Tuesday, December 20, 2011
I think seeing all those cards up must have made an impression on my young mind because every Christmas I find a way to display the well wishes we've received. But, I have to admit, since we haven't ever sent out Christmas cards our tableau isn't really that impressive. In fact, it's kind of like the Charlie Brown Christmas tree of card displays:
Starting from left to right:
1. The card left for us in our milk box from our milkman...not even personally addressed to us
2. A card my husband's advisor gave us...this one is legit
3. A shockingly awesome rainbow card from an old college friend and his wife...this thing is so amazing...literally the most awesome Christmas card I've ever seen
4. A photo card from the ear doctor's office mate...who reads every post I ever write but never comments...
5. A picture card we got in the mail of kids we don't know. It was addressed to the previous owners of our house.
6. A card given to us from the people who run the Christmas tree lot where we bought our symbol of the season
7. A thanksgiving card from ear doctor's grandma...what...we needed more cards to fill the shelf...
8. An invitation to a New Years Eve party
Thursday, December 15, 2011
As a result of his stature, my whole life people have been trying to get my dad to be Santa. He'll never say no to someone's request, but according to my mom he really doesn't like it. He doesn't like telling the poor kids that they're going to get everything they want when he knows full well that it probably isn't going to happen. It breaks his correspondingly big heart.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Friday, December 09, 2011
Thursday, December 08, 2011
This year we have someone leaving us little gifts to celebrate the first 12 days of December. The first night the ear doctor got a little zealous in trying to figure out who was leaving us the gifts...he chased them into a neighbor's yard and trapped them in place. I, dramatically, told him to back off so that the people doing this super nice thing could have a little fun.
So since then, we've pulled it way back...and they stopped knocking on the door to announce their deliveries.
But then, on Monday they left us a taunting note saying that they were trickier than we were because we didn't know who they were.
Well, we know we're the craftiest and to taunt us? It's not going to end well.
Last night we decided to leave our solid front door open, but our glass outer door closed. That way if they wanted to try to leave it on our porch they'd have to get creative.
At about 9:30 our dog started going CRAZY. We knew they were here. We waited and watched to see what they would do. I guess they hung around for 20 minutes or so deciding what to do because Roscoe was barking like crazy.
We never saw them, but I peered out the glass door and saw that there was a little gift on the hood of the ear doctor's car. I ran out on my bare tip toes through the snow to retrieve it and came in to the ear doctor talking to someone on the phone.
Our neighbor had noticed a stranger in a hoodie lurking around our house for the last 20 minutes and wanted to make sure everything was OK.
So now, not only is our nice barer of gifts going to have to avoid getting caught by us, but the entire neighborhood watch is on their trail...
...they're never going to make it to December 12th without getting caught...
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
There were about 20 interesting, smart, funny women attending this party. And the best part is that I only knew about half of them.
Have I mentioned that I love meeting new people? I love it. Lately I've been feeling a bit stale and boring, but meeting new people always makes me feel like a million bucks. I can tell them my funniest, best stories and I get to hear brand new things about them.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
I'm in charge of helping lead the spiritual progression of the teenage girls who attend my church. Unfortunately, the numbers of teenage girls attending our congregation has dwindled. In an attempt to bolster our young ladies we've decided to combine our Wednesday evening youth groups with 2 other groups in our local area.
So last night we had about 65 teenagers all come together and play toilet paper dodgeball together.
It was pure and utter insanity.
Instead of hanging out with the same 10 kids I've spent every Wednesday with for the last 2 years I had a whole crop of new kiddos to get to know. My girls were all excited by the new, cute boys and the boys had a new group to play basketball with. At first, the energy was exciting and intoxicating. Meeting new people always amps up my energy; I live for the balance between excitement and anxiety. It was really exciting for me until I realized (again) that I am no longer the target audience for these gatherings. These kids don't see me as a cool slightly older peer, but as the grown-up. The adult.
And if those kids had been just a little bit less over the moon with excitement then I might have felt a little ripped off. A little neglected. A little...separate.
