Bending the Truth

Racing (Or, the One in Which I Brag)

2011-09-17T09:18:00.000-07:00

My coworkers at last year's race. I clearly didn't get the memo about taking off my jacket for the photo.

This morning was one of my favorite days of the year - Race for the Cure in Tulsa.

I wish I had pictures to share, but I don't. Still, it's worth mentioning with or without photographic proof that I was there.

Two years ago on this day, I was keyed up and nervous, because I was about to run my first-ever 5K. It was a pretty big milestone at the time. I had started running a few months before, and the first time I ran, I literally wanted to pass out after a mile on the treadmill. My goal in the race was simply to run the whole thing without walking, which I achieved.

After that, each race I ran, I set a new distance goal. I did a 10K, a 15K, and by November of last year, I was able to run my first half marathon. I'll tell you - there are a lot of blood, sweat and tears that go into training like that. Well, not really much blood or tears, but there was a helluva lot of sweat. Seriously. The bulk of the training for that race is in the middle of the summer. We have to get up to run at 5:45 a.m., just to ensure no one dies of heat stroke on our long Saturday runs. And you know I must love it if I'm willing to get up at 5:30 on a Saturday and drive somewhere to run.

Anyway, I digress. Race for the Cure is a great race. This year it moved downtown, which was FANTASTIC. It's always been by ORU, and that's great and all, but I'm pretty sure I almost fell asleep both times I ran down there. I mean, it was almost an out-and-back course that stayed on Riverside Drive. Pretty-ish, but you stare at a Cherokee Casino for about 2/3rds of the race. Awesome. On this course, we ran right by the BOK Center, through the downtown area, and around some historic buildings. Not that I was really looking at them. Mostly, I was focused on the 55-year old man in grey in front of me, trying like hell to make sure he didn't beat me across the finish line. I wasn't about to let that happen again. (At least it's not like the 6-year old that beat me two years before. Embarrassing.)

The first year I ran, I crossed the finish line at 31:42, which is a really great time for a first race. Or even a third race. Or 15th race. Whatever. I think it's pretty decent.

But I'm pretty sure this year I set a new personal record. The time on the clock was right around 26:30 when I crossed, which means I'm a little under that for chip time. Did you read that? 26:30. That's UNDER 27 minutes, which is my previous personal record. It means I was running at a smooth 8:40 mile through the whole race.

It also means I've been bitten by the speed bug. After the half marathon this November, my next goal will be to start improving my 5K time. I'd like to see a chip time of 24:00 or less by the time I hit my 30th year.

Race me?

What the What?

2011-09-16T19:57:00.000-07:00

So, for about eleventy-one years (or, like...two), I've been annoyed with the Blogger interface. I mean, honestly. When I upload photos, I have to do it in reverse order that I want them to appear, because they ALL go to the top of the page, and I have to painstakingly drag each one down bit by bit through the post, since it doesn't auto-scroll, and the window was soooo tiny. Still, I admit that I am too lazy to work in HTML or find a new WYSIWYG editor. I mean, Blogger is here, and it makes my life easy because it's all Google, right? So I was ready to suffer the consequences.

And then....well hello there new interface. Look how lovely and simple you are! Look how your area for type takes up more than 1/16th of the page! And how simple the picture uploader became? Awesome. It mad it so easy to put a blurry picture of the Mister sewing a button onto his pants in 2008 right in the middle of this post. The first time.

I don't know about you, but I have just one thing to say about this shake-up:

It's. About. Damn. Time.

Belaboring Labor Day Weekend

2011-09-10T08:17:00.000-07:00

First off, a disclaimer: I am not at this time pregnant, nor do I expect to be anytime soon.

That said, once we have kids, there is something I'm going to dearly miss -- the ability to pick up and go somewhere with only 2 days warning.Last week, on Wednesday, I suddenly thought, "Hm. It's Labor Day Weekend, and we have no plans. We should go somewhere." I messaged the Mister, and within 12 hours, I had a hotel booked in Saint Louis for the weekend, and we had both gotten permission from our bosses to take Friday off. Sometimes spontaneity is really nice.

So, Friday morning-ish, we headed to Saint Louis, which is a 6-hour drive away. We began by going up historic Route 66, because really, who doesn't want to see a giant blue whale? I love that spot because it makes me think of a time when people were much less worried about lawsuits, and much more interested in having as much fun as possible. The Blue Whale is part of what used to be a swimming hole through the 60s and 70s. It was shut down in the early 80s, I believe. And although they maintain the whale, there are rotting corpses of other water activities that litter the pond, including what I assume used to be a boat, and a couple of docks that have clearly not been touched since the day the park closed for swimming.

Blue Whales can be under construction, too. It doesn't lessen the Mister's excitement.

Anyway, we headed onward and upward, getting onto 44 in Vinita and heading toward St. Louis. We arrived around 6:00 and checked into the hotel. There was a bit of a heart attack on my part, because I discovered that I accidentally booked our dates for the following weekend. I suppose that's part of the risk when you do things in a rush. But the staff at the Renaissance Grand Hotel was so accommodating. Though my snafu clearly was a hassle, they never made me feel dumb, and just took the 10 minutes they needed to make all the switches and get us put up in a room. I couldn't have been more grateful for their kindness. I'll definitely be recommending the hotel for future visits, because in addition to their kindness, the room was well-kept, the hotel was beautiful and it was located in the perfect spot.

While in Saint Louis, we basically got our fill of all the sights we could - The Arch, Forest Park, the (FREE!) Zoo, City Museum (Greg had his mind blown over and over; I love that place), the Botanical Gardens, the Loop, the Anheuser Busch Brewery, and most of downtown.

I would like to say that I'm a giant, but really, no. That elevator is truly that small.

Some highlights include:

The Mister has owned a shirt that says "Rooster Cafe, Saint Louis" for about 2 years. He bought it at Old Navy in Tulsa, and always gets comments on it. ("Rooster Cafe? Have you been there? Is it really good or something.) So we couldn't help ourselves. We looked up Rooster Cafe in St. Louis, and low and behold, there IS a Rooster restaurant. It's not at the same address as on the t-shirt (which is clearly fake), but the stylization is so similar it's eerie. We actually ended up meeting the owner and he had HIS mind blown about it.

I mean, really. A coincidence? Both with art deco stylizing? Too weird.

Rooster = Delicious crepes and the greatest bloody mary menu I've ever seen.

On the Loop, there's a great restaurant called Pi that I would highly recommend. Of course it's pizza. It's called Pi. Great beer selection, friendly bartender, and excellent pizza. The most hilarious part is that the specially-brewed Schlafly beer for the restaurant costs $3.14. That made me laugh and the nerd in me rejoiced at their cheekiness.

The City Museum, which should basically be renamed "The Greatest Playground Ever" entertained us for a good long while. We don't have kids, so we got some strange looks when we decided to climb into small caves, and join the hundreds of children crawling through ceiling passages, but it never mattered to us. And PS - the 10-story slide is scary, but so worth the fear.I mean - look at this. You could literally crawl through the ceiling right about where I was standing.

This place is truly nuts. In the best way.

10 stories of sheer terror

St. Louis was a great weekend trip. I'd go back in a heartbeat. I feel like there's plenty more we could do, especially if we had some kids to take along.

This is What I Do

2011-08-30T20:19:00.000-07:00

From reading other blogs, I’m starting to learn that some day-to-day activities are worth writing about. I find it interesting knowing what people are doing each day. And I know looking back that my own life will be interesting. So, here, in no particular order, is what I’ve been up to:

I’m yet again training for a half marathon. The Mister and I have been doing it together this year, which has been nice. Each Saturday morning, we get up at the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m. to meet a training group put together by RunnersWorld Tulsa by 5:45. I feel really lucky that we have such a great organization here in Tulsa. They put together routes, water stops, find group leaders for pace groups and give us weekly encouragement through email. This week will be 9 miles – a distance PR for the Mister. Saturday’s route isn’t exciting like some of our routes that have taken us through downtown Tulsa and around some of the most beautiful historic neighborhoods, but it will be a welcome rest. It’s a down-and-back on Riverparks trail, which is mostly flat, and very easy. We’ve been running hills every week for what seems like forever. By the time of the race, I’ll feel grateful, but right now I’m just annoyed at how hard it is.

I’m thisclose to starting my thesis research. Right now I’m going back and forth with my adviser on my prospectus for my committee members. I give it to them today (I hope) and meet with my committee in full for the first time on September 9. That’s a pretty big deal, as it will give me their complete input on my research before I finalize IRB applications and submit for review. With any luck, after this meeting, I’ll be able to submit my applications by September 15, and be ready to begin my research by October 3. Exciting. Terrifying. This is the life of a graduate student.

Work is becoming more responsibility. So far this year, I’ve been to Kansas City twice, Phoenix, and there are plans for another trip to Kansas City and possibly Dallas as well. Somehow, I’ve avoided going to our corporate offices in Chicago so far. Although, I’m hoping at some point to get up that direction. Maybe it’ll coincide with a weekend, and I can make a mini-vacay out of it. Who am I kidding, though? They’ll send me up on a Tuesday night, I’ll have to stay in Zion (which has been described as “the armpit” of the state by many of my coworkers), and they’ll pack me so tightly with meetings and dinners that I’ll be lucky to see the inside of my hotel room for more than 6 hours. For sleep. But really, getting to do any travel is pretty exciting, so I’m not complaining too much.

Home has been pretty calm lately. Greg accidentally flushed one of my hair product bottles down the toilet (don’t ask how – he CLAIMS it was an accident), and now we’re pretty sure the toilet is down for the count. During the process of trying to fix it, however, we discovered that if you take the toilet in the backyard and fill the tank and bowl, you can flush it just like in the house. And it sounds EXACTLY the same. Perhaps it’s sad that this fascinates me, but I live an exciting life, so there you go. I’m crossing my fingers that by the end of September we’ll have a new toilet in the bathroom and a new planter in the backyard to go with our “bathroom gardening” theme. We might have to paint the toilet blue, though.

A Novel Idea

2011-08-22T19:07:00.000-07:00

About three years ago, I decided to do NaNoWriMo. I had an idea worth writing about (I thought) for the first time in my life. Something that was novel-length, at least. So I wrote. I participated, and tried to get to my 50,000 words. I didn't quite make it, topping out at 30,000. I got to what I thought was the end of my novel, but it didn't sit right with me. So, I left it for about a year and didn't touch it.

I returned a year later, and decided on a new ending for my novel. Unfortunately, the new ending only made the novel shorter and even less satisfying. I was losing ground quickly, so again I boxed the novel up and walked away.

Then, about two months ago, I began thinking of my novel one more time. And this time, rather than begin writing, I decided to read. I went to Amazon and found a few books I had wanted on the topic my novel covers. I bought the books, and sat down to read them. I found myself absorbing the first book at record pace, as far as nonfiction goes, anyway. I was underlining passages, making notes in the margins like, "This would make sense!" or "Add this aspect in." At some point, I grabbed a piece of notebook paper to use as a bookmark, and soon found that I had filled an entire side of the paper in tiny scrawl of different things I wanted to add to my novel.

There are three points that have plagued me since I started this thing - The title, the main character's name and the ending. Last night, I came to a conclusion on two of the three, with only the character's name left to decide. It was kind of surreal, though, as I sat and read a passage in my research book and suddenly saw my novel's title in plain print. Like it was waiting for me all along.

With any luck by the end of this year, I will have a novel finished, a thesis completed, and maybe a few more things accomplished, too. What a year it's been.

A Semester Ends, and Life Begins

2011-05-09T14:47:00.000-07:00

On Thursday, I submitted my final paper for the semester. It felt so good to let that last thing go off into the ether of the interwebs and declare myself done for the semester. Unfortunately, I had to celebrate by going to Kansas City for work, and there wasn’t any time to play around in the Power and Light district. Still, it’s made the short list of places I want to return to with the Mister. I’m already imagining a weekend getaway in our near future.

I feel like I’m closing in on an important milestone in my life. I have less than a year before I’ll finish all the requirements for my master’s program. This summer I’ll spend some time finalizing the structure of the research I want to do, and this fall I’ll spend half the semester conducting the research and then I’ll set down to analyzing and writing the actual paper. A year ago, the thought of writing this thing sounded like a ridiculous dream. But now that I’m coming upon it, I’m starting to feel more confident about it. The craziest part? When I’m finished with my thesis and I go to defend it in front of my professors, I will be the expert in the room. Me – an expert. That’s just nuts.

School tends to take up a large amount of my time during the semester. I find myself spending more evenings than I want attached to a book or an article, attempting to hurriedly read for school, complete the next project, do the next discussion post. I miss out on evenings with my Mister, good times with friends and more than one glass of wine as I attempt to make something better of myself. Make a librarian of myself.

But, for the next month, I’m going to pretend that school doesn’t really exist. That I’m being paid to read Margaret Atwood and Jasper Fford. That someone is judging me on how well I play Lego Indiana Jones with the Mister. That baking is the only thing keeping me alive. (Cake balls, here I come!) I might even throw in some organizing and cleaning so that the Mister will think I’m some sort of WonderWife. It will be an epic month off.

Happily (Or, The One In Which I Become a Hopeless Romantic)

2011-04-30T11:00:00.000-07:00

I got up at 3:45 in the morning yesterday to watch two strangers get married. Well, strangers to me. They weren't strangers to each other. At least I hope, after 8 years together, they would feel they know one another pretty well. But that's beside the point.

When my alarm went off, I was out of bed quickly. Of course, I set myself up for success – my slippers by the bed, coffee ready to brew without additional help, a bathrobe within reach, and the TV already set to the right channel, so within five minutes I could be on the couch with a hot cup of coffee and the coverage on the TV.

I was riveted through the entire wedding. The look on her face when she walked down the aisle, the way her hand shook in her father's as she paraded through 2,000 people. Her measured smile as she reached her fiance at the end of that harrowing stroll. Everything was gut-wrenchingly perfect. It felt restrained, like reading a Bronte novel. My heart was in my throat for this couple, who had no choice but to put this strangely solemn yet happy moment on international display.

