2011

I was watching the news and the sound clip was about how some people couldn't wait to say goodbye to the year. But I didn't hate 2011, not at all.  I moved to North Carolina, I did a marathon, I have another dog, I got into grad school, and I got engaged (Hi honey! Highlight of my year!).  So if that's my 2011, I can't wait to see what 2012 will bring!

Happy New Year!

Gift with Purchase

Over thanksgiving weekend I made chili for dinner the night before to feed the masses. It was super easy what with just browning the meat, throwing all the ingredients into the crock pot and letting it simmer for 6-8 hours.  I've never had my own crock pot, but Mike does.  And while when I moved in stuff became "ours," we still know who came with what.

So when my parents arrived, they saw the chili simmering on the kitchen island.  And my mom, having shared a kitchen with me, knew that I didn't have one. So she says to me:

mom: I didn't think you had a crock pot Sarah?
me: I don't. It came with the boy!

Hour Glass

I got a confirmation call from the company we're ordering the bridesmaid dresses from saying they had recieved the order and everything looked good. So, woo hoo on that!

Sort of by coincidence I found the company (and by coincidence I mean I very deliberately clicked on a link that said "bridesmaid dresses they will actually love.") and chose them because they offer a lot of variety in their dresses, so that everyone could find something they look best in. After all, with five different wonderful women in the party, there's bound to be five different body types as well. Though, in my group of friends, we're sort of known for being somewhat top heavy. And even though I already have my dress, that didn't stop me from looking through the whole page of thumbnails and picking out my favorites too.

There was this one dress that I thought was super cute, and it was similar to the one style that all the ladies liked. Then I read the dress description:
"This dress is best suited for those with A and B cups."
me: Well, there goes my bridal party!

Elves

Because I work retail, I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to get much time off for Christmas.  At least, enough time to travel to Kentucky.  So it's a quiet Christmas of just me and Mike and our girls this year.  Well, quiet enough when Mike isn't cursing at his video game.  However, I did get Christmas Eve off.  And that happened to be the last home game of my Carolina Panthers, so Mike got me tickets to the game for Christmas.

If you had told me 5 years ago, maybe even 3, that I would receive, let alone be the one asking for football tickets I would have laughed at you.  And had you told me that I would be so excited and have a blast at the game I would have laughed even harder.  And yes, Mike knows how lucky he is that he found a woman who likes football.  And to make the Christmas gift even better, he got us seats 9 rows from the field. I know! 

And, because what kind of holiday would it be if I didn't put my dogs in some sort of costume, I clearly ignored my rational side and made each of them wear the Santa suit. And snapped pictures. So without further ado, I give you my helper elves:   

Naughty list: Bailey still hates the Santa suit.
(and is way protective of her stocking)

And:

Nice list: Jules was much more willing to don the suit.
(there were treat bribes involved)

A grad school letter, a super duper fun football game, and my two elves.  Christmas 2011 has been pretty good!

Merry Christmas! 

Jack of all trades, Master of none

Except. That I am going to get my masters!

My grad school letter came yesterday, finally!  After 3 phone calls and a billion nerves wasted, I was told that a decision had finally been made.  I just had to wait for the letter since they couldn't tell me over the phone.  I honestly wasn't expecting it to come after the new year with most of the staff at the school off for the holidays, but I was oddly settled and ok with waiting since I knew the decision had been made.

The letter came yesterday.  And I'm in!

Provisionally, but I'm still in.  And I'm classified as out of state too.  But I'm still in.  Mike and I will take a closer look at everything and figure out the logistics of everything soon.  What I may end up doing is deferring a semester so my residency status can change. I may go part time for a little and take a little longer to get the degree.  But we'll figure that out soon enough. Right now, I'm just going to enjoy that I'm in, and have pride knowing that I will get my masters.

Pretty good Christmas gift!

Football boyfriends

This year I'm in 3 fantasy football leagues, which includes my ladies league that's in it's 5th year. In two of those leagues, I have Aaron Rodgers, who has been bad ass this year and I looooooove him. But in my other league I have Drew Brees, who I have always loved.  Not that I've ever had him until this year, mind you. But I have loved him since our first year of fantasy football. And here's why.

In our first year it was a tight game between me and Jeanne. By Monday afternoon I was winning by 5 points, but all my players had played.  Jeanne has Drew Brees (pre Saints maybe?) in the Monday night game.  Not being that into football yet, I figured I had this game lost and went to bed.  Jeanne however, stayed up to watch the game and to watch her victory.

That particular game Brees had one of his worst games, getting sacked a few times and throwing a few interceptions, and he only scored Jeanne 3 something points in fantasy football, thus gaining me another win.

The next days smack talk:
jeanne: Drew Brees is dead to me.
me: I love Drew Brees! 

Twinkle Twinkle

Mike and I had on Jeopardy like we normally do during dinner.
The clue: bla bla something this little star is something
me and mike: Twinkle?

Something Worth Praying For

Part of what annoys me about Tebow is that constant praying.  I'm not bashing his faith, but praying to win a football game is such a trivial matter.  Like throwing yet another erratic pass is going to help the world.   

I'm not really one for praying these days. I've never had a very strong faith base and religion hasn't ever been a huge guide post for me. And to be completely honest, I lost a lot of the little faith that I had when my dad was officially diagnosed. 

Dementia is the most heartbreaking thing.  Everything about it is just so hard.  Slowly loosing someone over time, putting you in a revolving, yet never ending stage of grief.  The helplessness of knowing you can't do anything.  There are drugs out there that slow down the disease, and those are wonderful.  But there's still nothing out there that can repair the damage or that would cure it.

Until soonish.  Because this super pill could be a real possibility. Something that would fix memories and heal brains.  Something to hope for, in a disease that has no hope. This pill, if possible, is worth praying for.

What's In A Name?

This weekend my sister walked at her masters graduation (woot!).  As they read off all 4 of her names, (first, middle, maiden and married) it reminded me of the conversation that I had with dr soc after he saw my full name at my graduation last year.

mike: Your middle name is Anna?
me: Yeah...
mike: Oh. I thought it was Ann.
me: Nope. It's Anna. Pretty sure of that.
mike: Yeah, yeah that is something you would know wouldn't you.

Crafty

So, get this. Flowers? Are expensive. And totally not worth the money in my opinion.  I know they matter to some people and to each their own, but me? Not so much.

I finally contacted some florist for the wedding and was told that for a wedding my size, flowers would cost somewhere between $2000 - $3000, which to me, seems ridiculous.  Like the flowers will be the detail everyone will talk about, let alone remember. (We're saving that for the grooms cake) I'm not trying to belittle anyone's work, even though that's what it sounds like.  Florist have a skill set that I don't have and I'm glad to hand over the reigns to them.  But I don't want to sink a ton of money into something that I doesn't matter to me.

I don't want to go all DIY on the wedding, but it was looking like I may have since budget was the main driving force on this part.  But with some sleuthing around on the internet and a sketch pad, I figured out what to do.  I'll still use a florist for the people flowers, but I can make the rest of the decorations.  I have the time, I have the skill set, and, most importantly, I have the internet and Martha Stewart* weddings has everything online.

*Oh she most definitely still terrifies me. But like a moth to a flame I flocked.  She's sorta like heroin, only more legal and less injecting-y.

Smart Appliances

me: Let's take the dogs for a w-a-l-k.
mike: Sure. But let me stop the dryer before we go.
me: Why?
mike: You should never run the dryer when you aren't in the house.
me: What? I've never heard that before.
mike: It can start a fire when you're not home.
me: Well, here's my question. How does the dryer know if we're home or not?
mike: --sigh--

Vaniety sizing

--Mike was trying on coats*--
me: That one fits really well on you. --I look at the size tag-- Oh, it's medium.  Do you want to try on the large to see how it fits?
mike: Sure --tries on the large-- Hmm, are the shoulders off on this one?
me: They do seem a little to wide for you. I think the medium looked better.
mike: Ok, cool, we'll go with the medium.
me: Can I just say, how much that I appreciate that you have no problems with a medium and don't have a Napoleon complex where you think that by not wearing a large you are less of a man?
mike: Uh, ok. The medium looks better, why wouldn't I get it? 
me: I'm just saying. I mean it's really just vanity sizing in male/reverse form.
mike: Vanity sizing?
me: Yeah, women buying smaller sizes because it makes you feel better. I do it. For example, I'll try on a 4 and a 2, and there may be no difference whatsoever in how they they look on me, but I will without fail buy that 2 because it is a 2 and not a 4.** So for guys it's buying a bigger size because they feel more manly in one.
mike: That's stupid.
me: I know. --Sigh-- Don't judge me.

