So we started looking at dates. (And I started squeeling. But I think by this point most of you know that goes without saying. So to save us all some time and me some writing, you can just rightly assume that if sparkle/the wedding/my marriage or some combination is mentioned, I am squeeling/giddy.)

Anyway, we start looking at dates/time frames, and what works best with dr soc's teaching schedule. (We're not really considering my schedule at the moment because eh, I don't have one) Turns out, one of the best weekends for us is late May, aka, Memorial Day weekend.

I've been on the nay side of holiday weddings before. In fact the reason I picked my last wedding date was specifically because it was not a holiday weekend. So me being ok with it and choosing it comes off as a wha? moment. I get that. But turns out, when you need to find a time frame you like/want and works for you, you say sure lets go for it.

And recently, I've been to a lot of holiday weddings, and I've had a blast. I haven't been any less happy for the couple, I haven't enjoyed myself any more or less due to it being a holiday, I didn't worry about the travel costs, and I've found that's it really not that big of deal to me anymore. I do still believe that a Friday night/Sunday wedding is still bull and an inconvenience though. The only exception to that is if the actual holiday itself, like New Years Eve, Valentines day, 4th of July, etc, is on those days or other weekdays. I would gladly go to a Tuesday night st patty's day wedding if that's what the couple wants. (And if I can make it too, but that's a different story).

So, while I do think birds are fowl creatures (hehehe, pun intended!) the crow I'm eating isn't that tough. I mean, I have an unofficial wedding date! Color me happy!

--blogger is publishing my blogs as one huge text block which I know is hard to read. I can't format at all for some reason. Anyone have any ideas how to fix this*?--
* I switched to the updated editor and I think that fixed it.  fingers crossed!

Friday, April 1, 2011

Birds are Gross

From when I was living at home, but I still find this relevant enough to post. scene:
Kitchen table with my mom, my coffee not having woken me up quite yet. There's this chirping/scratching noise coming form somewhere and it's irritating the bejezus out of me.
me: What is that scritchy noise?
mom: I think it's birds trying to nest in the kitchen vent.
me: Well, they should stop. It's driving the dog nuts. (and me too, but Bailey was whining at the noise and adding to it, thus making me even more irritable)
mom: They nest in the bathroom vent all the time. They picked through the opening.
me: Um, no. God, I hate birds. All of them, birds are just disgusting. ::pause:: Unless it's poultry. Those are ok.