The fervor of my interest surprised even me. It's unlike me to get up quite that early for anything but exercise or traveling, but I was happy to do it. Does that mean I'm a romantic? I certainly hope it does. I hope it means that my entire life I'll be searching out passion, watching fairytales unfold before my eyes, and always believing that they will turn into happy endings, despite the world's woes.

Today I'm asleep on my feet. But yesterday, I was in love with the world all day, and I sent every positive thought I could spare toward this new couple. Because if their fairytale truly is a fairytale, I think even the most cynical among us might be able to believe in the possibility of our own happily ever afters.

Disco Steve

2011-04-08T14:51:00.001-07:00

So, I saw this chart on Mashable (I’m a nerd at heart – deal with it), and while I understand what it’s trying to get across about the affect of Napster on music sales, I couldn’t help but notice this little piece of it:

Further proof that disco? They were tired of it even at the time. I can't say I'm surprised.

Happy Weekend!

George In My Jungle

2011-03-31T07:21:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a dream. About George Clooney.

It was odd – I was in this huge room where a judge was presiding over some strange proceedings that involved a ballroom full of people. Old Georgie was in a suit, doing his best old-world impression. We were having a lovely time. It was all very PG-rated, much like an old Hepburn movie. There was dancing, there were stolen glances, there was a dazzling smile or two (his, not mine).

Despite the fact that there was a very thriller-film twist somewhere in the middle of it all (I believe I was being chased by a man who wanted to kill me, and who had already killed the judge), it was a lovely dream. It wasn’t until I was at breakfast this morning that I noticed my wedding ring wasn’t on my finger.

I found it placed carefully on my bedside table, stacked neatly atop my engagement ring. This is the second time this has happened – that I’ve taken off my wedding set in the middle of the night. Last time I made it to work before I noticed it was missing.

George and I must have been having a better time than I had realized.

A Story a Day

2011-03-23T15:11:00.001-07:00

This is a beautiful quote, from Karey M. I’m not sure if I’m a good writer. People tell me I am, but some days it doesn’t feel like it.

But I figure I have at least two or three good stories a day. Some are true. Some are not. Like the day that I wanted to write about the life of a house, a hundred-year life filled with families. Or my accidental eyebrow waxing. (Maybe that's one for tomorrow?)

Surely I have one story a day to tell? At least, I know I have one today: I have never worked at Johnny Carino’s.

This doesn’t seem like a wild statement. But today I told one of my coworkers this, much to her surprise. For some reason, a rumor has run around my workplace that I got my job because I was a waitress at Johnny Carino’s. There, I supposedly served the former CEO, who liked me so much that he hired me as his second assistant on the spot.

The truth is much less romantic. I saw a shiny, new building in the city and thought, “I bet they’re hiring.” I Googled them. I looked at their job page. I applied. Simple as that.

I have been working here for three and a half years. It took that long to find out that I had a wild back story that no one dared repeat. I’m still trying to decide if I’ve dashed their dreams or doubled them by setting the story straight. Maybe I wasn’t a dazzling waitress, but isn’t it more impressive that I didn’t have to dazzle anyone before my interview? That I just walked in one day and got the job?

Maybe. Maybe not. But this I know is true: If I had waited on the CEO, I would have probably spilled an entire tray of drinks on him, like I did when I was 19 and worked at Olive Garden for a minute and a half. And there’s nothing dazzling about that.

The One in Which I Return to Recap Life

2011-01-20T08:26:00.000-08:00

I’ve been poked by a friend to update more. And seeing that I just started school for the semester, it feels like a good time to start posting. This semester I’m taking an IT class. (which will involve me learning things I already know. For the second time.) I will also begin working on my thesis. It’s a scary thought, imagining writing this behemoth of a document. Having to support my assertions with research is even scarier. But I seem to have a good adviser.

Our lives at home have been very quiet. I spent the winter break reading just about everything I could. I finished the Mellinium Trilogy by Steig Larsson. It was good, but by no means a life-changing book. I read a few books that I had missed in childhood, like The Giver. I got a Kindle for Christmas from The Mister and immediately downloaded every Jane Austen book I could find for free. I think my next task will be to read Mansfield Park, which I’ve never tried. I also got all the Harry Potter books, which is just good practice. There are days when all I want is to escape, and nothing takes me away further than reading about life at Hogwarts. Though it really makes me want to go to Universal to see the Harry Potter world they’ve constructed.

Despite wanting to take a vacation this spring, we’ve postponed it. Instead, The Mister will be spending a couple of weeks at the camp in my previous post, helping out and basically escaping from the real world. I’m going to join him up there for a few days and help around the office. Maybe I’ll get out on a canoe, swim in the lake, and spend some time around a campfire, too. We shall see.

Onward and upward in 2011, I suppose. There’s no telling what this year will bring…

Notes on Camp

2010-11-29T11:20:00.000-08:00

Over labor day weekend, we took a trip to Minnesota for a camp reunion. I wrote up a post and then never put it up. Now is as good a time as any, I think...

I spent this weekend being still. Now and again, I would reach for my phone, or a book, or my computer, and I would stop myself. I was out in the beautiful country of Minnesota, on a lake, amidst the woods, with a cool breeze and great friends. There was no reason to occupy myself with other things. So, I sat. I watched sailboats on the lake. I paid attention to the way the grass crinkled under my feet. I looked at the stars. And I was still.

We spent this weekend at (in my humble opinion) the best boy’s camp in the nation – Camp Chippewa. Of course, I’m biased, because my Mister worked there for several years, and attended the camp himself. But it’s a real camp. They canoe, they kayak, they learn archery and riflery and camping skills. They play soccer and softball. They learn to swim, and they get involved in absurd camp games like the Counselor Hunt and “Scatterball” (which is a frightening free-for-all version of Dodgeball in which there are no teams and people are constantly attacking one another). The camp is run by an incredible group of people with the truest intentions – to bring up boys in a world where they can live in nature for four weeks and absolutely love it. They make real friends they keep for life, and they get away from the world for a few weeks.

It was at this camp where I truly fell in love with my Mister. We were up there for a summer three years ago (well, I was at a neighboring girl’s camp), and I learned that not only was he intelligent and interesting, he could also put an arrow into the center of a target that looked to be a bazillion feet away, and he could lead a group of boys into the wilderness for 11 days without batting an eye. We wrote letters to one another that summer, and he kept journals on his canoe trips to bring home to me. By the end of the summer, I knew I would marry him, and only three months later, we were engaged. It was so nice to return, and to stand on the same spot where I looked at him and thought to myself for the first time, “I can’t wait to have children with that man.”

Further Proof That We Have no Children

2010-11-26T13:38:00.000-08:00

I'm here. This is no guarantee that I will be here again tomorrow. Or the day after that. But today, I had some things to share. Because two weeks ago, we bought this:

A white couch. From Ikea. Where you can buy a dozen white couches for the price of one. But you have to sign a form saying you don't have children, and don't plan to in the near future, because chocolate fingers on this couch? Probably not a good idea. Still, it's washable.

Also, I went from this:

To this:

Clearly, 27 years as a blond is long enough.

And one final thing. Our kitchen? Which looked like this:

Is now this:

The countertop is also Ikea. God bless those Scandinavians.

I may be back. With more updates. Like the fact that I've now been married for two years, and the embargo on talking about babies has ended (but that doesn't mean I'm having babies yet). I ran a half marathon, but almost missed it because I am sometimes dumb. I convinced my husband to get an iPhone in an underhanded way. We have an iPad and love it to death. I'm nearing the end of my second full year in grad school. I changed jobs (within the same company). I guess there are a lot of things to say, so let's just hope I have the energy to say them all. Soon.

Abra-CADABRA!

2010-09-15T13:42:00.000-07:00

I've been MIA. I can't promise I'm back, but I've been told I should try to post more often. Here's me trying. Plus, I couldn't resist posting this interaction I had this morning, with a random employee who happened to pass by my desk and had a question for no one in particular.

Random employee: Who would know something about The Bridgeway Foundation? (Editor’s note: This is a research foundation, started from within our own company.)
My internal dialogue: Something? Like what it is? Or like which of the employees is getting laid? You’re going to have to be more specific about something.
Me: Well, what’s your question?
Random employee: Well, I got a check in the mail for them. And it looks like it’s been around and around, because no one knows what to do with it.
My internal dialogue: What do you mean you don’t know what to do with it? It’s a check. For them. Mail it to them. Is this really that hard for everyone to figure out?
Me: Well, we could put it in the mail to them.
Random employee: How do I do that? Where are they?
My internal dialogue: Are. You. Kidding. It is 2010, and you don’t know how to look up an address using that incredible, all-knowing thing they know the internet?
Me: Well, I don’t know, but I bet I can look it up online. (I then proceed to look up the address for her, by Googling “Bridgeway Foundation.” I didn't even break a sweat.)
My internal dialogue: Yes, let me take a moment out of my day to take care of this task for you. I wasn't doing anything else. Not at all. In fact, I spend most of my day, waiting for people to come by and ask me to do things for them that they can't, for some unknown reason, figure out for themselves.
Me: Let me just write this down for you...
Random employee: Oh. Well, it’s just that a patient accidentally sent it to us…
My internal dialogue: …and therefore it’s not your job. I know. So I suppose that makes it mine?

I handed her the address, written on a post-it, and went on about my day. For my next trick, I shall dial a phone number and get someone to talk to me from ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE COUNTRY.

I know. I'm amazing.

Yo-Ho-Ho and a Box of Crap

2010-07-26T14:48:00.000-07:00

When you inherit a new job, you also inherit all the crap that the person before you left. The previous owner of my job had been in it for more than ten years, leaving a lot of time for her to gather crap of all kinds. Here are some highlights from what I have found in what I’m calling “The Great Purge of 2010.” (P.S. I wonder how many bulimic girls will be highly disappointed when Google turns this up as they try to find sound dieting advice…)

1. A training manual for Windows ’95. I jokingly offered it back to the lady (who now works in a different department), and she said, “Yeah, I might want to hold on to that. It could be useful.” She was NOT joking.
2. Internal maintenance receipts for changed light bulbs in a building we are no longer in. From 2004.
3. A kite.
4. Enough ribbon to fill a 2x2 box.
5. Pictures of her dog and backyard.
6. Twelve wicker baskets (for what?)
7. Six boxes of bubbles.
8. Approximately 4,217 empty three-ring binders
9. Photocopies in triplicate of every invoice since 2006
10. Floppy disks
11. A sparkling curtain for a doorway, a-la any 13-year old's room
12. Precisely 2500 envelopes. Which will take us around 13 years to use.

This would be why they were running out of storage space.

Hello, I'm the Librarian

2010-06-18T13:21:00.000-07:00

I'd love to help you, however, if I put down these books, I violate the dress code. Sorry!

From here.

Oh me, oh my, Olioboard

2010-06-10T09:50:00.000-07:00

My creation on Olioboard

I should really stop subscribing to design blogs, because I get sucked into so much time-wasting. The newest? Olioboard, found via Decor8. I spent a good half hour putting the above board together - inspiration for the living room I want to have one of these days. Right now we're focusing on remodeling the kitchen, but the living room is next.

What a great way to get an idea of how items will work together -- I always have the worst time in the store deciding if this or that vase is going to work with the room I have in mind. The only thing I would change is the chaise lounge - the one I chose is just a place holder. I have a specific piece of furniture in mind -- one that I haven't found just yet. But I will. Oh, I will....

The Young Gun Vs. Technology

2010-06-09T07:48:00.000-07:00

Our CEO, The Young Gun (see more about him here, or here, or here) and technology must be mortal enemies or something. Or, The Young Gun is just hopelessly inept when it comes to computers. His Crackberry he’s mastered, but a laptop? Not so much. A few examples of this:

Exhibit A.) Our office has experienced some indoor rain in the last year -- unfortunate byproducts of heavy construction. Rain on desks, on monitors, on keyboards but – knock on wood – not on anyone’s computer. A few months ago, it rained in the Young Gun’s office. Very little of his office got wet, and it mostly just ran down the walls. But one of the leaks was dangerously close to his computer docking station and printer. The morning after these leaks happened, The Young Gun arrived at work shortly after I did and breezed into his office. About five minutes later, he breezed back out.

“My computer station must have gotten fried by the rain," he said. "We’ll need to order a new a new docking station; it doesn’t work anymore. And my printer won’t work either. I’ll work in the board room today while it’s sorted out.” Concerned, I went in to investigate. There, below his desk, I saw the plug beneath his desk looking as if it might not be plugged in all the way. I crouched down, shoved it into the plug and his printer and docking station breathed to life. I went into the board room, where he hadn’t even had time to turn on his computer.

“I plugged in your docking station and printer. They should be working fine now.” I’m pretty sure I was smirking when I said it. What can I say? I’m a smartass.

Exhibit B.) Shortly after the first incident, we had another leak. The Young Gun announced that now his printer really wasn’t working and wouldn’t print. I kept forgetting to take a look at it or call IT to do so, but one day, I finally went in while he was at a meeting. I opened a document and clicked “print.” The dialog box showed me that a printer across the office (Printer1) was selected, rather than The Young Gun’s Printer on his desk (TYG1). So, I selected TYG1 and hit print. Like magic, paper came out with exactly the same image I was seeing on the screen!! So, just being proactive, I went into The Young Gun’s printer controls and made TYG1 the default printer for all print jobs. Then, when The Young Gun returned from his meeting, I smiled and said, “Your printer is fixed.”
“How?” he asked.
“Magic,” I said.

Sometimes it’s best not to reveal your methods.

Exhibit C.) About a year ago, The Young Gun’s wireless mouse stopped working. He brought it out to me, handing me the USB and mouse and asked me to get him a new one. When he returned, I gave him his mouse back.

“It works now!”

“How?” he asked.

“I put new batteries in.”

His face lit up with surprise - “It has batteries??”

He is endlessly entertaining. Endlessly.

And for those keeping score at home, that would be:

Technology - 3

Young Gun - 0

Short and Sweet

2010-06-09T07:37:00.000-07:00

Want.

That is all.

Mental Meanderings

2010-06-09T07:31:00.000-07:00

I like to think that I’m fairly focused. I catch on quickly. I pay attention to the important things. Often, I am asked to take meeting minutes or notes, because I am perceived this way.