*It's his Christmas present that he already wore. The practical side of me says he should wear it now since the point of a coat is to wear it. But the holiday side of me says he has to wait until Christmas!
** Sigh, I know. The plight of being small.

Grey or Gray? Either Way, It's Not My Favorite Color

Apparently being too terrified to get the mail and doing nothing but worrying about getting into grad school was too much for Mike to handle.  So he made me call the grad school for my admission status this morning since classes start in a month.

I was right to be worried.

Someone in the grad school office looked up my name and the reason the decision was taking so long.  And then I talked to her supervisor to explain things. I was told that a decision has been made, but there are still some questions about my gpa.  So my application has been forwarded to the department head's attention.  Who is in Dallas the rest of this week and not looking at my application. So as of this moment, my admission status is still in a "gray area."

That? Is not a yes. It's not a no either, but... it's not a yes.

This has to be based on my uc gpa. Because my uk cumulative gpa was a 2.9.  I have nothing to show for my 6 years at uc except a low gpa.  And there is nothing I can do to change that.  So now I'm just wishing and hoping and praying that cincinnati hasn't kept me from something I want once again.  Last year when I walked at my graduation, I believed I had finally triumphed over that school.  I had nothing to be embarrassed about anymore. I could hold my head high and say I earned this, and cinci couldn't take anything away from me anymore.  I should have known better.

Needless to say, I'm even more anxious now.  I've said that I would apply again and look into other programs if it didn't happen this year.  But if my gpa is the reason for their hesitancy, there's nothing I can do to change that and this is just going to keep coming up, no matter what school I apply to.  I'm still at the mercy of other people's acceptance.  

Gray sucks.

Statue of Limitations

--while we're registering--
mike: An $80 plate?
me: Yeah, it's a good "couple" gift to give.
mike: Couple gift?
me: A gift you give if you're a couple.  Too much for one person to give, but not quite big enough for it to be a group gift.
mike: oh I see. So the mixer is a group gift, but the fancy platter is something that we give.
me: Exactly.
mike: Still, $80 for a plate.
me: I know. Like the time I gave a $70 something silver platter as a wedding present and signed 2 names to the card.  And I had already spent $30 on her shower gift. Then the couple goes and divorces less than 2 years later.
mike: Ouch.
me: Yep. To be honest, I kinda want my gift back.

Puppies

mike: Brian was trying to distract Kelli from the baby talk for a while there by promising her a puppy. 
me: Ah yes! The distract the wife from the baby talk with a puppy plan.  Foolproof! Which, by the way, that won't work on me.
mike: No? No distracting you getting puppy talk?
me: Nope.
mike: You don't want a puppy?
--I shoot him a knowing look--
me: Hell no. You know Bailey was enough puppy for a lifetime.  Plus I'm way too entrenched in that baby wagon*. No matter when you ask me, puppy or baby, I'm always going to choose the baby.

--fast forward a few days later as we're discussing Christmas presents--

me: You know, when I was in early college, way before I ever actually had a dog and Bailey, I really wanted my future husband to get me a puppy for our first married Christmas.
mike: Really?
me: Yeah, I didn't know any better. Now, you know better than to get me puppy.
mike: Don't worry, I won't get one. The kids however...
me: The kids better not get me a puppy!
mike: You know eventually they're going to want one...
me: No! The kids won't want a puppy!
--mike snorts--
me: sh*t. We're going to get a puppy.

*not anytime soon though. Not because I'm not ready. It's because my wedding dress has no seam allowances whatsoever for a baby bump.

Lurk

I admit that I lurk on some of the knot message boards.
I'm looking for a seamstress in Charlotte and a florist in Lexington, so I've been using the local message boards for vendor reviews and names.  And then of course I go play in the tulle vortex and lurk on the rest of them reading about rsvp drama, and cake nightmares.  Good times yo. I do not, however, post on the message boards.  Partly because I don't care enough, but also because I don't know the lingo.

But there was one time I was tempted to comment.  A bride not familiar with Lexington asked if anyone knew anything about a particular venue.  Oh I knew something alright. I know that until a few years ago, it used to be a funeral home.

It was completely remodeled, they put on an addition and from the pictures on the website it really is very pretty.  But because I went to middle school next door to it, I know what it used to be. For a building located in the historic district, there seems to be bit of history about the facility missing from their site. (Do you blame them though?)  Knowing what I knew about the previous use, I couldn't possibly get over the icky factor of it and didn't even bring it to our table of possible venues, even though it fell within our budget.  Mike was curious* about why I wasn't researching this place more since I had scoured the internets for details for everything else and asked why. So I told him exactly why and that it was bad juju.  He needed no other explanation, agreed with me promptly, and we didn't discuss the venue further.

But just because we didn't want this venue for that particular reason, doesn't mean that I have to ruin it for someone else with my knowledge.**  So I didn't comment.  First because I'm not a commenter on these things, only a lurker.  And second, I'm not an asshole.

*this was in the very early days of wedding planning and he was genuinely curious. And didn't know any better.  He asked a question and was completely overwhelmed when I launched into a 30 minute detailed explanation of god knows what wedding related.  He's since learned that when it comes to the tulle vortex, he is just let me swirl around in there and only pull me out if I start causing some damage.

**I think she ended up booking it.  I lurked back on the message boards and she had posted an update.  Fun times for her!

Calender daze

Hold up, it's December? Where did 2011 go?

Maybe between the moving to North Carolina, exploring a new city, applying for grad school, getting a part time job, getting a dining room table, running my fifth half marathon, finishing my first full marathon, hosting thanksgiving, getting engaged,planning the wedding and registering, I must have missed a few dates here and there on the calender.  

Sheesh! If things keep going at this rate, the next thing you know it'll be time for Mike to retire!

Paper

I? Am seriously going nuts waiting to hear about my admission status from grad school. My nerves are litteraly shot to hell just waiting.
Yeah I knew I would have to wait and I have to be patient.  And school starts in just over a month.  But what really sent me over the edge into crazy-wait was when I received an email from financial aid saying I needed to update something.  I had sent in my fafsa the day before in a move to be prudent (though I really didn't want to because I'm terrified I jinxed something by doing so).  I can check my financial status by using my university id which they gave me in the email, and then find out my pin once I logged in with my university id. 

An university id! You shouldn't get one of those if you're not a student, right?  RIGHT???  I log on, get my pin, and then proceed to clink link after link to become even more confused and a babbling mess about my status.  Because while I can be found in the university directory, when I tried to see what classes were available to me, I was told in bold print I am not listed as a student for any terms. Wha? On top of that, a few days before the financial aid email, I received the graduate school newsletter in the mail.  who do they send that to?  The graduate students? Anyone who applied?  Way to tease.  

And as crazy as I'm going, (just ask mike, I'm a bundle of anxiety) I'm too terrified to call the admissions office to find out my status.  I can't handle them telling me no.  I can't handle hearing you aren't good enough. Because I have heard it before, and it traumatized me. I got stuck spinning my wheels for 3 years because I didn't get a piece of paper.  And now another piece of paper seems to be the key in deciding my fate.

I really hope that I'm completely over reacting and that it's my impatience getting the best of me.   That really is the best case senario that I'm working myself into a tizzy for nothing. I'll apply again if I have to, and I'm poking around of another (accredited) program North Carolina.  All I need is that piece of paper.  But I'm still anxious as hell all the same.

Best Acronym Ever

I'm on the knot reading etiquette message boards. And because some brides take all their time debating god knows what, they don't have time to use their words, so they abbreviate or use an acronym for every single fcking thing.

So idk wth ppl r saying.

There is however, one that cracks me up. Someone posted to the message boards asking if her wedding date was a bad date. And the general consensus was check w/the key members of who you want there, and if the date works for them to go for it. Just be sure to send out stds.

Now I don't know which std is more wedding related, or how well something like the clap travels via mail.  But I'm just going to say that if I received a std from someone I probably don't want to go to their wedding!

She Who Uses the Most Butter Wins

I won.
So my first Thanksgiving was a huge success.  Well, my first Thanksgiving hosting, not my first Thanksgiving ever.  But you know what I mean. There were 9 people total in the house, both sets of parents, each of our siblings sans their spouses, and my uncle.  Everyone had a good visit and time, everyone got along (not that I expected a brawl, but still with 9 people in your house sometimes things happen), and the dogs behaved wonderfully. Bailey especially warmed up to Mike's brother and then insisted on snuggling and draping herself all over everyone.

As for the food, with the exception of the gravy, the food turned out really well.  And the gravy wasn't bad, it just wasn't that good.  The turkey was done an hour before I expected and was the teeniest bit dry (despite the 1/2 lb of butter I stuffed under the skin and all the basting), but it looked really pretty and was a rich mahogany color as it came out of the oven.  And the turkey itself wasn't the hardest part of all the cooking .  After I stuffed the bird (sausage cornbread stuffing, yummy and southern) and get it in the oven, you sorta just wait around to do everything else.  It's when the turkey comes out of the oven that all hell breaks loose.  Not only do you need the drippings from the turkey for the gravy, almost everything else needs the oven* too. Right as everything was being put on the table to eat I reached my frazzle point, but everything made it out fine, everyone sat down, the wine was poured and we ate. 

You know what I didn't realize though? How exhausted I would be after cooking! Who would have thanks that putting on a meal for 9 people would be so tiring?  But it was worth it.  I had a really good time meal planning, cooking and hosting everyone. Everyone liked the food (or else lied very emphatically to not hurt my feelings. And if that's the case then I appreciate it!), everyone got along, and looks like Mike and I are the front runners now for the big holiday gatherings. 

Holiday success!  

*Which is why my dream kitchen has a double oven. I know the only time I would use it would be during the holidays so it's by no means practical. But, oh, the thought of having a double oven in my kitchen, be still my heart!

Where My Mind Goes

Did y'all here about that Target worker who started the petition to not open at midnight?  It's gained national attention but it's totally not going to work.  After creating all the hullabaloo, now this guy doesn't have to work black Friday at all. Which, bully for him.  Yes I'm grumbling some about having to do the same thing myself, but I figured out how to make it work for me and whatever.  I didn't care enough to stir the pot.  And on top of that, my hours changed.  The county that my store is in won't let us open until 6am, so now I go in at 5:30 am and work until 2 pm. So I can get a decent amount of sleep the night before, and have the rest of my Friday to spend with my family.  Thank you Union county!

Anyway, I first hear about the guy via the internets, like you do.  The article starts with a brief intro about the guy and why thanksgiving is important him. Last year he popped the question to his girlfriend, so this thanksgiving they were going to start planning the wedding.

My first thought: (incredulously) They got enagaged last year and they haven't planned the wedding?!?!

one mind

me: Last night in my dream I had a dream.  It was so weird.  But at some point in there, I don't know if it was the dream or the dream within the dream, I dreamed that your ex was trying to get you back.
mike: That's actually funny, because last night I dreamed that your ex was trying to get you back.
me: Whoa. We had the same dream?
mike: Guess so.
me: Cool yet very odd. In my dream your ex showed up to my parents house and claimed you had finish something with work with her.  You actually did have to finish this project so you did, but both of us knew what she was doing.  So I just stood there on the landing shooting you glares to finish up the project as fast as you could and get her out of there.
mike: Ha! Well, there's a negative 90% chance that would ever happen. So you have nothing to worry about.
me: That's good. Oh, and you have nothing to worry about from your dream either.
mike: Yeah? Your ex won't ever try to get you back?
me -snorts- No, he's too lazy!
--mike snicker-- 

Black Friday

When you have a job in retail, you accept that you will have to work on black Friday.  It's just the nature of the beast.  You deal with the crazies and crowds of shoppers for a few hours and you just do it.

I requested to work the early shift on black Friday since I have lots of family coming in for the weekend.  At the time I requested this, my store opened at 3 am.  So I figured I could be at work by 2 am, finished by 10 am at the latest, giving me the rest of the day to spend with my family.  Except now, we open at midnight. So I go to work at 11:45pm thanksgiving day, and work until 8:30 the next morning.  Yeah. 

I considered pulling an all nighter like my daap years. Staying up until I start work, then powering through the rest of my Friday along with everyone else in their right mind who slept through the night. But I know better.  Just because I have done many all nighters, doesn't mean I did any of them well.  Plus I'm 29 years old and I'm too old to be pulling that kind of college kid sh*t.  I'll be cranky and snippy if I don't sleep, and I don't want to ruin anyone's time here just because I didn't get some rest.

So now I plan to have dinner a little earlier, and split my sleep time.  I'll rest a few hours before I leave for work, and then again when I get back home.  I'll get breakfast started and then head back up to bed for a few more hours.  Yeah it's my house and I want to be the one hostessing, but in the milieu of family here are 2 moms and 3 domesticated men to take care of things.  It's the best plan for less than ideal time line.

Retail is a business and I understand that they are just trying to be competitive with each other.  And yeah, I'm going to grumble a little bit, but it's one day.  Like I said, black friday is just part of the nature of the beast.  But the beast didn't have to be a meanie either.

Mother knows best

So. It happened. I've become my mother.

• We sound the same.  People get us mixed up on the phone all the time. Mike mistook me for my mom on the phone once.  And even I couldn't tell a difference one time!  I heard a message I left on their answering machine and thought, "why did my mom leave herself a message and call herself mom?"
• I keep things I have no use for and I can't explain why. (It doesn't mater that I haven't worn my leopard print shoes that are too big in 3 years! I can't give them up!)  However, it is broken and I can't fix it, I throw it out.
• I used to leave coffee mugs in the microwave. Though once I got a really needy microwave that freaks out if you don't come back to get your stuff, I stopped doing that particular thing.  But still, classic (my) mom move.
• I worry
• I can't eat something I cook without commenting on it.  I made this too salty, there's not enough flavor, maybe next time I should add, last time it was....ect.  
• I listen to NPR all the time in the car now.  As a kid I would have killed to listen to music in the car, but now I actively listen to it. I even gave them money this year like a grown up. 
• I search for cool things to watch on PBS. I am not however, a slave to my tv like she is and know how to use my dvr.

And then, finally the piece-de-resistance, the one that made it official:

• I actively search for a shady spot in the parking lot

And this is all for right now. Just wait until I become a mom!

Lets Talk Turkey

No, really, lets talk turkey.

I'm having Thanksgiving this year.  And not just for me and Mike, I'm having thanksgiving for 9 (my parents, my uncle, Mike's parents, brother and his wife) or 10 (my sister) people total. Nine to ten people! (thank heavens our table seats 14).  I'm very excited about everyone coming in and cooking for that many people. I really am. But I'm also slightly terrified. 

I've never made a turkey before.  I've helped my mom previous thanksgivings and I've paid attention to what we were doing, but still, eep.  Those were 12 lb birds.  I was told you need 3 lbs of turkey per person, and that equals 30 lbs. Thirty!  So I did what any woman on her own having her first thanksgiving does: I begged my mom for help. (and cooking supplies. What? What else do you think we registered for?)

It sounds simple enough to roast a turkey in the oven.  Pop the turkey in the oven for some hours based on the amount of pounds, baste every now and again, let it rest a half hour before carving.  But then there are all these nuances you don't think about.  Like how big a turkey to actually get. The Joy of cooking told me 1 lb of turkey per person, my mom told me 3. Do I split the difference and say 2?  That's still a 20 lber! Do I roast breast side up or down?  Foil tent or no? Fresh or frozen turkey?  If I get a frozen turkey, I have to account for thaw time in the fridge. It will take days to thaw a 20 lb bird, and I don't have that amount of time for prime fridge space.  Do I stuff the bird with stuffing or aromatics? (stuffing). What kind of stuffing? (I'm partial to a sausage stuffing myself. Nothing says gluttony like stuffing another kind of meat into another) How about brining the bird?  When do you even do that? After it's thawed completely or during that last day of thawing? Where do you brine it? Do I even have a pot big enough to brine in the first place?

MOM!!!!!!