But the reality? The reality is that I often find my mind wandering. And then I’ll hear something like this:

“Yes, I agree that it is really important we do that. Vitally so. In fact, why don’t we send out a communication. Jennifer? Could you draft it?”

To which I agree without hesitation, not having a single clue what was just being discussed. I get around this by approaching the requester after the meeting and saying, “So, the communication you want me to draft. What do you want in it, and who do you want it to go to?” Problem (usually) solved.

Today I was in a meeting, and again found my mind wandering. I tried so hard to pay attention, but my mind wandered. So, out of curiosity, I just jotted down what it wandered to. Here, in no particular order, are the things I daydreamed about while in a 30-minute meeting:

1. What I plan on wearing tomorrow (black pencil skirt, white blouse, sexy red heels that I never wear) – inspired by the enviable shoes on my coworkers.
2. Twilight – I considered what vampires would think of the marketing meeting I was in.
3. The fact that I need to clean my refrigerator and do laundry
4. Christian Laboutin shoes with the red soles
5. Becoming a full-time author and traveling the country in my own Laboutins
6. What I was going to have for lunch
7. A possible sci-fi story in which everyone in a meeting begins hearing a high-pitched sound, but each just assumes its only them, and they all gradually go deaf, but no one wants to admit it, so they just kept talking, no one hearing a word anyone else says. Not unlike most meetings I go to, anyway.
8. When the Twilight movie is coming out

Strangely, when I began keeping track of these things, my mind stopped wandering, and I couldn't get away from listening to what was being said. Oh, the irony.

Randomosity - Paris

2010-05-29T09:42:00.000-07:00

A few more random pictures from our trip:

At the president's house - we pretended this was Sarkozy and Carla Bruni going out for a night on the town. Who knows - it could have been. They did have a police escort...

We walked up those stairs. Twice, I think. That would be why I didn't gain any weight, even though I ate my way through every baguette I saw.

The librarian in me couldn't pass up this photo op.

I like to consider myself an adventurous eater. So, we ordered escargot. And I ate them! They really weren't bad.

I look unsure, but anything soaked in oil and spices makes me happy. Including snails.

When we were first dating, Greg and I did a night photography shoot around our campus. He pulled out his skills again with a couple of pictures of the Eiffel Tower. I love how bright it seems. It's really what it feels like when you're there.

No, THIS is what it feels like.

We got the best cappuccino I've ever had near Hotel de Ville. It was so good after a long day of walking. I miss the coffee so incredibly...

Except for the whole having arms thing, I think I look a lot like Venus...

I bet you didn't know Russel Crowe had a bust in the Louvre, did you? ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!

Sorry. I just couldn't resist.

Seeing the Sights 2

2010-05-27T09:11:00.001-07:00

I promise I only have a couple of posts left of pictures. And then we will get back to your regularly scheduled programming.

First up, the Arc de Triomphe...

We approached it from afar, and Greg got some cool night shots of it. I love the Champs Élysées (which I have trouble spelling) at night. It's so busy, so bright, and so beautiful.

More night pictures as we approached. This one reminds me of a Parisian "Abby Road."

When we got there, we decided to pay the 9 euro to walk up to the top. This was the staircase, and we weren't even all the way at the bottom. I think we'd already walked up a couple of revolutions by this time. I was almost dizzy at the end.

I am amazed at how well this telephoto picture turned out. That would be the Sacre Coeur off in the distance.

If this one was a bit sharper, I'd have it blown up and put it in our house. Unfortunately, it only looks good at about this size. Whatever. It's still an awesome picture.

Ah, Notre Dame. Greg and I enjoyed the church quite a bit. And don't worry, we stepped on Point Zero, just to make sure we'd one day return to Paris. Maybe for our 50th anniversary?

The infamous rose window. Greg has about fifty pictures of this - he was trying to get one that came out clear. We really could have used a tripod on this trip.

Did I mention that I hate picture after picture of people standing demurely in front of a famous site? I didn't? Hm....

Les Invalides. This wasn't a place we'd planned on going, but it turned out to be quite interesting. I really wish we had more time there, but we saw Napoleon's tomb, which was our main reason for going. What a neat place.

Do I look pensive here? Greg's favorite sculptor is Rodin, so naturally, we went to the Rodin museum. It was really quite beautiful (and cold). Rodin was a very expressive artist, and I was fascinated by his work. Moreso than I thought I'd be.

Some more random pictures to come tomorrow...

Seeing the Sights 1

2010-05-27T08:27:00.000-07:00

Believe me, I know it's been a while. I've missed writing far more than you've missed reading, though, I'm sure.

Time to pick up where I left off - pictures of our trip. Which is now two months ago. Time flies.

Yes, we were "those" people. Segway touring our way through Paris. But I'll tell you - it's probably the best money we spent there. Four hours on a private tour, and the ability to play on Segways to boot? Nerdy perfection.

Oh, wait - THIS is nerdy perfection.

There was a group of us, so at least we weren't nerdy alone. Six couples in total - two from Ireland, two from Canada and us crazy Americans.

On to the Louvre! Greg was out of his mind excited about the Louvre, being an art major in college and all. I was excited, too, but my excitement started to wane around the fourth hour of exploring the endless halls. Greg's did not. I have about twenty pictures like this of him - standing in front of a priceless work of art, looking almost as proud as if he'd painted it himself.

You see that tiny thing back there? Mona Lisa. This is as close as we got. Too many Asian tourists, and not enough interest on our part. I'd already seen it, and Greg didn't care.

I am a fan of Winged Victory of Samonthrace, however, and I spent quite a bit of time examining it from every angle. I wonder, though, if it weren't at the top of such a beautiful entryway, if it would have the same effect. I can't say. But I loved it anyway, armless, headless and all.

See? The stairs, the majesty? It really does take your breath away when you see it. And makeup, too, apparently. I never once looked cute while we were on vacation. But I'm okay with that.

I was excited about this place - Napoleon's apartment. It is so... decadent. It was one of the few things I remembered from my first trip to the Louvre when I was 15.

This is one final picture of our Louvre trip. I love the reflection in the pyramid - how you can see the building in the background. Like a ghost.

More pictures coming tomorrow...

First Up - The Apartment

2010-04-02T10:35:00.000-07:00

I found our apartment after reading about Haven in Paris on A Cup of Jo. I was enamoured. Impressed. I longed to stay in our own apartment in Paris. And so, with my heart in my mouth (and assuming it would be far out of our price range), I emailed them and discussed the tiny studio apartment in Montmartre. A few days later, I was sending them the check for our week's rent. It was sublime. It felt like home as soon as we arrived (and the Greeter left us to our own devices). Without further ado, a few photos (as in, a zillion).

The apartment came equipped with a phone with FREE (!!) long distance to any phone in the US.

I called my parents as soon as we arrived. And everyone else I knew. Ever.

I also couldn't go five minutes without updating my Facebook status.

Don't judge. I finally had REAL bragging rights about something.

"Just arrived at our APARTMENT in Paris. C'est magnifique!"

Greg and I both were fascinated by the view. The brochure said nothing about it (that I recall), but we loved it.

Maybe a graveyard would seem creepy to some, but it felt magical and perfect for the two of us.

A closer view of some of the graves.

This was the view out of our window. You can see Sacre Coeur there in the far distance.

I could see it from the shower, too, not that I showered without closing the curtains... often.

There were little touches around the apartment that I just loved.

Like this watercolor(?) of our tiny little street - Pilleux - hanging in the kitchen.

See? This is me on the same street!

On the back of the murphy bed hung two rustic chairs.

I wondered where they came from and how I could get some of my own. I loved that little touch.

Extra seating, but so fitting to the style of the apartment, and without taking up any extra room.

Another little touch - a watercolor of the apartment's layout.

The perfect size for two American tourists.

The top of the kitchen cabinet was lined with French Cookery.

On our last morning, I had a buffet breakfast of cheeses, sausages, and what I like to call "Cardboard Bread."

I demolished an entire wheel of camembert on my own.

The apartment also came stocked with coffee, sugar, oil, spices - most of the pantry staples

you need to make a few fresh ingredients into a meal. I loved this jar of sugar cubes

we used for our coffee in the mornings. It made me want a jar of sugar cubes at home.

What kind of library student would I be if I didn't read, even on my trip to Paris?

I brought along Wuthering Heights, which I had never read, and really enjoyed it.

It seemed so fitting to be reading a gothic book while I looked out on a graveyard.

But, if I hadn't brought any books, the apartment came fully stocked.

Have I mentioned how much I loved this place?

But none of this would have been as fun as it was without this face. Smiling and handing me coffee, telling me he loved me and sharing in one of the most fantastic vacations of my entire life.
(I'm pretty sure right after I snapped this photo he said, "Please take this now - it's really hot."
Burning his fingers for my photo-op - that's love right there.)

Back and Better than Ever?

2010-04-02T10:28:00.000-07:00

Picture by me!

I’m back.

But of course, you probably knew that.

And see, I have an excuse for no telling you a week ago, when I first arrived. Because I found out over the course of the last week that I am a paper-writing fool. I had two papers due while I was gone, and two more due tomorrow. So, over the last week, I’ve been a book-reading, paper-writing fool. I’ve barely had time to look at our pictures myself, much less post any of them for others to see. They’re not even on the Facebook account yet (which is really crazy).

I’ve been thinking about the blog, though, and contemplating when I’d have time to post my pictures. And a synopsis of the trip. So, here is the synopsis of the trip:

Can I please go back to Paris?

I hope that covers it.

Pictures to come, ASAP.

P.S. I should also mention that Haven in Paris? My new favorite people. They called and emailed me after my post to tell me not to worry my pretty little head one moment about the arrival snafu. It was all okay, and just a miscommunication. I breathed a huge sigh of relief that day, and went on my way, smiling all the way through the metro ride to Musee d’Orsay. (Which, if you could smell the guy next to me, is saying a LOT.) I’d recommend their services anytime you want to stay and feel like, no matter where you are, you’re home. Our greeter was kind, and very accommodating, and besides that one sticky moment when I was jet-lagged and angry, it was a great trip.

Almost Au Revoir

2010-03-15T02:23:00.000-07:00

Today is our last full day in Paris. (Insert pouty face here.) We've been able to do nearly everything we've set out to do. Here, in no particular order are the things we've seen/done/enjoyed:

6 hours at the Louvre, including visits to the "Big 3" - Winged Victory of Samenthrace, Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa (which was surrounded by tiny asian tourists with HUGE cameras)
4-hour Segway tour of Paris, which - despite the dork factor - I would totally recommend
Ate a nutella crepe in the Tuleries
Stayed out late enough to miss the last metro of the night, and took a cab ride back with a cabby who greeted us by saying, "Yes we can! Obama!"
Saw the Musee d'Orsay, and declared my new favorite old painter as Manet
Visited Napoleon's tomb (if you aren't sure about his ego, take a gander of that thing -- holy egotism, batman!)
Saw the Eiffel Tower, in the daytime and at night
Went to the top of the Arc de Triomphe
Walked through Notre Dame
Drank French wine at every dinner
Saw a mime on the street
Ate baguette, escargot, steak tartare and lots of cheese
Successfully navigated my way home without a map
Walked through Montmartre and experienced the circus it is

On the agenda for today:

Find macaroons
Shop
Visit the Holocaust Memorial
Have fallafel
Let it sink in that tomorrow we leave for Spain

I'm terribly sad to leave Paris. We've had such a lovely time here, and have enjoyed ourselves every moment. My feet have the blisters and calluses to prove it. Our time in Spain will be completely opposite, spent mostly eating, drinking and not seeing sights. The city we're going to is not a big cultural hotspot, but will be mostly about partying and enjoying ourselves.

So, au revoir, Paris. I will do my best to love you as much as I can today.

Edit: I forgot to mention that I got a very kind email from the Haven in Paris team, assuring me that my late arrival wouldn't be charged. They wanted to ensure I had an excellent time in Paris, not to start it with such a stressful day. I was pleasantly surprised by their concern, as I had resigned myself to paying the fee, fair or not. Luckily, it looks like our greeter may have just been a bit grumpy (and I can't totally blame her, having to wait for so long for us), and now we've learned from the experience. Needless to say, next time I come to Paris, we will do what we can to have this apartment again!

Our First Day in Paris

2010-03-11T02:43:00.001-08:00

We've arrived! I'm sitting this morning, drinking a cup of coffee, and looking out the huge windows of our Haven in Paris apartment at the Montmartre Cemetary. It should feel morbid, looking out at a sea of what can only be described as glorified dead bodies, but it doesn't. It's beautiful, and I can see the dome of Sacre Coeur poking out over the top of the hill.

We had a very long day yesterday. Our flight arrived almost two hours late, making us two hours late to the apartment, and our greeter was very upset by this. I thought this was the reason I gave them my flight information in the first place - so they could be aware if we had a late arrival. As our plane was landing, I was supposed to be at the apartment. When I called, she informed me that "of course you will be charged for this," something that irked me greatly. How could I have called from the air to let them know I would be landing late? I did wait until we got our baggage, and settled into a taxi cab before I did call her, which was apparently also "unacceptable." And when we ended up in the wrong place and had to take the metro the last few miles, she was quite upset. We landed two hours late, and arrived two hours late to the apartment. Seems logical to me, but to her, not so much.

Ah, well. What are you going to do? I'll just cross my fingers that the penalty isn't the entire $350 deposit I put down for damages. If it is, I might raise a stink.

We're getting ready to head to the Louvre for a day of art. Greg is excited, and I am, too. Just like looking out over the cemetary, art museums are like looking out at a sea of dead artists. I love to sit and watch people look at art in museums. They make for great character sketches (in writing, not in art; I could never draw). I'm going to finish my coffee and head off to the museum with my Mister, who is probably agitated that I'm even writing this right now.

A bientot!

Au Revoir! (Or, The One In Which I Brag About Being a World Traveler)

2010-03-08T13:28:00.001-08:00

The talented work of littlebrownpen. I envy.

Tomorrow at this time, I will be on the first leg of our trip to Paris.

Can I just repeat that?

Tomorrow at this time, I WILL BE ON MY WAY TO PARIS!

Ahem. Excuse me. I feel better now.