Dream Woman

me: Hey there's a thanksgiving cooking class this weekend as the groupon. Do you want to do it with me?
mike: Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. When is it?
me: There's one Saturday and Sunday, at 2 pm.
mike: Which of those days work better for you?
me: I'm off (work) both those days, so either or.
mike: What time was the one on Sunday?
me: 2 pm
mike: Ok. Lets d---
me: Wait, lets do the Saturday one. Cause 2 pm Sunday is football.
mike: Yes! I was just going to say that!
me: I know what's important baby.
   

Like Columbus, Only with Chocolate

I have finally discovered nutella.  Holy deliciousness batman!

Ok, I've known about nutella for a while now, I just never tried it until recently.  I had a $1 off coupon and it was super double coupon time at my grocery store (they double coupons $0.99 and under on a daily basis, but this particular week they were doubling anything up to $1.98), and it was on sale. So I figured why not?

And I figured out what all the fuss was about.  It's way yummy. I may or may not have licked the knife I used to spread it on my toast.... Now, the only thing I have to do is keep Mike from discovering it.  Cause if he does, nutella is just going to go the same way as chocolate Cheerios do in our house (strait into his tummy), and there won't be any left for me!

all the pies

me: I don't think I have an opinion one way or the other on your tux for the wedding.
mike: (dubious) Really? No opinion? You don't care what I get?
me: Not really. Well, ok. I guess there are some things that I would prefer over other options.
mike: Like what?
me: Well, I'd like for it to be black.  And I know I want vests instead of cummerbunds, and traditional ties instead of bow ties.  I don't want the guys to have tails either.  I would like the point where the jacket closes to be lower on the torso so you can see the vest and tie.  But I don't know if I care about how many buttons the tux has.
mike: Sooo..... no opinion?
me: Oh. Ok. Some opinion.
mike: That's what I thought.
me: Yeah, I know.  I may say I have no opinion, but I think we all know that I have my fingers in every bit of wedding pie there is.

Texting

me: Mom just called. She's on her way.
mike: Well, hopefully she'll be there before you have to go to work.
me: Fingers crossed. She won't be able to get a hold of me there, so she'll more than likely try call you trying to get into the house. Which, does she even have your number?
mike: I think so. I've called her before. You could text it to her just in case...
--here we both start laughing--
me: -snort-- You know my mom doesn't know how to text!
mike: Yeah, as I was saying the words I realized that that wouldn't work.

Yeah, my mom really doesn't know how to use her cell phone. Which is actually pretty funny until you need to get a hold of her.  It's actually my old cell, so she just took over the number when I switched back onto their plan. I think she's finally got in the habit of having it on her, but she still never hears it so she never answers it.  The one time she did pick up I was so surprised I thought I had the wrong number.  I never bother to leave a message because she doesn't know how to check for them, let alone the pin number to access them.  Even the out going message is the message I recorded years ago for my voicemail. Then, when texting became a valid form of communication (though I still abhor text talk and spelling and staunchly refuse to use it), for my mom to use it, I just chalked that up a lost cause.

My First Marathon

I did it! I really did it! I ran/walked 26.2 miles through Savannah, GA on November 5, 2011 . 
Holy crap I DID IT!!!!

My official time was 5:06:22, and it being my first, that makes it a personal best for me.  And I am ridiculously proud of myself.

I started out way to fast so I couldn't keep my pace for the entire race.  I was keeping a really good pace of about a 9:30 mile, but at mile 14 I knew I had to start walking.  I tried to start back up running every so often, but my legs were so tight and my feet were so tired that I could never manage more than a quarter of a mile running and never picked my pace back up. 

But I kept going.  I kept focusing on moving forward, walking long strides, and never stopping.  Because I knew if I stopped, even for a second to stretch or go to the bathroom, I wouldn't have been able to keep going.  And really, I just wanted to finish.  I think I had just passed mile 26 when i saw my sister in the crowds, running towards me and then she fell in step with me.  And it was almost too much for me, being so close and in so much pain.  But she told me I could do it.  That I would be done in 2 more minutes, and I could do anything for two more minutes.  And even though I had been telling myself over and over through the race, I can do this, I can do this, hearing someone else tell you that makes it more believable.    

In the post race glow (also known as sweat) with my finisher's medal around my neck and wrapped in my mylar blanket I was leaning on Mike to help me walk back to the hotel.  I gleefully exclaimed that now that I have done a marathon, I never have to do one again and that I can actually say I prefer to run halves.  Which is true. Training for a marathon is hard and I don't know if I can manage that every year. But then today a coworker asked me how was my trip and what was my time, and all that other race stuff.  I told her my time and that it was a personal best for me.  And then, the next thing out of my mouth was: "but I'll do better on my next one!"    

Savannah

me: Hey Lb, where's convention this yeah? Savannah?
lb: nope, Jacksonville.
me: Oh. I think I'm always hoping that it will be in Savannah.  So I'm just going to keep suggesting it on the off chance that I may be right one year.
lb: You do that.

Turns out, Savannah is too expensive for convention.  So I won't be going there for that anytime in the near future.
However: I am going to go there this weekend. Because I'm running my first marathon there at 7 am Saturday morning..
Which me luck! Epp! 

matter

Yesterday I tried to enroll in a health care plan through work, but my employee number and name didn't bring up any records.  Which is odd and I talked to HR about it since my window for enrollment is still open.  But at the time, I felt like I didn't count with them I guess, and that the last few months have been nothing to them.  Because that was an unproductive portion of my day, in a cart before the horse move, I started to fill out my fasfa just in case I start school next semester. (Hey, wouldn't it be hysterical if I receive financial aid but don't get into grad school? A fcking laugh riot I bet!), but before I could file it, there was a discrepancy between the number of dependents and members living in my house hold.  I claimed that I am single/never married, because I am, but there are 2 of us living in my household.  Which is true, it's dr soc's house and I just live there.  But I guess the government doesn't understand that an "independent student" can still be dependent on other people.  So I had to list that there was no one else in my household.  

And that for some reason, really stung.  My ego was already bruised from applying for a job earlier in the day that I know I'm not really qualified for. My employee info not coming up for health insurance made me feel like I don't belong.  And now I have to say I don't have anyone at home with me.

I just felt like I really don't matter.  And that's a depressing place to go.

Dependant

I may joke about getting used to rejection letters from jobs, but I'm never going to get used to it.  As more and more time passes between the time I recieved my degree and full time employment, I become more and more unhirable.  Yes, I have a part time job and I'm glad I have something and am making some money, but I'm still compleatly dependant on my fiance and my parents. How does that make a person feel good about themselves?

And as much as Mike tries to make me feel better about everything, he doesn't understand.  Even when he wasn't in a career, he was still in school working towards something.  He resigned a job with a horrible boss to start his shiny new teaching carreer in a shiny new city right away.  I don't begrudge him for having these good things because he's worked very hard and deserves them.  But he's not stuck in the shiny new house, in our shiny new city, continiously searching for a shiny new job to start my shiny new career, all while being at the mercy of other people's acceptance. 

But he just doesn't understand how hurtful it is to feel like that you don't matter.  The lump I get my chest as the rejection emails pile up.  To continiuosly come up empty on jobs that I am qualified for. To apply for jobs I'm only partialy qualified for, and then to not even be surprised when I am ignored. 
And even if things just snaped into place that I land a full time job, by the time I'd be on my feet I'll be married, and then dependant on my husband.  I'm never going to be a grown up.  

Costumes

This was pretty much about all of how much of a costume I could put on my dogs:

Yoho yoho! A pirates life for me!

 And this:

Angel in disguise

Momma, of course, giggled and loved her girls.  The girls, of course, hated it. The angel hated it so much that within two seconds of snapping the picture she picked a nasty fight with the pirate. 

Something tells me that dressing them up for the Christmas card is a bad idea...

Happy Halloween

--A conversation I had with my sister back in the (somewhat) early months of me and Mike dating.--

me: 4th of July weekend we're going to Michigan for his brother's wedding
amy: a holiday wedding.
me: Yep. His cousin got married new years eve last year. His family seems to like the holiday weddings.
amy: seems like it. Hey, if you guys get married what holiday you going to pick? Arbor day?
me: Halloween. It's his favorite holiday.