I’m halfway packed, my to-do list only seems to be growing, and I’m wrapping things up at work. I’m envisioning giant wheels of cheese and beautiful shoes in my future. I’m imagining fine art, people watching and seeing friends for the first time in four years. I’m thrilled. I’m ecstatic. I’m apoplectic with glee.

And upon my return, I will be joining Weight Watchers and started a real workout regimen again. Because 7 days in Paris = approximately 15 pounds on my rear end. And thighs.

I’m not sure I’ll be posting much while I’m gone, but I’ll certainly try. I may be too involved in my fabulous life to do anything other than drink wine and eat bread, however.

Did I mention the 15 pounds I plan to gain?

À bientot, mes amis!

A Proud Mrs. of a Talented Mr.

2010-03-05T15:01:00.000-08:00

I married a very talented man. He transformed a huge exhibit at the aquarium he works in. It went from dark, uninteresting hallway, to gorgeous, exciting exhibit space in a matter of months. He drew, designed, sanded, painted, wrote and imagined his little heart out, and now he's all over the local news, sharing his talent. I couldn't be more proud. To see some more pictures go here.

I'm a proud wifey.

Fashion Week? Be still, my heart.

2010-03-02T09:15:00.000-08:00

womensmafia.com/tapisserie-jdsavoye.com

I just found out that the mister and I will be landing in Paris on the last day of Paris Fashion Week. I'm trying to decide if we should attempt to walk near the Tuileries to try to catch a glimpse of the Sartorialist in action, or maybe try to take some Sartorialist-style photos of my own. We'll have just stepped off a plane at 8:30 that morning, after jumping forward 7 hours, and going through 14 hours of travel. I'm not sure we'll be in the mood, but we'll just have to see what it's like. Hopping on the metro to check things out certainly doesn't sound hard, especially if I get to see some high fashion in action. As in, see people walking out of the shows, wearing clothes that I would only dream of owning. But we'll see. It may be that the only thing we have energy for is a good meal and a little wandering.

Do you see the resemblance?

2010-03-01T12:37:00.000-08:00

Real spain:

Muncho Chip my friend thought looked like Spain:

I call bull.

The Looming Tower (d'Eiffel)

2010-03-01T09:51:00.001-08:00

Today, I am freaking out a little. Why am I freaking out a little? Because in 8 days, at this time, I will be frantically running around my house, trying to remember everything we could possibly forget to pack for our nearly 2-week trip to Europe. I will undoubtedly forget something important, or think I need more than I do, worry that I have overpacked, and fear that somehow, the airport will not let us in.

So, in no particular order, today I am making a list of things I will have to do in the next week. If someone could hire me a personal assistant for the next 7 days, I would appreciate it immensely.

1. Stop our mail, so that I don’t have to rely on anyone to pick it up.
2. Figure out what post office I need to go to stop said mail and also where to pick it up when we get back.
3. Make copies of all of our important documents: passports, social security cards, drivers licenses, etc. and pack said copies in a safe place for the trip.
4. Buy a money belt and feel retarded that I’m buying a money belt.
5. Write four papers for class, to get ahead on my work while I’m gone. I’m not sure when I’ll have time for this one.
6. Run a 5K that I signed up for on Saturday. I’m not sure what I’m thinking on that one; I’m out of shape and have no time.
7. Get travel insurance.
8. Find my electric converter or buy a new one. Probably the second, as I have no idea where to begin looking for my converter.
9. Clean every nook and cranny of my house so that it will look nice for our return. After which it will immediately become a mess again.
10. Pack up Tonks for her 2-week stay with her grandparents (food, dog toys, dog bed, etc). They’re even installing a doggy door for their “grand-dog” this week, since she’s so used to having one at our house. If they do this for the dog, I’m beginning to wonder what lengths they’ll go to for our kids when we have them…
11. Ask the sister-in-law to come check on our house a few times, invite her to use our laundry and lounge on our couch.
12. Make hotel arrangements for the night before our flight home.
13. Set up international calling on my cell phone and figure out how to turn data roaming off while we’re there so that we don’t end up owning $500 for calls.
14. Write up an itinerary to send to loved ones and friends so they know how to contact us while we’re away.
15. Pack.
16. Wrap up anything pressing at work and make others aware what they’ll be covering for me while I’m out.
17. Find a day bag to use while we run around Europe – something light but big enough to carry bottled water, maps, phone, a few snacks and other necessities.
18. Make a list of restaurants, museums and sights that are MUST SEE, Want to See, and Might-see-if-we-end-up-with-extra-time.
19. Create a loose budget and transfer money into bank accounts to cover that budget.
20. Make a list of people I should buy gifts for.
21. Find something to carry wine back in, so I can bring some of France home with me.
22. Pack all medications that might be needed including allergy meds, birth control (no Paris babies for us!), and some magic pills for the Mister, to keep his minor lactose intolerance in check while we ingest as much cheese as possible.
I could probably go on and on. But I’ll stop here, as you’ve probably gotten the idea and stopped caring around item #7.

This is going to be a very busy week.

Icky-Sicky - Tricky, Tricky

2010-02-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

What started last Sunday with a sore throat and general achy-ness has spent all week camping out in my body. It threw in dizziness and congestion for good measure, and kept up the sore throat until this morning.

Today I finally sound like I’ve felt all week. But today, I feel better. The good part is that it’s proof – “Look! I really AM sick!” I’ve been going home from work in mid-afternoon, exhausted, spent hours upon hours laying on my couch in a nearly comatose state, watching episodes of Lost and trying to get up the energy to do more than that. The illness has worn out its welcome, and this week, I am ready to take back my freedom.

I will start by making meatloaf and mashed potatoes tonight for dinner. I’ve had the Pioneer Woman’s recipe in mind since early last week; my body is craving comfort food. I might also start my laundry, and do some homework. It will be the most productive day I’ve had in over a week.

I’m still tired, but it’s a different kind of tired. It’s a tired that can be overcome, unlike the tired of last week, which was an all-consuming, can’t move an inch kind of tired.

There are only two weeks left until we leave for Europe, on a whirlwind tour of Paris and Valencia, and each day I get more excited, and more scared. I’m thrilled we’re doing it, but it’s such a scary adventure, not knowing if my French will get us through it without being thoroughly ripped off. Zut alors!

WANT

2010-02-18T08:34:00.001-08:00

This shirt would be perfect for my trip to France next month. (They're a very stripey kind of people.)

Too bad it's WAY out of my price range. Silly Anthro.

Via Bliss.

A Brief Update on Life

2010-02-18T08:30:00.001-08:00

It has been a busy few weeks. But I don’t need to tell you that.

I went skiing at Copper Mountain with the family. It was fun, but at times a little strained. I was so happy each day to get to the mountain, to feel the wind on my face, to feel my legs burning from the exercise, to feel the warm slowly leak out of my fingers. If I could live near a mountain, I’d be on it every weekend, blasting my way through the snow. Alas, I live in Oklahoma.

On the last day of the trip, I got a call from my mother, which she began by saying, “This is a bad call.”

Turns out, my grandmother died. It wasn’t unexpected, as she’s been in and out of the hospital practically every month for the last year or so. My parents have spent a lot of time visiting her and my grandfather recently, as they’ve been in a nursing home and have needed all the cheering that they could get. But even when something is expected, it’s still not easy, and I was sad to see my Grandmother's passing. My father is one step closer to being the oldest in his family, and I know that has to be a bit daunting.

My grandmother was a depression-era kind of woman. She raised five kids on a small budget, made her gravy with water, could sew anything from scratch, and insisted when I got the flu at her house once that it was just “homesickness.” But she loved her grandkids, and I still have the last gift she ever got for me on her own – a silly bracelet with charms all over it. It’s not my style, but I wear it anyway, knowing she picked it out. She knew I loved jewelry, and she did her best. I didn’t expect to get very emotional at the funeral, because I haven’t seen much of my grandparents over the last few years, but I found myself sitting in the pew, thinking about all the great times we had at their house. Thanksgivings were always my favorite. I realized how much I missed being a little kid, staying with my grandparents. Even though they weren’t the spoiling type, they still loved us in their own way.

Since then I’ve been sick, and the Mister tried to give my sicky self the sweetest valentines he could, even if it was overshadowed by the funeral and the family. I’m still pretty exhausted, but coming out of it. And now it’s time to start spending more time with my books. The next month is going to be crazy, and I’m not sure I’m ready. But I’ve got to be. So wish me luck.

Snow Day

2010-01-30T05:55:00.000-08:00

In winter, Oklahoma is usually lucky to get a dusting of snow and one ice storm that leaves half our cities without power and the power companies scramble to get people back online. This winter, though, not only did we get a white Christmas (which I’m not sure has happened since I was a very little girl), we also spent the last two days being bombarded by snow and ice. It is gorgeous outside, and I am sitting in my little window seat, watching the world outside.

The only cars passing on the nearby arterial road are SUVs and trucks, and I watch as they fishtail their way through. The equipment rental company that makes its home two doors down from us is open, of course. The workmen would be shamed and their man-card revoked if they weren’t able to conquer a little snow and ice to make it to work in their 4x4s, Fords, Dodges or what have you. Although, on days like this, I can’t imagine who would be going to rent a ladder or a cherry picker.

Needless to say, my trip to Dallas is probably cancelled (I haven’t heard from the MIL since a few days ago), and I have to say that I’m relieved. Not because I didn’t want to go, but because, well, I am a WRECK in any other weather than perfect dry roads. Seriously. White knuckles, strained back, tension headaches. I don’t deal well with rain or snow. So, I’m mentally planning my day – cleaning, homework, reading, and some hot chocolate.

Snow day!

A List (or The One in Which I am Random)

2010-01-26T08:46:00.000-08:00

A list of things you ought to know:

1. It’s Tuesday.

2. The milk I poured on my cereal this morning was chunky. I didn’t notice. I proceeded to microwave it (shut it – that’s how I eat my Grape Nuts), and when I pulled it out, it was practically yogurt consistency. That is, until I stirred it and discovered the greenish liquid at the bottom. Ugh.

3. I have started school. This means that last night I was laying in the guest bedroom reading about Management (capital M), until I fell asleep with my eyes open. It only took 40 minutes.

4. This weekend I am driving to Dallas with my mother-in-law. A five-hour drive. This would be scary if not for a few things: a) I love my mother-in-law, and she will probably do most of the talking, so that I can sit and listen, II) we are taking her new car, which I haven’t gotten to drive or play around in yet, so I’ll be thoroughly entertained, and trois) the trip terminates in Dallas, where I will get to hang with her cousins and go to a sweet baby shower for twins. I’m slightly obsessed with one of her cousins, after starting to read her blog before I was married. She has become a mini-celebrity for me, and although I’ve met her twice, I’m excited to see her again. Maybe this time I’ll actually talk to her. Maybe.

5. I’ve run 7 miles in the last two days. My legs hurt.

6. The Young Gun approved a plan for moving some desks around in our office. On the day they came to move the desks, he claimed he didn’t approve the plan they brought (he did, but didn’t look at it closely enough when he approved it, I suppose), and asked for a new plan. He concluded with one of his famous phrases – “I really think it would be best this other way, but ultimately, you can do whatever you need to do.” Translation: If you do it the other way, I’m going to think you’re not doing the best you can do. Le sigh. Unfortunately, the plan he wanted? Impossible without ordering a whole new desk. We’re going with the old plans and hoping that he’ll get used to it. Cross your fingers.

7. Last night I made chicken-fried chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans for supper. It was great comfort food.

8. If I could eat 12 meals a day, I think I would.

9. See thing #8 to understand why I’m having a difficult time losing the 10 pounds I’ve gained since getting married.

That is all. Have a lovely day.

Lord, I was born a rambling...gal

2010-01-22T13:32:00.000-08:00

Shh… don’t tell anyone. I’m doing everything I can to avoid doing actual work today.

Like looking at Little Brown Pen’s new addition to their shop:

Lust.

And thinking about our upcoming trip to France and Spain.

In Spain, we will see some giant statues like this:

Which will eventually end up like this:

I’ve been told it’s scary, but also exhilarating and fun. I’m a bit worried about the massive towers of flames, but hopefully I’ll be drunk at that point, and therefore impervious to fire. Right?

It’s Friday, and I can’t think of anything but the fact that the Mister and I are headed for a sushi dinner tonight, maybe followed by video games, maybe followed by a movie. And tomorrow morning, I think I’m going to make these:

Then I will have to run 12 miles to work off the calories. But I think it will be soooo worth it.

Happy The Weekend!

The hits keep on coming

2010-01-21T07:51:00.001-08:00

Today's outfit is brought to you by gold shimmer and bronze. We also bring you hanger creases in the pants for your viewing pleasure.

If only you could see the excess of Prince-in-purple-rain ruffles on the front of the gold-thread sweater, your life would be complete, I swear.

Please note that socks and sweater must have come as a matching set.

- From my iPhone

Marital Bliss

2010-01-15T08:28:00.000-08:00

Every now and then, the Mister and I have one of those nights where we are just one. We are together. We are present. We enjoy each other. And no, I’m not talking about the Biblical sense of “together.” (But that's nice, too.)

The last few nights I’ve gone to bed alone. Spent the whole evening alone, in fact, as the Mister worked diligently on a project that came due yesterday afternoon. He spent the time in his shop, being One with his tools, while I spent time being One with the bed and my books. It was a bit sad, since I’d just spent an entire weekend away, but it was an obligation he had, and he wasn’t about to shirk it. (You hear that 7th grade English teacher? I used one of our vocab words. FINALLY.)

We got into bed, both exhausted, and I thought it would only be moments before we were both asleep. But we spent time giggling, and talking, cuddling, and being silly. We played, we laughed, and he read Lord of the Rings to me. Somewhere in the midst of this, I demanded a date from my Mister. An honest-to-goodness date. Sure, we go out a lot, but it’s rare that I feel like we’re out on a date. We just… do stuff. We sit and play a game, and then we decide to go to the bookstore, and we go our separate ways (me to look at design books or fiction, him to look at history books or art), and only meet up an hour later when we’re both ready to head out.

So, tonight I’m going on a date. With my Mister. A date that I asked for, nay, DEMANDED in order to remind us that we’re married, and haven’t spent more than an hour together in the last week.