Well, we didn't pick Halloween, but Memorial day's a close second right?

Big person things

Mike and I are no longer in the market for a dining room set.  Cause we kinda sorta totally bought one on Friday.  After not having much luck with finding something we didn't hate at the traditional furniture stores (and dealing w/creepy sales guys), I poked around on Ikea's website to just to see if they had anything worth looking into further. There were 2 tables that each sat 6-10 who were contenders, but I know we need to see them in person before we even consider them further. Mike actually has to see something to get a feel for its' dimensions, and ikea furniture you really need to check it out since it runs on the small side since everything there is designed to fit in a 200 square foot apartment. Since I had the day off and Mike doesn't teach on Fridays, when we were out and about I asked if he was in the mood to go to the store and look. (yep, we live within less than an hour of an ikea. That could not be dangerous to our pocketbooks at all) So we did.

Turns out, one of the tables that I liked (and the cheaper one) was just too narrow for my taste. (I can't pronounce the line name since everything is Swedish. Mike solved this problem by just making up names as we walked along, and hilarity ensued) But as we're wandering around the dining room area, we see the larger version of the cheaper table. That seats 10 -14. Fourteen. For the same price as it's smaller counterpart. The design is the color we want. It's the size we need. It extends. (if the table didn't extend it wasn't even going to be considered).  The chairs are at a reasonable price...   
We look at each other, calculating things. We don't want to buy a table just to buy a table, but...  This is the first thing we've liked. At a price we like... And we do need it for this thanksgiving...  So with a few quick calls to our parents to ask if they wouldn't mind helping us out with the table for Christmas, we decided to go with it.  We arranged to have it delivered because there's no way we were going to fit anything in the car.

So now, we have a dining room table and chairs! We have big person furniture! To go in our big person house! To have big person holiday hosing duties!  And to continue our big person trend, we both kept peeking out our front windows to see if the delivery people had arrived, like little kids.  We're grown ups!

(When we opened one of the boxes, one of the table tops* was damaged.  So once that's replaced and we have everything assembled I'll*** post pictures)
* Another caveat of ikea furniture: assemble it yourself furniture and that you can't really inspect what's in the box** you're buying.
**though, only having 1 out of 12 boxes delivered having damaged merchandise is pretty good odds.
***That's probably a lie. I never take pictures in the first place, let alone post them.

State Lines

mom: Why don't you change your residency to Ohio honey?
me: Because that would mean that I actually live there.   

Of all the times I've moved across state lines, I've never changed my residency.  I lived in Ohio for 7 years total, and steadfastly held onto my Kentucky residency through that time.  Turns out, I really never wanted to live in cinci.  And then I moved back to Lexington and I didn't have to worry about changing anything on my licence.  Well, seeing as I have plans to live out the rest of my life and burden my children in North Carolina, at some point I really should become a North Carolina resident.  Plus, I need in-state tuition. 

It's really not that hard.  Once I finally got a job, I could finally establish that I live here.  So I switched to NC insurance, passed my drivers test (you know that if you make it a point to never break the law and drive drunk or buy alcohol for minors, you don't bother to learn the consequences for breaking them. So when you are asked those questions on said test you have no idea what the answer is), and finally switched my tags over.

So I'm officially a North Carolina resident now.  It feels a little anti-climatic honestly.  Twenty-nine years as a Kentuckian, and then, poof, North Carolina.  That's it?  Well, ok then. I won't give up my UK allegience and pride (I never fault anyone for cheering for thier alma mater. Even if it is the devil knows as Duke), and I still won't cheer for UNC either.  But now I can really say that the Panthers are my team!

Taking Chances

A few months ago, there were no library positions that I was qualified for of any sort close to me.  But by some magic of timing, 5 different library positions became available between 3 different systems. None of them required the MLS, and one was even full time, which is what I really, really want and need. So of course I applied.  (My library basket if pretty full at the moment.  Besides applying for those positions, I'm waiting to hear back from grad school. Don't ask me about it. I've applied and I'm waiting on pins and needles to know if I was accepted or not. The only way I feel about right now is anxious.)
The good news is that I landed an interview for one of the part time jobs and I was ecstatic. I thought the interview went really well and you can tell that I am completely qualified, and I'm passionate about the work. But in 3 days I received the thanks but no thanks email. I'm glad they let me know soon, even though it wasn't the answer I wanted.  And there was still some hope that one of the other positions might happen.

Yesterday I received and email from the full time position informing me that I had not been selected for an interview.  They appreciate my interest and encourage me to continue looking for employment with them that interests me.  Except that is the position that interests me and that I'm most qualified for.  I've interviewed with them before twice for positions that I really didn't know what I would be doing.  Obviously I didn't get them, but I was still at least qualified for an interview.

Mike keeps trying to tell me that it's not a reflection of my abilities and qualifications, and that I shouldn't take this to heart.  But try not to do that.  I am still waiting on some things, but it's hard to not get discouraged about everything.  I do have a part time job right now and I'm grateful for that.  But I'm still bummed about not getting the job I interviewed for.  But I'm even more disappointed about the full time job.  Because they didn't even give me a chance. 

Medusa-esque

--me: reading yahoo news feed--
me: Honey, did you see this cyclops shark discovery?
mike: Ye...
me: Wait. Of course you did. Of course you did.
mike: Of course I did. Why do you ask questions you know the answer too?
me: I don't know.
--I click on the article--
me: Wonder what this thing looks li -- AAHHHHHH!!!---
--insert terrified scream from seeing the ugliest thing since Medusa. I can't hit backspace fast enough--
me: WHY didn't you warn me?! That thing is terrifying!
mike: I don't know?

Coffee Maker

Never ask a non-coffee drinker to set up your coffee maker for you. I doesn't end well.
I love my fiance.  I can prove this because I drove him to the airport at 5am* this morning.  It being an early flight and me having to work late last night meant we would have to go to bed almost as soon as I got home.  And knowing that I wouldn't be awake enough to drive if I didn't have coffee in the morning, I needed to set my delay brew (one of the worlds best inventions in my opinion).  However, I didn't figure this out until right before I needed to leave for work.  So as I'm putting on my shoes about to run out the door, I asked Mike if he could set up my coffee for the morning. 

He says yes but a look of concern crosses his face.  I give him the cliff notes version: water, filter, coffee. I'll set up the timer, and the look of concern goes away.  I get home last night, set the timer, open the lid and see there is coffee in the filter and think nothing more of it.  This morning I hear the (obnoxious) beeps of my coffee maker after it's done brewing, and I start to pour it into my travel mug...and it's just cold water in the pot.  He got the water** part.  He just didn't pour it into the coffee maker...

Fortunately, there was time for me to pour the water into the proper place and brew the coffee for real.  And because my love for him trumps my caffeine addiction, I just found the whole thing silly and not annoying. But lesson learned nonetheless.

*It's the 5 am part that proves I love him. Airport pickup/drop off duties are part of duties once you have been fiance-ed, if that stage has not already been reached in your relationship.     
**An ex wanted to make a cup of coffee to stay up late (after telling me that he was stronger than me for not having a caffeine dependency the week before), so he stared at the coffee maker wondering how the coffee maker magically turned the solid coffee grinds into liquid.

Commission Hell

Mike and I are in the market for a dinning room table. Even though we're hosting Thanksgiving this year (for 9 people, maybe even 10! (my first thanksgiving and I go BIG!)), we're going to wait until after the wedding to furnish our dining room.  In other words, we're not going to get a table now just for the sake of getting a table. The table itself isn't what's all that expensive, it's all the chairs that get you. But anyway, we were in the area of a lot of furniture stores and since we had some time, we popped in a few of them to see what was available.

We didn't have much luck.  The formal dining room isn't something that my generation wants in their house now*.  So all of the dining room sets in the stores were old fashioned rococo massive ornate stuff.  Just because we want a traditional dining room doesn't mean we want traditional furniture in it.  Finding something we both like and isn't exorbitantly priced is going to be more difficult than we thought.**  

The last place we looked at was Haverty's Furniture.  I can't really tell you too much what the furniture there was like because I was too distracted by the sales guy following us around the entire store.  It was so, so creepy and awful.  Mike's actually pushing me to walk faster, and I'm about to grab his hand and run out of there.  We couldn't make snarky comments to each other, let alone even talk to each other without the guy over hearing. We made the mistake of pausing a few seconds at a table and the guy piped in with unsolicited info on the set.  We didn't even want to look anymore since all we could think about was getting the hell out of there.  So that's what we did.  And just to nail that final nail in the creepy coffin, the guy sprints ahead of us to get the door for us as we leave.

It was so awful we're not going back. Which is too bad for them because they were the first store that had furniture we didn't immediately hate.  I know these guys work on commission, but that's no excuse for the creepy! It creates such a toxic environment and the people can sense it. It's not how I want to shop. If I want your help, I'll ask for it. I don't mind working in retail myself, but I have never worked on commission and never will. 

You know the saying: have a good experience, tell 2 people. But have a bad experience, tell 10? Yeah. I'm telling everyone.

*The young pups today also don't register for fine china either. To which I say, that's fine for now, but in 10 years when you are hosting the big family gathering and have no place to seat everyone and no fancy china to serve on, you'll be wishing you had asked for that wedding china.
**Good thing Mike likes to research and will shop and shop and shop. (I told him about library school and in a day he complied a list of at least 10 online programs for me to look into) Though once he decides something, good luck trying to change his mind.

Size Matters

I get a decent amount of comments on my engagement ring from strangers.  The reason, besides it being awesome and from my dr soc, is because it's big.  Carat wise, it's not ostentatious.  But the center stone cut, the setting and my hand shape all work together to really make it a noticeable piece.  Every time someone notices my ring, and says something along the lines of  "lovely ring," "oh my goodness," or my personal favorite "wow!" (my dad!), I can't help but grin ear to ear and puff with a pride a little.  Then I tell Mike about it as soon as I get home.    
I know that the sentiment and symbolism is what matters in an engagement ring. And that I am lucky enough to even one have is nice.  But I am a jewelry kind of woman.  And I love my ring. 

But the moral of this story: Size matters.

Dust Bunnies Be Gone!

Scene: the day after we decide to buy the Dyson but the day before we actually buy it.
mike: Am I a dork for being slightly excited about getting this vacuum?
me: Yes.
--mike sighs--
me: It's ok honey. I'm excited too.

How it feels

The knot sends me promotional emails which I normally glance at, say don't drink the kool-aid and delete.  But this was a registry thing at a store I wanted to register at... So, I drank the kool-aid. But not too much.  It was SO. MUCH. FUN. 
Sometimes it's hard to not compare things about this wedding planning and the last wedding planning I did.  But not in a tit for tat sort of way.  It's more of a glance back and marvel at how wonderful this has been this time. Just how much I'm looking forward to everything with him. 

The other wedding....well, I was never this excited about it.  I had moments where I would be all yay! after I did something, Like after I booked the church, but that feeling would quickly fade.  And even though I had the date, the venues, and even a dress, something still just felt off.  I didn't google search 14 different paper vendors to find the best price for invites like I did this time.  I didn't rack my brain for the perfect bridal party gifts.  I didn't realistically think about how many place settings to ask for because I didn't realistically think about hosting the big extended family gatherings. (btw, we now need a table that will extend to seat 10-12)  I never got this far and detailed into the wedding planning before.  Not because I didn't have the time to do so.  I just didn't feel it.

So as Mike and I are traipsing down the aisles of Crate and Barrel (ok, I'm traipsing, and Mike is following and scanning whatever I hold out to him) debating the merits of a lipped or non lipped dinner plate (we went lipped. And asked for 12), I thought to myself: this is how it feels.  This is how it's supposed to feel to be engaged.  Hopeful. Excited. Deliriously happy.  And right.  It just feels right.  It's a pretty wonderful place to be.   

Domestic Bliss

As Mike and I were registering last weekend, we couldn't help but check out the $600 Dyson there. We were told: "registering is like Christmas. If you don't at least ask Santa for it, then it won't come."  Which is true...but still, we're not going to be the assholes who register for a $600 vacuum (a $280 dutch oven though, is fair game and totally on the list).

Well, then it occurs to Mike, hey, doesn't your store sell Dysons? Why don't we use my employee discount and buy it for ourselves at some point?  And then I remember that I have some coupons I could use in addition to my employee discount, so yeah, that was a much better idea.  We were going to wait for the best possible time to maximize our savings, and it turns out, this was the weekend.  And I know it's uncouth to talk about how much you spend on things, but the retail stars could not have lined up any better for this deal.  Dudes, this was just way too good a steal to not talk about. Because:

1. the vacuum was on sale. 
2. 20% with a friends and family coupon. Then:
3. 15% off that with a bounce back coupon. Then:
4. 15% off with my employee discount =

We bought 2 (seriously. One's a gift though)

We were planning on getting the vacuum Saturday.  But Mike couldn't wait that long. Seriously. He was chomping at the bit to get this vacuum.  He came home from work yesterday and was like, hey doesn't that coupon start today?  And then I said yes, it does.  Sensing his excitement, i asked, do you want to get this vacuum today?  To which he replied, well...how late are you guys open?  We ended up grabbing dinner out and then doing some major shopping, buying a few Christmas and birthday presents too. 

As soon as we got home, mike, as quick as a cricket, popped out his contacts, opened the box and started putting it together.  Then, like Christmas, we excitedly played with our new toy by vacuuming the living room and the couches last night. (It's amazing (and disgusting) how much hair was in there).
Sexiest date night ever.

Pick Your Battle

So, even though mike and I both kinda feel as if we're already married (and yes, I am fully aware of how cliche that is) I am still super duper excited about the wedding.  Ergo, I can't stop talking about it.  Mike, not as much. 

Now, I realize that the wedding is just one day and it's the marriage and our life together is what matters.  Yes, yes, that's mature and lovely.  But bubble of tulle!  Hashing out wedding day timetables is way more fun to talk about than the mundane aspects of life like who's going to pick up Sharktopus from track practice (we don't do soccer in this house).   But, anyway, the point is that at some point in the day, the chatter will turn back to the wedding.
 
mike: What are you going to talk about after the wedding?
me: (no hesitation) Babies!
mike: (scared) Babies?
me: Well, probably I'll focus a bit on getting my masters after the wedding and being a librarian. But then, after that, definitely about having babies.
mike: Babies? But, uh....babies?
me: Yep. Pick your battles man. Weddings now or babies.

See honey, the wedding is the way lesser of the scary!

Pet Cause

First: rest in peace Steve Jobs.  I'm a pc girl myself, but your innovation changed the world and you are a legacy. Second: October is breast cancer awareness month.

Breast cancer is bad. No if ands or buts about that.  But it's not the only cancer there is.  There's colon cancer, which took my grandma. There's stomach cancer, which took my other grandma. There's liver, lung, skin, ovarian, prostate, brain, ect. If it's a part of the body, it can get cancer. And they are all horrible.

But, cancer is not necessarily the death sentence it once was.  I'm not diminishing anyone's loss.  Even with the help of modern medicine and treatments, there will be those who will still loose their battle.  Their loved ones will mourn, and awareness is brought up.  But at the same time, there are those who do respond to the treatments, and can live cancer free.  At the very least, there's hope.

But, cancer isn't my pet cause anymore.  You can't cure dementia.  You can't remove the tumor or live dementia free.  You can't have the person you once knew back.  I can't tell my dad that everything will be ok after "this." I don't have the same kind, sometimes any, hope. 

It's not wrong to want to eradicate a disease. But we all have ones that strike closer to home.  And my pet cause, the one that I want cured, is a hell of a lot more important to me than walking to save a stranger's tatas.

Mayheming

When the dogs first met, they only way they knew how to interact with each other was to play.  And they played.  Running, mouthing, swatting, blur of spaz play.  Because of their size difference, we had to stop them mid-play so they wouldn't end up hurting each other.  It went on like this for a while, even after Bails and I moved to Charlotte.  We didn't dare leave them alone unsupervised, and I dubbed their play "mayheming."  But, eventually, they calmed down around each other.  So we all started to feel comfortable about not keeping the most diligent eye on them.
 
Until now. Because my dogs, my darling, spaztastic, mischievous dogs, realized that if I am in the shower, then I can't see or hear them. And more importantly (to them), I don't stop them.  But that's not the super mischievous part. The mischievous part is that they figured out the timing of everything.  My shower takes a while to heat up, so I open and close twice. One to turn on the water and to heat up, and the other to actually get clean.  They wait for that second door close before they start to mayhem about. 