Last night I fell asleep, cuddling in my Mister’s “nook” as he read to me. We both fell asleep that way - in each other's arms - a rarity, as I usually get too hot to cuddle for long, and he has trouble sleeping on his back. But we did, and it was heavenly.

I’m pretty sure this is what they were talking about when they refer to “marital bliss.”

Randomosity: Or, The One in Which I Tell You Many Unrelated Things

2010-01-14T09:33:00.000-08:00

1. The temperatures finally got above freezing overnight, meaning I woke up this morning to a yard nearly clear of snow, and a muddy puppy. Walking outside without wearing ski gloves makes me happy. I loved the snow, but I’m glad its gone.

2. School starts on Tuesday. I’m anxious, because I’ve really been enjoying my break. I’m not ready to go back. Only one more year, though. Four semesters, five tops. I think I can make it.

3. I want to go sit in a coffee shop with a story I’m working on and sit and write and drink coffee for hours. I really like doing that, and I haven’t in a very long time.

4. I’m attempting to find a way to work what I want to do into the place that I already work. There’s no job there for me yet, but I can’t justify leaving such a wonderful place for the unknown. I’ve never been treated so well at a job.

5. I want to run outside again.

6. This morning I weighed myself, and – if my scale isn’t lying – I’ve lost 2 pounds. I’m shooting for 10 pounds total, but 2 was my first mini-goal. I’d like to not look like a cow in my clothes anymore.

7. The Mister has been up way past his bedtime the last two nights working on a project for a local artists’ club. He’s been stressed out by it, and last night didn’t go to bed until 3:00 in the morning because he was working on it. Poor guy.

8. I forgot to wear earrings today, and their absence is driving me mad. Also, my hair is doing that annoying cowlick-y thing in the back, which makes me look like I don’t comb my hair. Ever. Which I kind of don’t.

9. The chef at work convinced me to get a pasta alfredo with pecans and grapes yesterday. It was good, but it could be my downfall on the weight thing. Cream, cheese, butter and pasta. Damn that evil chef.

10. I’m making dinner tonight for a bunch of my friends and I forgot to bring a key ingredient. Oops.

11. I need to mail off my passport application. Like, now. Because we’re going to France in 7 weeks. SEVEN. Apropos, I need to practice my French.

Fin.

He's Awesome and 11 Other Reasons Why I Married Him

2010-01-11T10:05:00.000-08:00

Right now, our house is as clean as its ever been. And I had no hand in it.

This weekend, my mother and I went on a trip with family friends to Vegas. I kind of sprang it on the Mister, and he took it in stride and didn’t seem to mind my going. I imagined he would spend the weekend playing on our Playstation 2 – a recent acquisition from a friend, but to my surprise he didn’t. In fact, by the way the house looks, he spent almost no time playing, and the whole time working, working, working.

I walked in at almost midnight last night and was immediately greeted by a living room that looked vastly different. I blanched. I looked again. I put down my stuff, and slowly walked through the house with the Mister, trying to find all the little changes he had made. Among other things he:

1. Cleaned the house from top to bottom so that it is absolutely SPOTLESS.
2. Removed a piece of our sectional couches and transferred it to the basement via treacherous outdoor stairs in 4-degree weather.
3. Moved a few things around so said piece of sectional didn’t look like it is “missing” at all, but made the room feel twice as big.
4. Hung three or four new pictures.
5. Bought a nice wall clock for our living room
6. Bought two new, matching chairs for our tiny dining room, which make the room look much bigger.
7. Moved a bookshelf from the hallway to our bedroom, so we can have a more accessible “to-read” shelf.
8. Bought a tablecloth for the folding table that is acting as extra counter space in our kitchen.
9. Bought and installed curtains and a curtain rod to replace the ugly folding doors on our pantry. (And I think he would have hemmed them, too, had he known how to use my sewing machine).
10. Installed our magnetic strip mount for our collection of Wustof knives.
11. Moved the subwoofer behind our entertainment center so that it is no longer a feature of our living room.

And I know I’m forgetting things. Really, the house looked incredible, and if it hadn’t been nearly 1:00 a.m. by the time I had showered and dried my hair, I would have spent more time admiring it. As it was, I arrived home officially exhausted and climbed into bed with my equally (and rightfully) exhausted Mister.

Perhaps I should go away more often… ?

Nah. I miss him too much.

It's Monday and I am Tired

2010-01-11T08:33:00.000-08:00

WANT.

That is all.

(via i am a greedy girl)

2009-12-31T09:39:00.000-08:00

Dear Weekend,

I’m so glad you are going to hang around an extra day this time. I always like when you pull Friday into your ranks. Would you mind doing that a bit more often, please?

Anywho, I have big plans for you and I. Here’s what I’m thinking; let me know if you like it:

1. Let’s organize all the crap I’ve stuffed under the spare bed. I know it’s there, you know its there, and most of it can probably be thrown away.

2. Let’s go see this with the Mister. I bet he’d really like to see it.

3. Let’s clear out the Christmas decorations. Because the tree is dry and the ornaments are starting to fall off of their own volition. I don’t want to see my Precious Moments (don’t judge, Weekend!) on a suicide mission.

4. Why don’t we finish reading Armageddon in Retrospect (I know how much you love Vonnegut), and start reading Wuthering Heights? It’s about time we got that one under our belts.

5. Let’s go to the gym. At least once. Come on, I know it’s not exactly fun, but none of my pants fit anymore, and since you’re having to add an extra day, I’m guessing you’re having the same problem. Things just don’t FIT.

6. I’ve got a few gift cards that need to be spent. Let’s take them on a whirlwind tour of the city, and then maybe return the shoes that I bought for the Mister, only to bring them home and discover they were both LEFTS. (Is there someone who took two rights? Did they mean to? Is their left foot shaped like their right one? I’m dying to know.)

7. Let’s make espresso and tea and coffee press coffee all day, every day. I love our new stovetop espresso maker, and I want to make sure it gets a fair shake in this world.

Love,
Me.

P.S. If we have time, maybe we should start working on organizing the computer at home. It’s in a sad state, and it really needs to be backed up and cleaned out. We could at least start organizing some of the files, couldn’t we? Come on… please? I could really use your help, Weekend.

A White Christmas With My Mister

2009-12-28T08:16:00.000-08:00

Christmas was a hit. Our menu was straight from the Pioneer Woman’s website. Nearly every bit. And it was scrumptious. The biggest hit was this “Fancy Macaroni." It cost about a million dollars to make, what with all the fancy-schmancy cheeses in it, but it was so good that it was really worth it. My only suggestion would be to add a fancier meat to it –maybe mix bacon and pancetta. Not that it really needs to be more expensive.

The Mister really raked it in this year from me. I couldn’t stop myself buying his gifts. None of them were huge gifts, just a ton of small things – a miniature leatherman, a huge Maglite, clothes, a fossil watch and a lot of stocking stuffers. I loved watching him open them.

The Mister did pretty good for my gifts, and I walked away with a beautiful coat from Victoria’s Secret – something that has the princess seams to allow me to wear my cute party dresses with it. I’m looking forward to going to a party so I can try it out.

The biggest hit, though, were my stocking stuffers, or the lack thereof. The Mister had planned on getting them Christmas Eve, but we were slammed with a storm and the windshield wipers on the Mister’s car were unresponsive. So, he managed to hike in the sleet to get the meat for our meal, but stocking stuffers were out of the question. On Christmas morning, I was a little bummed, and I may or may not have acted like a spoiled brat. And then I had a genius idea.

“Mister?” I said.

“Yes, my love?” he looked sheepish, like I was going to go into full-on tantrum mode about my empty stocking.

“Could my stocking stuffers maybe be that you do everything I say today?”

He took no time in responding. “Sure!”

It was an easy out, and left us both feeling better. I immediately ordered him to water the Christmas tree. That was followed, in no particular order, by setting up the table, cleaning various things, and making the bed. After dinner, I announced to him that I wasn’t going to step in the kitchen again for the rest of the day, and he made it his personal mission to ensure it was cleaned and all the leftovers put away (with the help of our mothers). He fetched me water, made me espresso, and basically acted like the most ideal husband all day.

To top if off, he turned it into a weekend-long thing. Taking out the trash in two feet of snow (I would have asked, but our laundry room was filled with 4 full bags and starting to smell like a landfill), scratching my back for the longest time, watching movies with me, cleaning up while I enjoyed my new Zelda game and read a lovely book, and going outside in the ice cold to try to build a snowman. I felt pampered and loved and taken care of all weekend. I asked last night if it could become a tradition. It was far better than a stocking full of candy I didn’t need.

So, thank you to my Mister for forgetting to buy Reese’s Pieces and random crap to fill my stocking. I loved my “stocking stuffers” more than you can imagine. It made my Christmas simply wonderful.

An Open Letter to Mommy Bloggers Everywhere

2009-12-17T09:34:00.000-08:00

Dear Bloggers and Friends Whom I Love,

Please stop getting pregnant. And please post lots of things about how great it is NOT to be pregnant. Because seeing you with your growing bellies, glowing faces, and adorable knit goods bought from Etsy sellers is making my uterus ache. I don’t need a uterus ache. I am only 26.

Please use the next few posts to talk about how glad you were to wait 2 or 3 or 10 years into marriage to start trying for kids. Please tell me how glad you were that you had your twenties baby-free. And if you have kids? Please tell me how much longer you wished you’d waited before you got your beautiful little munchkins.

Because all the baby pictures and gushing about nurseries is starting to make me want one. And that is not in my life plan for the next couple of years. We are NOT ready for a baby. (Do you hear that, fallopian tubes?)

So, seriously. Stop. Stop getting pregnant, and stop posting adorable pictures of your sweet, tiny little humans. Stop making me think how much I want to make a tiny version of my Mister. Otherwise I think I might experience the miracle of conception by sheer force of will from my biological clock, bypassing all forms of birth control currently employed my Mister and I specifically to prevent that miracle.

Thanks

Jewelry Love

2009-12-17T09:26:00.000-08:00

It's a little late for gifts from Etsy for Christmas, but Valentines isn't too far off. Just sayin...

This ring found via Bliss.

Greedy Much?

2009-12-03T06:59:00.000-08:00

Dear Santa,

I would like this apron for Christmas:

Or maybe this one:

I know it’s desperately house-wifey to want an apron. I know I may be pushing the women’s movement back by 20 years. But the thing is, I love aprons. I love them especially when I’m wearing something nice, but I still want to do a little baking without getting flour all over my midsection as I lean against the counter. And I don’t think wearing an apron means I need to have a giant white monstrosity that says, “Kiss the Cook.” I want to look feminine and feel pretty while I throw ingredients around my little kitchen.

Really, Santa, you can get me just about any apron from this page and I will love you for it.

Sincerely,

Jenn

P.S. If a Silpat baking mat was wrapped up in the apron, I don’t think I’d mind one bit.

Ghost Town

2009-11-27T14:08:00.000-08:00

It's a bit eerie, being the only one in the office. Normally loud with voices, printers, phones ringing, and people using their speaker phones unecessarily, it is so quiet in here that I have my iPhone playing (coughcoughTwilightsoundtrackdon'tjudgecough) to keep me company while I work.

It feels like one of those zombie movies, where people have gone into a hospital or an office building to find it utterly deserted. Or like that scene in Vanilla Sky, with Tom Cruse running through Times Square, totally freaked out because it's just empty. That's my office today. I am literally the ONLY soul here, and I only stay because someone has to answer the phones, should they ever ring.

The only phone call I've gotten today? Someone calling from home, asking for tickets to a hockey game, which I've already given away. Nice.

At least I'm getting a ton done. Hooray for a clean inbox.

Just Another Day in WTF-Land

2009-11-21T13:44:00.001-08:00

A typical work interaction:

Scene: I am calling another department to let them know that we have a contract signed for them. I help handle all of the things the CEO signs. Contracts are always returned to the department from which they originated. Sometimes the department refuses to take the original, in which case I file it away, forget where it is and ultimately never see it again. (Never fear, I keep scanned copies of everything, which I access regularly in place of the originals.)

Me (on the phone): Hi Kathryn*, it’s Jennifer.
Kathryn (spoken with a tone of disdain and a sprinkle of sarcasm): Hey. Can I help you?
Me: Yeah, I have this contract that the Young Gun signed for you. Would you like me to get the original back to you?
Kathryn: Usually we put the original in their personnel file.
Me (Pause as I try to figure out how this in any way answers my question. I take a stab at it): So, should I send it to the HR office, then?
Kathryn: No, the HR doesn’t keep files on our contracted employees.
Me (a little confused): Ah, so then who does?Kathryn (said as if this should be obvious): I do.
Me: So, then, should I send the original contract back to you?
Kathryn: Yes, that would be good.

End Scene

Please note that half that conversation could have been avoided, had she answered my question the first time. No one else seems to see the problem in this, as it happens daily.

Have I mentioned that sometimes I don’t exactly love everyone I work with?

*Name changed to protect the belligerent.

When I'm 64

2009-11-05T06:21:00.000-08:00

Maybe it's an odd aspiration to have at my age, but when I'm older, I want to be elegant. I want to feel like Audrey Hepburn looked in her later years. I want people to look at me and think I look like a true lady. So, when I came across this picture in the Sartorialist, I immediately felt I needed to save this and put it in a time capsule so I can refer to it in later years. Because this? This is elegance. This is class. This is timelessness. And when I'm 54 or 64 or 74, I want to look just like this.

A Job. Maybe.

2009-11-04T10:51:00.000-08:00

I had an interview. My first in the library field since I was in college. This is exciting for two reasons:

1.) I really want to get into the field I think I was meant to be in.
2.) The job sounds like it will be loads of fun.

It is also scary for more than two reasons:

1.) It pays significantly less than my current job.
2.) It will be a huge change.
3.) I haven’t worked in a library for the last three years.
4.) It is in the field I THINK I was meant to be in.

I gave the interviewer, Jeff, a link to this page. I hope he is impressed not only by my ability to find cool shtuff to utilize in and out of libraries, but also by my witty repartee and mad blogging skilzz. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for this position, but I know that – being the first job I’ve applied for – it is kind of a long shot.