Like the other day.  I get out of the shower and come downstairs to the sounds of mouthing and full on spazzing.  I see Jules leap off the love seat like superman, right onto Bailey's head. Bailey then tosses her head, and Jules, like a bucking bronco.  Which is then followed by a spaztastic chase around the couch. The moment they see me, the freeze, and then slink into their crates when I point to them.
Ah, good times. Honestly, I was most amused by them figuring out the timing of that second shower door than I was mad at them.

But oh boy, could we be in trouble! Ahh, good times.

Color Deal

We're going to start registering in about 1 week.  Color me excited!
We actually started a list of things we need/want/like a few months ago.  One of us would say oh, we need such-and-such, and the other would say, we can register for that.  And being aware of my ability for only remembering two things at a time, we started a running list.

The first thing on there is the ubiquitous Kitchen-Aid mixer found on every registry.  Though I don't know if we actually need to do so because doesn't it just automatically come on every registry known to woman?  You just pick the color you want when the time comes. 

I'm sure it's no surprise what color I want.  I'm sure it's no surprise that my color choice was met with some opposition from Mike.  He knows me pretty well. And knows that if something comes in pink, I want it. And as tolerant as he is of my pink-lust, he doesn't want pink everything. Which fair enough.  
So, we made a deal. I really really really, want that pink mixer.  I have my heart set on that color.  But, that's the only thing I have my heart set on. So I do get my pink mixer! But the blender, Cuisinart and everything else the gets a color choice, we (ok, I)  won't select pink.   Nope. That stuff, like the Le Crueset dutch oven that I've recently become obsessed with, that stuff, we'll ask for in blue. 

Match

I love color.  Ergo, I love fiesta ware.  I was all set to pick out the colors I wanted and have a rainbow of dinnerware.  And Mike is pretty easy going and lets me roll with (most) kitchen stuff, since I'm the one who does most of the cooking.  He didn't really know what fiestaware was exactly, so he was cool with it. 

Until we stopped in a store and I showed it to him.  As I'm mentally selecting the pieces I want from the array of products and giddily adding them to the registry, Mike notices that there's a lot of colors to choose from.

mike: So, what color did you want to get?
me: Um, color? Just one? 'Cause I wanted to get the scarlet, tangerine, sunflower, cobalt, plum, shamrock, the black, and maybe the brown.
mike: All of those?
me: Yeah...
mike (slowly): So, they wouldn't match?
me (quickly): They match! They're all the same shape and brand.
mike: But, you would put, say, the yellow plate and a red bowl together? Or, we would have 4 different plate colors on the table?
me (excitedly): Yeah!
mike: But...
me: Ok, so they don't "match" exactly in color.  More coordinate.
mike: but they won't match.
me: Well, no....not that way.
--beat--
:sigh: I just lost you on the fiestaware didn't I?
mike: Yeah...
me: Boo!

Simple

Dogs are such simple creatures.  I don't mean simple as in dumb.  Though, lets be honest, Bailey has some real bonehead moments.  But I still love her, at both her dumb and smart moments.  But what I mean by simple, is how uncomplicated things are for them.

I say this because sometimes, I look at my dogs and I'm amazed at the simplicity of their life. All they want is for us to feed them (plus all the cheese and peanut butter in the house), and a safe place for them to go. And for that, they give me affection and companionship.

a cuddle is all we ask for momma! and cheese. we LOVE cheese

Pretty even trade if you ask me!

Logic

I look young.  I'm used to peoples' initial shock, but most people don't care that much and move on to other more important things.  Other people, it blows thier 'effing mind.  So they keep harping on how young I look.  And that's when I tend to get a little annoyed and/or snarky.
Like I was to one of my coworkers. He sits across for me during a break and opens with:

dude: So, I'm, like, still trying to figure out how you're 29.
me: I was born in 1982. That's how.

Not Typical, But Not Bad

So, my mom may be an un-mother of the bride type.  But she's not a bad mother of the bride. She's redoing parts of their house for the wedding, which is awesome. And, even thought she's not "assisting in any planning I may need," I don't need much help anyway.  And it's even better that way, because she's not trying to influence, commandeer or take over anything. So I get exactly what I want.
So, she's actually a pretty awesome mother of the bride.  Cool.

Mother of the Bride

"Your main responsibility as the mother of the bride is to assist your daughter and future son in law in all of the planning and details."
My mother...not so much.  My mother, is the most un-mother-of-the-bride I have ever encountered.  She doesn't want to plan anything.  Granted, I've got almost everything covered and I really don't need much help.  But that's not the point. I was babbling about some of the details to her and it went in one ear and out the other.  It's not that she's not happy for us, but she just isn't paying attention.

I think she just wants to be told when and where to show up.  She's not even dress shopping. And I'm pretty sure that for a fleeting second, she seriously wondered if she could wear the same dress she wore for my sister's wedding.
 
Hey Amy, was she like this for you?

Noisy

I've mentioned that Jules is gassy, yes?  And that she seems to not notice, react, or care about the noise, the smell or human reactions either yes?

Well, it finally happened.  Jules farted loud enough that even she was startled.

She was squirming around, grunting and trying to burrow under a blanket on the couch, and she lets one. Typical Jules behavior.  But this time, she actually stopped, mid squirm, and looked around for the source of the noise!  Of course, the noise at that particular moment was me, braying like a donkey at her reaction.

What? I have no shame. And if I wasn't gassy, then I wouldnt't be your Jules!

Mean Something

I knocked something loose in my engagement ring at work the other day, so yesterday we stopped by the jewelers to get it fixed and look at wedding bands.  (It was something fun and happy to do after looking at care facilities for my dad. Another sad blog for another day.)  Since I have a marquise cut, a skilled/experienced jeweler has to work on my ring and not just some lay person (who works with diamonds!) in the back. So once again I had to once again hand over my beloved shiny and wait for it to come back.  This is what I get for wanting wear my ring all the time.

Well, anyway, since we were going to go to the jewelers, we decided to look for our wedding bands while we were there.  Which, squeee!  I'm sure it's no surprise that I'm excited about that, with the wedding practically planed and all, but still. It's the our rings part, that makes it meaningful. I knew it probably wouldn't be that hard to find something for me, since we have the engagement ring to start from. Sometimes engagement rings even come with a matching wedding band. Which it did, so it was really easy for me.  But for Mike's ring, we didn't really have a physical starting point.

It is Mike's wedding ring, so it really is his choice as to what he wants.  But that didn't stop me from putting in my own 2 (or 8, whatever) cents worth.  Fortunately, we have similar tastes and liked a lot of the same things.  After he tried on a few different band widths, metals, and slightly different subtle designs, we found one we liked.  The only question now was what metal to go with, white gold or palladium.

I for one, had no idea what the difference is.  So I asked, and turns out palladium is an element on the periodic table right next to platinum (it was not one of the 70 I was supposed have memorized for chem 107, so you bet your ass I didn't learn that). So it's almost chemically the same as platinum, won't change colors or need to be re-dipped in a few years, and it's super durable.  It just happens to be worthless.  So as the jeweler is in the back figuring our the price difference between gold and palladium, Mike and I are debating which metal he wants.  They look the same to us, but if palladium was significantly less money, then it would be more practical going the cheaper (but worthless) route.   
And even though Mike tends to be much more practical about money than I am, (see: I want a volvo and he keeps saying no) this was one case that he was leaning towards spending a little extra.  Because his wedding band symbolically means a lot, he wants the ring to have at least some worth.  (I know, awww!)  But turns out, for the ring Mike's getting, the prices are the same between metals.  So, white gold and meaningful it is!

But Then We Wouldn't Get Quiche

This year, I'm in 3 different fantasy football leagues.  I know, right?  I don't play sports with balls or teams and here I am now with three different teams.  It's crazy.  The two new ones this year are in leagues with Mike, but my original ladies only league is in it's 5th year and still going strong.