I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high, but at the same time keeping a mantra in my head – I’m perfect for this job, and it will be the chance I’ve been looking for.

Cross your fingers, toes, and anything else you have that is crossable. For me. Please?

Wake up call

2009-10-29T18:49:00.001-07:00

You think you're the only one who knows there's a book signing for your favorite blogger, and then you show up to this:

But I love the Pioneer Woman enough to put up with it.

Sunday SOL

2009-10-25T07:13:00.001-07:00

You know those mornings when the sun is shining, and the coffee smells extra good, and you've got a great day ahead, and you sit down to work on some school work only to discover that you've inexplicably missed an assignment for one of your classes that's worth 15% of your grade?

Yeah, I'm having one of those mornings.

I just spent twenty minutes being hugged by my husband while I moaned over and over, "I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid..." I've always been a very attentive student. Always getting my assignments done on time. Hardly ever late, by even a day. And here I am, completely ignoring the syllabus, and going about my business like it's a normal day.

This may be the straw that breaks the camel's back. I can't keep working at a 50hr/week job and take more than one class at a time for my master's degree. It might be time to consider going part time at my job. If I can afford it, I think I'm going to do it.

Here's to having a crappy start to the day. Cheers.

NaNoThink-O

2009-10-20T10:50:00.000-07:00

So, last year I participated in NaNoWriMo, and – I’m not going to lie – I failed. I got to about 34,000 words and I couldn’t finish. Not because I didn’t have any ideas, but because I had TOO many. I’m still stalemated on that novel, not sure how to end it. Part of me wants to go back and rewrite from the point I began to have doubts about my plot, and finish it in an entirely different way. Part of me thinks I should just finish it from where I am, and see how it comes out. Regardless, my NaNoWriMo participation was less than stellar.

This year, I’m even more swamped with things. I’m taking two graduate classes (last year I was classless, but was still classy if you can believe it), and I have more commitments than I care to think about. My life has just been crazy lately, leaving little time for me to sit at home and write.

But. BUT. I want to. Oh, do I want to. And I keep thinking that if I can just get my body out of bed early in the mornings, I could start my day with an hour of writing, coffee and breakfast, and have a day that’s productive. It’s the getting up part that I haven’t succeeded yet, though.

So, I’m going back and forth. To write or not to write? I have no plot in mind for this year’s NaNoWriMo, so I suppose that’s my first hurdle. I have 11 days to come up with a plot I can write 50,000 words on or novel be damned. Some ideas I’ve toyed around with in the past:

A high school teenager who can read thoughts by touching people. She then meets a boy whose thoughts she can’t read, and the bizarreness of this event leads her to be alternately terrified of him and curious why he’s the only one she can’t read. (I began this story about… 10 years ago, believe it or not. But it never went anywhere, and so I wouldn’t mind starting from scratch. But now it just sounds like part of the Twilight books.)
An office worker is fired from his 9-5 and can’t find a job. He’s reduced to applying for a job at Wal-Mart, where he learns how poorly huge corporations treat their lowly employees. He becomes the champion of his workers, executing clever and maddening pranks on the management to get their attention, trying to lead his fellow workers into enlightenment about their ability to be autonomous. (This one came out of having actually worked at Wal-Mart and seen how terribly some of those employees live. Horrifying, really. Our store was so bad, that a year or two ago, I was sent a letter asking if I wanted to join a class-action lawsuit against that particular store for their treatment of the employees.)
A woman is employed at a 9-5 that she doesn’t love. Then, one day, she receives a writing desk in the mail from an aunt who passed away and left her the piece in her will. It comes with a letter that only reads, “So that you may write…” After living with the desk for a few weeks, she discovers, during a power outage, a secret compartment to the desk and finds letters from the sister of a famous author. After reading the letters, she discovered that it was the sister who did all the writing, and the famous author could barely string two words together. The mystery of this sister leads the woman to a long, fascinating search and discovery of her family history.

The last is my favorite, but I’m just not sure how to make it into a novel. I guess the goal of NaNoWriMo isn’t necessarily to write a good novel, but to write 50k words of one. And then maybe make it INTO a good novel. I may outline the story a bit more to see if I can make it go somewhere, and then take a stab at it.

The worst I can do is fail. Again. Right?

Tag, I'm It.

2009-10-20T08:52:00.000-07:00

Arlynn over at Fleur De-licious must be my most dedicated reader, because not only did she notice I’ve been missing lately, but she also celebrated my return with a sweet award, and a request to do a one-word survey. Thanks, Arlynn!

So, here I go again…

1. Where is your cell phone? Desk
2. Your hair? Blonde
3. Your mother? silly
4. Your father? Engineer
5. Your favorite food? Mexican
6. Your dream last night? MIA
7. Your favorite drink? Latte
8. Your dream/goal? Writer
9. What room are you in? Office
10. Your hobby? Reading
11. Your fear? Loneliness
12. Where do you want to be in six years? Libraries
13. Where were you last night? Asleep
14. Something that you aren't? Motivated
15. Muffins? Topless
16. Wish list item? Clothes
17. Where did you grow up? Oklahoma
18. Last thing you did? Emailed
19. What were you wearing? Skirt
20. Your TV? Off
21. Your pets? Singular
22. Friends? Tolerant
23. Your life? Perfect
24. Your mood? Anxious
25. Missing someone? Nope
26. Vehicle? Busted
27. Something you're not wearing? Hosiery
28. Your favorite store? Gap
29. Your favorite color? Cerulean
30. When was the last time you laughed? Minutes
31. Last time you cried? Weeks
32. Your best friend? Mister
33. One place that I go over and over? Crazy
34. One person who emails you regularly? AT&T
35. Favorite place to eat? Mexican

A(n Un)Restful Weekend

2009-10-19T09:22:00.000-07:00

I’m not usually one to give a blow-by-blow of my weekend. It’s just not my bag. The whole “Dear Diary, today I…” routine is one I got over after failing to write in my first five-year diary. It was a habit my grandmother loved, and I still remember leafing through her tiny diary, with her little scrawl on each five-line allotment per day – “Doctor’s appointment, work, dinner at Lou’s, saw the grandkids…”

Me, though, I tend to focus on the exciting little moments. Those random events that make me laugh, or the interesting parts of the day I’ve had. Even with this preference, I am tempted to detail my weekend down to the last minute. It was nothing but running, running, running from 5:00 Friday night until 2:00 this morning. Rather than a long narrative (which just thinking about exhausts me to no end), I will now give you a bulleted list (my favorite kind) of Things I Have Done In the Last 65 Hours:

Was made dinner by 6 local firemen
Took a ride in a fire truck
Became the “Official Party Mad-Lib Reader”
Watched no less than four women pee
Saw more boobs than I can count – some on friends, some on strangers
Helped clean up shards of glass from a broken wine glass
Had a dance party to “This is How We Do It”
Met a guy named “Fro” who likes to play awesome 90s rock on an acoustic guitar
Bought the best-fitting pair of jeans I’ve had in a while – from the Gap, no less
Bought a penis-shaped cake
Played Pinata for shots
Made a pair of Spock ears and a veil with Star Trek insignia
Danced for hours
Visited my first (and I hope LAST) strip club
Saw my first flasher, and adamantly told him to “zip it up” while I dragged two drunk women by as fast as I could
Had a facial
Saw U2 in concert
Drove from OKC to Tulsa at 12:00 a.m., arriving at my front door at 1:45
Got up and went to work on a wee bit more than 4 hours sleep

Needless to say, between a house party, a bachelorette party, dinner at a firehouse and a concert, my weekend was full to brimming. I’m dragging ass this morning, and counting down the hours until I can go home and lay on the couch to watch TV for the rest of the night, and maybe go to bed around 8:00. I’m so exhausted.

Case and point: I just went to make myself a cup of coffee in the work kitchen. I put the coffee in my mug, set the mug on the counter and went to get a serving of half-and-half from the fridge. I peeled back the paper, and then walked to my coffee cup, which was next to the sink. I then promptly poured the half-and-half down the sink. Why? I don’t know. It was waste of good creamer, if you ask me.

Only four more hours at work, though, and then I’m off. Let’s only hope I don’t fall asleep at my desk before then.

A Letter (or The One in Which I Am Sarcastic)

2009-10-13T10:43:00.000-07:00

Dear People Who Come By My Desk When I Am Not There,

I have a box on my file cabinet. You have to walk by it to get inside my sad little cubicle. It is on the very edge of the filing cabinet, not obstructed by any plants, pictures or other accoutrements of office life. It is front and center, and it has a sign (in bright, obnoxious green) that says “Inbox.” It’s located in such a way that it offers the advantage of walking the very least distance to my desk, as I reside at one end of a long hall, and I have attempted to save you a few steps.

Why, with all this wonderful planning of mine, do you then insist on bypassing my inbox and instead place your papers on my chair, my keyboard, amidst a pile of papers I was readying for the shredder, or balanced precariously on my coffee mug?

Ah, I see. This document could not wait until I checked my inbox in an hour. It was imperative that I see it the moment I approached my desk, or began sifting through my papers. The fact that you needed a signature for your expense report (in the amount of $7.95 for the pack of lightbulbs you bought for your office rather than requesting them from central supply like everyone else, which would have saved the company about $7.45) was more important than any of the other 15 items in my inbox.

Next time I will do my best to find a place for the inbox that makes more sense to you. Perhaps taped to the top of my computer monitor, or on a solitary stand right in the center of my cubicle? Maybe with a candlelit altar and some soft music playing? Is that prominent enough for you? I’ll get to work on it right away.

Sincerely,

I Lost Your Piece Of Paper Among Fifty Other Pieces Of Paper

Happy The First

2009-10-12T01:00:00.000-07:00

One year ago today, I was all aflutter. At this very moment, I was walking down the aisle. I was nervous, but excited. I was so ready to be a Mrs. and now I’m so glad I am.

Happy first anniversary, my love.

Score!

2009-09-23T06:55:00.001-07:00

Thanks to my cousin, Joanna over at Tales From the Ground (http://talesfromtheskymom.blogspot.com) I have discovered blogging from my iPhone. I am officially happy.

- From my iPhone

A Work Story

2009-09-16T13:17:00.000-07:00

One of my bosses, whom I don’t have a particular liking for and, who (unfortunately) I spend the most time with has this tendency to like to stay home. She works from home, she goes home early, she comes in late, she calls in sick (but then participates in conference calls so she can call it a work day). It’s so frustrating, because it’s so obvious she’s A) faking it or B) not as sick as she says she is. I have much more respect for a person who is quiet about being sick - who tells me once, and then goes home. Because if they're lying, at least they're not trying to play it up.

Yesterday, she left with a “migraine.” It’s her favorite thing to do. She complains of a migraine for about twenty minutes, tells me over and over that she’s “going to throw up,” and never does, then leaves at 2:00. This morning, she came inside my personal bubble, sat her coffee down right next to me (for a second I thought she had brought me coffee and I was very confused) and says, “I don’t know how long I’m going to last today – I’ve already been to the bathroom three times this morning.”

My response came out, “Oh?” but what I was really thinking was, “Okay, number 1 – I don’t need to know that. Number 2 – if that’s the case, I don’t want you anywhere near me. And number 3 – even if you were feeling perfectly fine, I still don’t want you sitting on my desk, ten inches from my elbow.”

There’s something about being an assistant that makes everyone think they can invade your personal workspace with no problem. It bugs me. I hate people coming up behind me and watching what I’m doing. And this particular person is notorious for that. In fact, the other day, she came into my desk space, saw something that needed approval and signed it. I just saw as she was going to sign a second one and said, “Woah! Those aren’t yours!” Then, I got to spend a few minutes whiting out her signature so I could take it to the right person.

Oh what joys I get to experience every day.

One Year, Around the Corner

2009-09-14T13:48:00.000-07:00

In less than a month, Greg and I will be celebrating our first anniversary. I’ve spent a fair amount of time in the last few weeks, remembering this time last year. I was stressed, but thrilled. I couldn’t believe that I was about to embark on an entire life with a man, and that I was planning this crazy party for my family and friends to watch me commit to that. I was spending nearly every evening working on some aspect of the wedding – making a ring pillow, putting together programs, worrying about whether it would rain or be too cold. I was taking painstaking care of myself – manicures, highlights, workouts and nightly skin routines ruled my life. I wanted to glow on my wedding day. I wanted to look exactly how I felt – beautiful and radiant. And quietly, I was reflecting on the end of my single life.

It was only a tiny death. Like watching one tea light among thousands quietly sputter out. Greg and I had been living together for more than a year. We had been together for two years. Our lives had melded in such a way that I hadn’t felt single in a very long time, despite my distinct ability to be able to walk away with no legal ties holding me back. I wasn’t worried that the piece of paper we signed and the vows we made would be too much for me, but rather the fact that I would be forever worrying about this man. The idea of sharing his name, bearing his children brought forth worries of what I would do if he ever died, how I would live if he was ever severely injured. Morbid thoughts for a new bride, I knew, but somehow I couldn’t escape them.

But now we’re here – one year later. It’s been a crazy year in which we have:
1. Been to Costa Rica (our honeymoon)
2. Bought a house
3. Had a car stolen
4. Got the car back
5. Contemplated a second dog for our family
6. Fought dog hair every day from invading our wardrobes, and thus reconsidered the second dog
7. Traded sleeping schedules (he gets up earlier than me for the first time since we’ve known each other)
8. Stayed in Frank Lloyd Wright’s one and only skyscraper
9. Acquired a pop-up camper
10. Made hundreds of dinners together
11. Drank countless bottles of wine
12. Learned how to share a house with a single bathroom without ever watching the other person pee (except when under the influence and impatient)
13. Gained approximately 100 pounds (or maybe closer to 20 between the two of us)
14. Started sewing/gardening/baking/woodworking
15. Played hide and seek with our dog
16. Began to discover the “joys” of owning an old home
17. Loved, loved, and loved some more

It’s my responsibility to plan the first anniversary – took the odds and he has the evens. It’s going to be quiet and simple, as I have class on our anniversary, and we’re planning a big anniversary trip for the Spring. But I’ll make it special and important, and will give us time to properly thank one another for the first year of our wonderful, beautiful, splendid marriage.

Remembering

2009-09-11T10:48:00.001-07:00

Image via i'mjustsayin on flickr

Eight years ago today, I was woken by my roommate.

“Hey, someone flew into the Empire State Building.”

“Wow; you think it’s bad?”

“Nah, I guess people do it a lot – probably a little biplane or something.”

I just nodded, groggily, pulled on some clothes and grabbed my books for my history class. On my way there, I noticed a weird trend – nearly everyone I saw was on their cell phone. What is a common sight now was, in those days, somewhat surprising. Cell phone minutes were scarcer, overages more expensive, and people often still used the phones in their rooms to make most calls. Seeing so many phones to ears piqued my interest, but I was already running late and had an entire campus to cover before I reached my 400-person history seminar.

When I walked into the huge, ampitheater-style classroom, I could see my professor – a small, athletic woman standing with uncharacteristically hunched shoulders at the podium.

“No class today. I don’t know how they would expect us to teach on a day like this.”

She continued mumbling, something that I couldn’t hear from 20 rows back, but she looked distraught. Confused (and, frankly, a little angry that I had gotten up to make a trek to a cancelled class), I turned around and left the building again. Still, people were walking briskly while talking excitedly on cell phones. I began to worry – had something happened on campus? The news from my roommate echoed in my head again. Surely this wasn’t all about a biplane running into the Empire State Building.

As I walked the long path back toward the dorms, I noticed an even more bizarre scene in front of me. More than twenty students were gathered around a television on a cart in the middle of the grass, connected by a very long extension cord to a nearby building. Hands covered mouths, eyes were wide. I hurried over and looked over the disheveled heads in front of me. To this day, I’m not sure what I saw. It was somewhere around 9:00 a.m., and on the TV, I could see the twin towers. Maybe I came just in time to see the second plane hit. Maybe I saw one of the towers fall. The recollection of weeks of replays and dissection of these videos have erased all memory of what I truly saw that day. Whatever it was, I realized that my roommate had misheard, but must have since discovered the tragedy that day.

Everything beyond that moment is blurry. I remember spending a lot of time in the student common rooms to watch the footage. I watched what little streaming video was available in those days – there was no YouTube then to guide me – to see the entire thing. I went home in a few weekends to my parents’ house, where I spent hours trying to understand what had befallen our country that day. Horror struck anew as the stories came out – the bravery of those who went down in Pennsylvania, the panicked phone calls family members received from their loved ones held hostage at 30,000 feet, the videos of the rescue efforts in the mangled wreckage of what used to be a major feature of the New York City skyline. I was sensitive to everything for months – the CD store I worked in pulled several albums which had cover art reminiscent of the attacks, and a few days after the attacks when the song “Let the Bodies Hit the Floor” came on over the loudspeaker, I scrambled to find the “eject” button on the CD changer.

In the years to come, I’d occasionally meet someone who would tell me about a loved one who had lived through or died in that attack on our nation. But it was only months after the attacks of 9/11/2001 that I met a gentleman who brought the tragedy right in front of me. I was working at Walt Disney World in Florida, serving turkey legs to the masses, and he stopped to talk for a moment. He had taken his whole family to Disney World, because “it’s only money,” as he said. He had been on one of the higher floors of the second tower – 90 or more floors up. He had made it out just in time, had been caught in the wafting smoky debris on the streets of NYC. After that experience, he knew what mattered – to see his whole family laugh with delight at the wonders that only a family vacation can illicit. Scrimping and saving money and vacation time, staying at work all hours of the day had suddenly ceased to matter to this man. And there he was, buying a Budweiser and a turkey leg. Not wearing an American flag or spouting the “United We Stand” motto to me, but reminding me that – although patriotism is important – it’s not your country you think about when faced with the very real possibility of death, but, rather, all those moments that could have been shared with the ones you loved.

At the risk of sounding trite, I’d encourage you to hug someone you love today, and remember the ones we lost eight years ago.

Where were you eight years ago today?

Feeling Blah-zay

2009-09-02T13:03:00.000-07:00

I’m feeling blah.

There’s the blah of feeling out of shape and overweight.

There’s the blah of feeling like I don’t have motivation to get everything done at work.

There’s the blah of feeling like I am letting things fall through the cracks with my friends.

There’s the blah of feeling like I have too many time commitments and not enough time.

Then there’s the blah of feeling that when I am at home, all I want to do is watch movies and listen to audiobooks – basically do anything but my schoolwork (and it’s only the second week of school).

I just feel blah. I could use something to get me out of this. Maybe a cattle prod?

Bonjour (Or the one in which I begin vacation planning)

2009-08-26T09:56:00.000-07:00

I love to vacation, and have always been on one major vacation each year. However, 2009 became “The Year of the House” and all of our time and extra cash has gone into moving in and beginning minor renovations on our new home.

But 2010? 2010 is up for grabs. So, over a bottle of wine at a local winery during lunch on my birthday weekend, the Mister and I talked about our next vacation. Right there, with 3/4ths a bottle of white wine down, and the 90-degree sun beating down on us, we decided that there could be no better thing that France and Spain in March. Thus my planning mind began. (There are reasons I didn’t plan our honeymoon – you know, like the fact that I was planning the REST of the wedding at the time and the Mister offered to take this trip off my hands.)

A few days ago, Jo over at A Cup of Jo blogged about this amazing apartment rental in Paris, and it piqued my interest. So, thinking there was NO WAY we could possibly afford it, I took a look around. To my surprise, not only are there chic 2 and 3-bedroom apartments for rent, but also a couple of tiny studio apartments, as well. So, continuing to satisfy my curiosity, I submitted a request for our dates. Lo and behold, they’re available! I’m currently in negotiations on price, but hope to be landing this apartment for our stay very soon. It’s very small – 215 square feet - but bigger than any hotel room we could afford in Paris. Not only that, but it also has a full kitchen, so I imagine the Mister and I will be doing some shopping at local markets and will prepare a few meals in our little “home.” And at only 595 Euro for a full week (which we only want to stay for 5 nights), it really is affordable. Maybe not as affordable as a hostel, but safer and certainly more comfortable when it comes to showering and using the toilet.

Once I book it, this trip will become real. The next stop will be plane tickets and car rentals. But with luck, we will be reserved to go very soon. Scary, but at the same time very exciting.

Money (That's What I Want)

2009-08-24T10:44:00.000-07:00

While I had a brief respite from school, I got a little out of hand.

Okay, a LOT out of hand.

My spending habits have been pretty under control for the last few years. Well, for most of my life, if I’m being honest. I don’t spend a lot of money on a lot of silly things. But when I have an event or a friend’s birthday coming up, I splurge. And I really get myself in trouble.

Over the last week, between a charity gala and a trip to Oklahoma City to spend time helping my best friend plan her wedding, I am in shock at how much money has disappeared from my hands. It’s overwhelmingly awful. Most of it was well-spent, mind you. I bought a new pair of boots, which I plan on getting a lot of use out of. And I bought a birthday/wedding present for my friend, which she really loved and will be using during her wedding. (When she said she wanted silver goblets for their toast, I immediately thought of these pewter flutes and knew it would be the perfect gift.) But there was a lot of money that just…slipped away.

As a result, my bank account is looking kind of scarce, I haven’t saved any money in a while, and I’m starting to feel a little nervous about this. The biggest eye-opener, though? The $400 balance on my credit card, which had been paid off monthly for nearly two years until this very month. Appalling.

So, with today being the first day of the new school year (for me), I figure it’s high time I did something about all this. Today marks my very own spending hiatus, a la Simply Lovely. For the next two weeks, I will be shaving my “entertainment” budget down to nil. No clothes. No crafting supplies. No dinners out “just because.” (In fact, I’ll even be bringing my lunch to work to cut out unnecessary expense there, too.) This is a relatively short amount of time, but I want to start small. If these first two weeks go well, I will plan on extending the hiatus to my one-year anniversary celebration with the Mister. It will be a perfect way to celebrate my savings.

The internet is full of fun ideas of things you can do with the supplies I already have at home. Baking is such fun for me, and I have all the supplies I need to do that, too. And, with school back in full swing, I really won’t have time to be out gallivanting at the mall or other places. Over the next couple of weeks, I’m going to hide my credit card from myself, put my check card in a hard-to-retrieve place in my wallet, and remind myself at every turn that I’m not buying things I need, but things that I want.

Wish me luck.

One-Minute Musing

2009-08-20T07:41:00.000-07:00

I was just using a pen advertising Good Shepard Hospice. It died. Self-fulfilling prophecy?

Baby Fever [aka NO - I'm not pregnant]

2009-08-10T14:29:00.000-07:00

For being from Oklahoma, I got married late in life. So many Oklahoma girls see college as their chance to get married, and many are planning weddings during their junior/senior years or immediately after graduating. I, however, always had it in my head that 26 was the perfect age to marry. It was when my mother married. I thought, surely, waiting until this age would give me several years in my twenties with my husband, allowing us to run around and have fun, and then start having children just as we came up on our 30s.

The problem with this, however, is that since so many Oklahoma girls get married at 22 and 23, they have already enjoyed those couple of child-free years of marriage, and are now blissfully beginning the journey of parenthood. My high school friends’ facebooks have turned into a collage of binky-clad, boppy-loving children and pictures of beaming grandparents holding something looking amazingly like Yoda sans the Jedi robes.

So, here I am, freshly married and wanting desperately to enjoy the oneness of our duo, before we make it a trio. It’s so hard, though, when I look around me and everyone is pregnant or enjoying (aka struggling through) the first few months of having a new child. Some days it’s easy. I think about how great it is to decide to go out to dinner and not to have to worry about if they have booster chairs or if it’s kid friendly. I love being able to go to the gym after work without having to make arrangements for childcare. There’s a freedom of being childless that I know I’m not ready to give up.

But, in every woman (I think) there’s this urge to create a tiny person with the big person you love. I literally cannot wait to have my Mister’s children. To see him interact with a baby. To watch him teach a little boy all the secret talents he has. To see him stare at a little girl with complete confusion.

Today, I feel very strongly that I don’t want children for a while. That maybe in a year or two we could start “trying.” But yesterday, I was feeling pretty much the opposite. Between a baby shower and a visit to Babies R Us, I was ready to attack my Mister in the stroller aisle. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope – terrified I might fall, but thinking how fun it could be to land in the net below, even knowing I could never take that decision back again.

(Also, note to self: When you talk about learning to sew, baking weekly and embroidery in the same conversation that you mention going to Babies R Us, a rumor WILL blossom among work friends. Oops.)

Oh La-la!

2009-08-07T07:19:00.000-07:00

These days I’m more and more into anything French-inspired. Maybe it’s because it’s been all over the blogging circuit in the last year. Or maybe it’s because I met a French man at a party recently and we jointly serenaded the room with a rendition of the Marseilles which was slightly off-tune but from the heart. (I must thank my high school French teacher, Madame Smith for forcing all her students to learn this song. It is the second-best bar/party trick I have up my sleeve. The first being the fact that she also taught us to recite the Preamble to the U.S. Constitution in French. Jaws drop, I tell you.)

Regardless, all things French are making me happy these days. So, when I saw pictures from the French General on I Suwannee’s blog, I was smitten.

Just look at these cards, those fabric squares, those notebooks! It’s enough to make a girl want to quilt and write letters and notes all day long.

And, I have been contemplating (thanks to a good friend) making banana bread mini-loaves for Christmas presents for the office. Wouldn't these be the perfect labels for the packages?

The Best Salvation Army Ever

2009-08-02T11:42:00.000-07:00

So, there's a Salvation Army in Tulsa that I've visited a few times to find Halloween costumes or random themed outfits. It's never failed me on either of those accounts. And they also have a huge furniture department, so yesterday - in search of a a small table for our breakfast nook, I went over there. After determining their furniture department didn't meet my needs, I thought I'd take a look around at the clothes.

Lately, I've been on a dress/skirt kick, and I thought I'd check out their dresses. Oh. My. Lord. I haven't seen so many great labels in one store in my life. There were, of course plenty of duds, but I was surprised at how many great finds there were. Many of them weren't in my size, but I ended up trying on about 20 items, and walking away with a few for myself. The grand total was $36. And my finds? Well, see for yourself.

A BCBG wrap dress, which was elegant enough that I wore it to the theater last night to see Wicked with my Mister.

A poofy, Norma Kamali skirt (with pockets!), perfect for a swim coverup or Saturday lounging.

Harold's was an Oklahoma staple and opened in 1948. Their style was JCrew meets Talbots, with a little Ann Taylor thrown in for good measure. Their clothes were classy (and expensive) and I often sought them out for a good dress for an important event. Unfortunately, the economic downturn resulted in the store completely folding, a tragedy for Oklahomans. So, when I found this Harold's dress, I nearly flipped a lid. I probably would have bought it even if I hadn't thought the pattern was so funky and cool. And the style is so flattering, with the full skirt and body-hugging top.

You can hardly go wrong with an Old Navy, A-line, empire-waisted cotton dress.

This ISDA & Co dress ended up being too big, but for 3 dollars, the incredibly soft cotton dress will be perfect for lounging, and might even be okay with a wide belt and heels.

Today, I chose to wear my new skirt (Banana Republic) with my wedding day jellies. Again, this one has pockets (!!) which I love. It's linen and breezy, and I never shop at Banana, so it's a huge treat. I can walk around the house cleaning and cooking and still carry my iPod in my pocket, listening to an audio book.

My puppy, Tonks, was not at all impressed with my finds, however...

Needless to say, I'll go back weekly to check things out. Incredible!

Anxiety

2009-07-09T18:49:00.000-07:00

I love to take pictures. I hate to transfer those pictures to a computer.

I'm not sure when this phobia started. Perhaps it was when I was abroad that one semester and uploaded all my pictures to Snapfish with witty captions and then accidentally deleted all my witty captions in one fell swoop. Regardless, I hate uploading pictures from my camera.

But here's the thing. It's not just the camera. It's uploading pictures from the internet, saving them on my computer and then having to upload them to blogger. I hate it. I really, really hate it. But I have this sense of obligation when I'm writing in blogger. A sense that I have to include pictures to make my words more interesting. Because words don't seem to stand on their own in bloggy land.