There are only two rules that have been in place since the beginning.  One: all women. And 2: no asking the boyfriend/husband for help. We've never traded, we can remember some of our guys from years past, but rarely do we remember if they were actually any good or not, and our picking "strategy," is sometimes based on critical factors such as hotness levels and names. My first year I picked Trent Green as a backup QB solely because I think he's soooo good looking.* I didn't even know (care) what team he played for at the time (and still don't).    

Since fantasy football is such an ingrained part of football culture now, many bars/restaurants offer special deals to groups that have their your draft there.  However, one thing we've always had at our live drafts, is brunch.  Seriously.  One year everyone seemed to bring some sort of bread, another was fruit-type things, and another was egg/quiche dishes.  The topic of moving the draft location to a restaurant was broached last year, but Jeanne voiced what we were all thinking: But then we wouldn't get quiche.

This is the first year we didn't do an in person draft though. There's so many schedules to work with and not all of us live close, so it's actually pretty amazing that we have been able to coordinate an in-person the years before. And while we still did a live draft online, it just wasn't the same.  Mainly because it was a Tuesday night, Mike made pizza for dinner, and the draft was done in a little over an hour.  It was just funny how the part we missed the most was the brunch.

*My fiance looks a little like Trent Green.  It works for both of us. He loves football so he doesn't mind me having a few** football crushes (too much).
** Aaron Rodgers received the coveted football husband spot.  Boyfriends are: Cam Newton, DeAngelo Williams, (Panther love), Ray Rice if he keeps putting up awesome numbers, and that Deion Sanders kid circa the 1990's.

Never Forget

I'm not going to post an introspective where were you 10 years ago post.  I don't need to watch and listen to all the tributes and memorial services today either. I'm just going to quote Jen Lancaster's tweet since I think she expressed my sentiment perfectly:

You don't need to remind me to remember because I will never forget. 

Watch the princess bride or I'll divorce you

Watch the Princess Bride or I'll divorce you. Replace "any Disney movie" for Princess bride and you have my life.

Last night:  
me (sprawling on the couch): Ooooh the Lion King in theaters again! In 3d!
mike: you know, I don't think I've ever seen the Lion King.
--here I bolt upright to a sitting position, my eyes widen and I and gasp in horror--
me: WHAT??
mike: Well I know of this part.
--Here he mimics the famous Rafiki holding Simba cub to the Sahara screen shot.--
Still being in complete shock over his announcement, I do not find his attempt at charades humorous, nor does it justify his Lion King viewing lack.
me: Everybody knows that part! What do you mean you haven't ever seen the Lion King?!
mike: I just haven't seen it.
me: How is that even possible? Everybody has seen the Lion King!
mike: Hey, that's not true. Think of when it came out, I was too old to see Disney movies in theaters.
me: That is not true. I saw it in theaters. You are never to old to see Disney movies in theaters.
mike: You're a girl
me: That's no matter.  This is unacceptable. It is a very good thing that it is coming to theaters, because we are most definitely going to go see it now.
mike: Well, if that's what you want...
me: Of course. God, I still cannot believe you haven't seen the Lion King.
mike: HA! I just got out of Step Up 4!
me: Worth it.

Note: I'm sure some other terrible sea creature movie will come out around the same time as Step up 4ever does.  And even one doesn't, that's what I have my girlfriends for. 

Shark Night

So. My fiance loves sharks. And if you've been to a movie theater in the past few months and/or watched any half hour of shark week, you were probably aware that a movie called Shark Night 3d was coming.  It opened this this weekend.  I'm sure it's no surprise that Mike was super excited about this movie. And I'm sure it's no surprise that our date night tonight was dinner and Shark Night 3D.

It was bad.  And not in that campy syfy movie way that knows it's so bad that it's good way.  Bad creepy bad.  But it had it's moments of hilarity and absurdness too.  In fairness, I may have liked the movie experience a little better if the teenager behind me hadn't kicked my seat 5 times, and if she had kept her voice down. I'm all for making snarky comments during a movie, just keep them between you and the person next to you, not the whole theater.  She was at least chastised enough when I turned around and hissed at her to "please stop kicking," that she said sorry.  And then when she slipped or something and kicked it the last time right before the movie ended I heard her say "sh*t!" 

Mike enjoyed the movie though so there's that.  And now, he owes me a dancing movie, so there's that again.  And Step Up 4ever should come out in 2012.  Yep. There's that! 

Mom car

Mike and I have been talking about replacing his car in a few years. I have this tendency to plan ahead as much as I can (see: wedding planning), even though I've only had Cam* for less than a year, since we were talking about Mike's car, I started thinking about what kind of mom** car I want.

I decided I want a Subaru Outback because my friend had one, and they are very safe cars.  My mom car first and foremost, has to be safe (which is why my friend got that car in the first place).  But a new Subaru is on the more expensive side and probably out of our price range that we, ok, Mike, wants to spend.  So he keeps trying to tell me that the Subaru won't happen, and I conveniently keep "forgetting" that.  Then it turns out, that Mike's old boss from hell just got a new Subaru.  And because I do listen, once we learned that info I immediately crossed that brand off the list.

kathy: E got a Subaru.
mike: Oh, crap...
me: Honey, I don't want a Subaru anymore.
mike: Phew
me: Oh! We should get a Lexus instead!
mike: WHAT?

I was totally kidding!  I don't actually want a Lexus. Now I want a Volvo.  Because I still need a new mom car.  Though apparently, fancy safe German engineering is "expensive" as well.  It being a safe import and all.

But here's a great twist to the car story: Mike's dad just got a sweet new car and he's giving Mike his old one, which is only a few years old.  So now we don't have to replace Mike's car in a few years, which is a huge relief.  Not to mention so generous on my future father-in-law's part (and MiL too)! 

So now that we don't have to save for Mike's new car, now we can save for my Volvo!

*Cam is what I named my Corolla. It's short for Camry, since that is what I kept thinking I drove for the first month of having the car.   It is not short for Cameron, like the rookie quarterback of the my Carolina Panthers. (my poor, poor Panthers). 
**Have I mentioned that I know Mike will be such a good daddy? 'Cause he totally will be.***
***Think my sucking up will help me get a Volvo?  Maybe?  

Something Old, Something New

me: Hmmm, I want to wear the chinese jewelry. But I don't think it will go with my dress.
mike: Uh, ok.
me: It just feels wrong to even be thinking about maybe not wearing it.
mike: Uh. Kay
me: But, I bet pearls would work.  I can probably wear my mom's.
mike: Uh, sure.
me: Yeah, I'll try that. And that can be my something borrowed.
mike: Borrowed?
me: You know, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Mom's pearls can be my borrowed.
mike: Just borrowed?
me: Well mom certainly isn't going to give them to me!   

Hover craft

Today as I'm leaving for work (yay work!) I drove past the school bus stop on the corner of my street.  There was a mom waiting in her car across the street, while her kid waited at the stop.  I've heard of parents who do this, but I've never actually seen it in real life. 
I don't have kids right now so clearly I know how to parent and can say I won't be a hover parent.  But I can see the bus stop from my front window. So when the time comes for DC and SP to ride the school bus, I can at least hover from the comforts of my home and with my coffee. At least I've got that plan all worked out.

What I also don't get though, is if you are going to hover, then why don't you they just take the kid strait to school?  I know quite often that school isn't really on the way so this isn't an option at times.  But to me it feels like a waste of time to just wait there.

I took the bus to school, unwatched, in middle and high school.  Don't get me wrong, I tried to get out of it every chance I had, and once I was a junior, I was a snot and refused to take the bus.  But I also walked to elementary school since the school was in my neighborhood.  I walked (and later waited) in the snow, in the rain, in the freezing cold and in the blistering heat, along with the other neighborhood kids. We didn't get a badge of honor and we didn't expect any accolades for it either.  We had to walk, it was stupid not.     

Plus, getting ride to school from my parents, was impossible (they also never pulled us out for dentist or doctor's appointments either).  We would walk to school no matter what.  I'm serious, they never gave us a ride.  You think I'm just over exaggerating for this story's sake?  Well, here's this: When I was in 4th grade I played the cello, which was, yes, bigger than me.  It was too big for me to carry back and forth to school.  So on orchestra days, my mom would give the cello a ride to school and not me!

Save the date!

As of now, we've sent/given 96 of these out:

Major snaps to my photographer!  Am I right? (of course I am)

No turning back now! That's ok, we can't wait!