But the thing is, despite how much I love to take pictures, I love to write infinitely more. And I could post little blurbs like this seventeen times a day if I didn't have picture guilt every time I posted. There's this nagging fear that the ones who do visit my blog will grow bored of my words and never return.

So do me a favor - come back. Come back even when I'm not posting cute pictures of my puppy, or random things I happened to find already on my hard drive. Come back when I'm not being at all interesting and I'm whining about work. Because my blogging self esteem could really use the boost.

Deal?

She's back.

2009-07-08T18:13:00.000-07:00

I've got excuses. I swear.

I started summer school.

I've been unpacking and decorating the house.

It's been a hard month at work.

Blogger got blocked at my work!

Okay, fine. You see through my lies. So I'll come clean.

I got an iPhone, and I'm so thoroughly addicted, I haven't done much else. My days have been like this: iPhone, iPhone, Work. iPhone while working. Twitter on iPhone. Facebook on iPhone. Ooooh! A new App! iPhone, iPhone, Bed.

But now here I am. And I'm going to be back more often, because I write blog posts at work and then have nowhere to put them if I don't post. So I will post them. And pictures of my baking adventures, which have been successful (for the most part).

I'm still waiting for that perfect (ahem, Lori) banana bread recipe, but my dealer got engaged last week and has been thinking of little else. Though, who can blame her?

Forgive me?

The Mid-Year Resolution

2009-06-20T16:06:00.001-07:00

I’m terrible with New Year’s resolutions. I rarely make them, and when I do, they’re very vague. Like, “I will exercise more this year” or “I will eat fewer sweets.” I try not to set myself up for failure. But then, I think it’s so easy to fail when it’s January 1, and you’re trying to get in gear for a new year, trying to put away the decorations from Christmas, and worrying about all the money you just spent.

So, this year, I have decided I will make my resolutions on my birthday. And I’ve already begun my first resolution:

I will bake something every week.

When we moved into the new house, I was astounded by all the baking supplies I have, as I had to unpack them all to a spot in the kitchen where they are now prominently displayed. I have enough pie plates to bake 7 pies at once. I have round cake pans to make a layered cake. I have loaf pans for bread, casserole dishes, half-casseroles and two rolling pins (one of which was passed down from Greg’s mother – a family heirloom, with a beautiful note – which we got for our wedding).

For my first week, I made a pecan pie. The crust was not as flaky as I would have liked, but it turned out well, I think. Last week, I made these, which I saw on Rachel's blog, Heart of Light:

Mind you, I burnt one of the batches, and some of them fell apart because I couldn’t keep the dough cool enough while I rolled it out and cut the cookies, but the ones that turned out well tasted really good. The Mister wasn’t as fond of them as I was – they weren’t overly sweet, but then I like deserts that are light and fluffy.

This week, the goal is banana bread. I’ve got two very ripe bananas awaiting my deft skills (HA!). I’ve used the same banana bread recipe for years, but I think it’s time to branch out. I may even add some nuts to it this time.

So, for the next 52 weeks, I plan to make something each and every week. Something from scratch. Something tasty that my husband and I can snack on all week, or that I can take in to work to share. In the end, I hope that my baking skills improve and that I become more confident when I’m creating a crust or a bread or delicate cookies. I also hope to chronicle my successes (and failures) here. This week will begin the official start of the resolution. Wish me luck!

Birthday Wishes Part 3

2009-06-20T15:48:00.001-07:00

Again, with the birthday list...

10. A dresser.

I’ve lived the last 8 years of my life without a dresser. I’ve made due with plastic bins on wheels from Wal-Mart, but I’m starting to feel like that solution is very college-student and not very grown-up-woman-with-a-husband-and-a-new house. So, here are a few dressers that would fit the bill. We need something compact, but that uses its space very efficiently, and something that the hubby and I can share with ease.

This one from ebay is awesome – I could just see a few baskets underneath, photos on top, and Greg and I could easily divvy up the drawers.

I love this style of furniture – although it’s much harder to share when there are an odd number of drawers. At least it would be low profile.

But something simple like this would be perfect.

I have to admit, I would love something like this, but it’s a bit too large for my current needs.
11. A kitchen cart.

As I mentioned before, our new kitchen is not storage-friendly. We need a kitchen cart to play a few roles – extra counter space (one with an extendable leaf would make this much easier), drawer space for excess everything, and perhaps some space underneath to store a few extra items of importance.

12. Tank tops.

I love wearing tank tops over the summer. I could live in them. I even wear them to work when I can get away with it (under a tasteful jacket or sweater, of course). The ones I have are mostly three or four years old now, and starting to show their age. I could do with a new collection so I could throw out some of the older, fading and holey pieces. And there’s nothing like Old Navy for tank tops. Cheap, colorful and fun.

13. An amazing dinner, made by my Mister.

Since I’m 26, this will be my final fantasy gift, and hopefully one that (ahem) isn’t so much of a fantasy. My husband is great at improvising. He’s even better when he finds a great recipe and improvises on top of it. This is how he ended up making Brie-Stuffed Rosemary Chicken. And yes, it’s every bit as good as it sounds. For my 26th birthday, I would love nothing more than for that man to make me something so good that I wish there were seconds and thirds and fourths. I want to sit in our new home and eat by candlelight, laughing about the first gift he ever got me (it was a blender, and I loved it despite how silly it is to get your girlfriend a blender while you’re at a summer camp with no kitchen, no electrical power, and no way to use it for another two months). I’d love to use our nice china and the toasting glasses from our wedding. I’d love to drink champagne (even the cheap stuff) and eat fresh summer strawberries for dessert. I’d love to go sit on the back porch while we digest and watch our puppy play in the yard, while we talk about the children we’ll have someday, while we enjoy an after-dinner cocktail or four. I’d love to forget about work, and school, and money, and have an evening for the two of us. Because in this world of economic crisis and growing tumult between every political and social group known to man, it’s nice to spend an evening with the man you love and be reminded why you married him. To celebrate the fact that we’re still newlyweds and we still have many years of bliss to come. I can think of no better birthday gift than an evening of doting on each other. That and not having to make dinner or do the dishes. THAT would be awesome.

Birthday Wishes... continued

2009-06-17T19:57:00.000-07:00

Continuing the great Birthday Wish List of Doom...

4. A great chair.

Whether it ends up in a reading corner or sitting at my cute little desk, I could do so much with a simple chair like this one.

Or maybe something a little more fabulous, that can sit in the corner and look awesome. Like

this one from ye olde barn.

5. A few new summer dresses.

Something breezy, comfortable, work and weekend-friendly would be nice. Like these from J Crew, Gap, Gap and Banana Republic, respectively.
6. A new pair of slippers.

My fantastic Steve Madden fuzzy slippers (bought circa 1999, if you really wanted to know) are wearing thin, and I think it might be time for a new pair.

Maybe some adorable penguins?

Or something to make me feel like a ballerina…
Or, perhaps something more sensible, and ultimately more durable?
7. A great little bistro table for our breakfast nook.

We have a perfect little nook for quiet breakfasts, overlooking our adorable back yard. It would be lovely to have a table that would fit the space, and we already have two bistro chairs with no home. A match made in heaven, no?

8. A ring to help me channel my inner Carrie Bradshaw.

I’ve been watching entirely too much Sex and the City, and Carrie always wears a single ring on her right hand. I love that ring, and I’ve been looking for my very own. This one on the left might do quite nicely, but it’s a little pricey for a birthday gift.

9. Storage galore.

Our new house has few nooks for storage, so I need some help. Under bed storage, closet storage, easy hideaway solutions would help so much.

Birthday Wishes

2009-06-09T19:38:00.000-07:00

My birthday is in less than a month – June 22. So begins the season of birthday wishlists.

This year, my birthday will be a little less hooplah than in years past. Greg and I both agreed that we were spending a lot of money on a house right now, including all the little extras we’re having to purchase in order to get our house into good organizational order. With all that money being spent, putting a lot of funds into birthday gifts seems extravagant. My big gift this year is a beautiful home and garden, and the fact that we don’t have to buy a new car right this second.

That said, a girl can still dream about all those things she’d love to have if money were no object, and the residual costs didn’t add up to hundreds of dollars in unnecessary spending. So, over the next couple of weeks, I’m going to be posting the Fantasy Wish List. And, if you just can’t stand to see me go without, I’ll be happy to send you my home address, so you can buy me whatever your heart desires and ship it to me free of charge. I just know you guys are generous like that.

With that, I begin.

1. This state necklace.

Via Design Crush

I was born and raised in Oklahoma, and over the last two years, I’ve fallen in deep love with Tulsa in particular. Especially now that we have our little cottage in the older part of the city, surrounded by interesting little shops, mom & pop eateries and a REAL grocery store. This little gem would be the perfect way to profess my love for the state which has raised me.

2. The iPhone.

I’m coming to accept the fact that I will never own one. The $30 a month for the data plan suddenly seems too much to bear, considering all theother goodies I want. But this Samsung has similar functions, including internet, for only $15 extra a month!

That’s music to my eyes. I might be willing to compromise my wants for this one….

3. A buffet or sideboard.

Our kitchen is small and our dining room lacks any kind of storage whatsoever. My pretty china needs a place to live, and I think this beauty from Anthropologie would be the perfect home.

I also kind of love a few of the items from Ikea, like this crazy yellow mofo.

And this sideboard, where my pretty china could see and be seen.

There will be more to come, I'm sure. Stay tuned for continued wishes!

My hubby

2009-06-04T05:21:00.000-07:00

Is it any wonder I'm so happy and in love? Just look at him. I could eat him with a spoon in this picture.

Ssshhh, I'm snooping on his computer to look at old pictures of him. You won't tell, will you?

Goodbye to an Era

2009-05-28T14:25:00.000-07:00

Today is Monica Gellar’s last day. Let me reflect on the things I will not miss:

1. The fact that she feels the need to lock her desk drawers, even while she’s sitting at her desk. God forbid someone try to steal her ink stamps (which she doesn’t use) or her files of everyone’s approved time off for the last two years. They'd wait until she's so furiously typing that she'd never notice someone opening the giant, clanging metal drawer to pilfer her goods.

2. Watching her stroll in nonchalantly every day around 8:40 with her roll-y bag. A bag which is larger than the one my father, the engineer, carries to work each day. Really, sister - your job is NOT that important.

3. Seeing her walk down the hall, swinging her arms from the elbows; it’s like watching her doing an elaborate march all day.

4. Her child-like haircut which lies flat on her too-small head, making it look even smaller.

5. The long, dangly necklace she wears at least twice every week, if not three or four times. With outfits that could have done without it.

6. Walking by to see her poring over the minutes she wrote with a highlighter, red pen, and blue pen. She could easily spend three hours meticulously correcting minutes which no one will EVER read.

7. Listening to her 80 excuses as to why every time her husband sniffles she has to stay home with him/go to the dentist with him/take him to the eye doctor/put a bandaid on his boo-boo.

Things I will miss about Monica Gellar:

1. She’s the closest to the entrance to our area, meaning anyone coming from that direction stops at her desk first to ask questions. Saves me a lot of breath.

2. The fact that she liked to track our budget, a duty which has fallen to me and I fear I will totally fail at. I’m not a numbers person.

3. All the blog posts she inspired by being so incredibly OCD. There are so many more good times that could have been had…

One-Minute Musing

2009-05-28T06:22:00.000-07:00

Heard this morning on NPR during my drive to work, from a New York Times journalist:

“Even a small nuclear weapon can ruin your whole day.”

I concur.

Another boring update.

2009-05-19T12:51:00.000-07:00

I can't remember where I got this picture, but it makes me feel a teensie bit happier today.

It’s been light on the posting this week, and I apologize. Here is an update, in brief:

1. My hubby’s car was found at 3:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. The thieves took it joyriding and left it in the parking lot of a rundown apartment complex. With the windows down. In the rain. The car is a little banged up, someone got razor-blade happy on the upholstery, and they were kind enough to bash the radio, too. Still, the car is drivable, and we’re saved from having to scrounge enough money to buy Greg something that won’t last for more than a couple of years.

2. We close on the house on Friday. (Eek!) While the original plan had been to spend a week or so sprucing up the place, after the car-knapping and the chilling knowledge that these people know where we live and have been inside both of our cars, I’m anxious to get away from the house. As a result, we’re going to be doing a super-fast renovation of a few key areas. A repaint of the bedroom (which we discovered on Sunday is a room of wallpaper that’s been painted over – yuck), the addition of a doggie door, and a floor buffing session may be all we attempt before we begin the big move on Sunday. Every night this week is filled with packing, packing and more packing. I’m hoping to have everything just about ready to go by Thursday night.

3. This is one of those weeks that is crazy at work. A board meeting, executives flying in every other day, lots of kowtowing and “Of course, sir”-ing, and waiting every minute to be told you’re doing it all wrong.

4. I’m feeling pretty ill today. If it were not a board meeting day, I would have called in. But as it is, there’s no way I would call in on a day like this, unless I was vomiting blood. It takes three of us to keep the 20 board members and senior executives who need everything from a document faxed to a doctor’s appointment made to a latte breve, easy on the foam. So I’ve been alternating between trying to work and staring hopelessly at the clock, waiting for time to pass.

Update.

2009-05-15T12:51:00.001-07:00

It’s not been a fantastic week.

On Sunday, my husband’s car was stolen. From our driveway. While we were both home. Because my car was unlocked and I had a spare key to his car out in the open.

Can I feel worse? I’m not sure. Why don’t you try hitting me with a dead fish. I’m sure that could make things worse.

On Monday, Greg worked late.
On Tuesday, Greg was helping his grandfather move.
On Wednesday, I worked late.
On Thursday, we found out the closing date on our house has been pushed back to the 22nd.

I’ve been exhausted for most of the week.

I’m starting my period.

We now have to buy a car for Greg, even knowing that his car could randomly turn up in some parking lot, just fine and no worse for the wear. Nevermind that we just took out a huge loan for our adorable house. Nevermind that we have closing costs, moving costs, refurnishing costs, and we don’t know how much our monthly bills will be.

This weekend will be busy – packing, meeting up with some friends, going to a festival, picking up boxes from friends, trying to find a car, looking at the house one last time before we close…

I could really use some good drugs right now.