I'm not a youth. That's for sure. But I donn't really seem to fit with the rest of the adults since I don't have kids of my own.
Sitting squarely in limbo is where I found myself as I swept up spilled popcorn kernels and ripped pieces of TP.
Monday, October 10, 2011
First, we slept in....not necessarily a man-exclusive activity, but I've never met a guy who didn't appreciate a nice lazy Saturday morning.
Then, we played Wii for 5 hours. New game on our brand New TV.
Then, we changed out of pajamas and went to get Denver's best pastrami sandwich. I know it is the best pastrami in Denver because my husband has done an exhaustive search of all the options and this, my friends, was the best.
Went home, took a nap while watching True Grit.
Woke up, finished up an easy but infinitely rewarding home improvement task which appropriately covered us in sawdust.
Ordered pizza for dinner and watched the BYU football game.
Rounded out the night with a Aerosmith Guitar Hero jam session.
Thursday, October 06, 2011
It totally made my day.
Note to self: when I think someone nice about someone I should SAY it. It might just make all the difference in their day!
Thursday, September 29, 2011
I have always been a good sleeper. Always. When we were little my parents played a game where they offered a dollar to the kid who fell asleep first. I'm pretty sure I was always the winner...and come to think of it, I was never really reimbursed for my obedience.
Even now, as an adult, I'm a rockstar sleeper. But occasionally something keeps me up.
It's the only thing that can tear me from my dreams, rob me of slumber and motivate me to sit at the dining room table in my underwear signing checks and licking envelopes.
How about you? What keeps you up at night?
Monday, September 19, 2011
And even though our team lost, it was a totally awesome night.
Well, I'll tell you.
After going to a million games and longingly watching the jumbotron filled with happy smiling faces I FINALLY made it up on the screen! Yep! that's right. If you'd been at the game on Saturday night and looked up in the middle of the 8th inning you would have seen the ear doctor and I going crazy because they'd chosen us! US! to do the macarena in public.
This morning at work my coworker asked if I was at the game because he saw a girl who looked just like me on the jumbotron!
Scratch that one off the bucket list!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
There is only one word for what transpired next.
At first I was a it skeptical...could this simple cookie have just changed my life? Could I have found a new favorite confection?
Then I became suspicious that everyone around me wanted to steal it and have it for themselves...
For my whole life I thought these cookies were just normal sugar cookies, but they are so much more than that! They are more like a slice of cake that is easy to eat and covered with beautiful chocolate and perfect icing:
Take a look at that beautiful crumb!
We had one every single day we were in the city and right now as I type this I'm craving another!
Monday, September 12, 2011
One of our first stops was to see ground zero.
I was a little bit overwhelmed by how fresh the events of a decade ago were in the memory of New Yorkers. Fresh and painful. We walked through St. Paul's churchyard and I was totally overwhelmed by the sense of love and support that ordinary people offered...without any kind of government organization helping them out. I found tears silently rolling down my cheeks as I listened to our tour guide tell us how his mother was supposed to go to her job that morning in a gift shop on the 40-something-ith floor and how her 25 year old boss told her to take the morning off. That 25 year old saved his mother's life.
More than the devastating loss that was experienced that morning, I'll remember the pure charity, unselfish devotion, overwhelming unity and unconquerable spirit of hard work that poured our of our nation following the disaster.
At St. Paul's there is a table were you are encouraged to leave your prayers and thoughts. I wrote this on a card and left it there:
"My prayer is that it does not take another disaster to unify us again"
Friday, September 09, 2011
The entire time we were in the city we ate 2 dinners. First dinner usually happened around 6 pm. It was usually at a normal restaurant and in a normal setting. Then we went out and found something fun to do or see and around 10 we were hungry again. This is when second dinner occurred. Sometimes it was 3 huge desserts we shared, sometimes it was piping hot pizza fresh from the oven.
One night after second dinner we were riding the subway back to our hotel. The train was filled with the usual interesting array of people. People chatting, reading, staring off into space, singing along to their ipod, whatever. We pulled up to a stop and an elderly gentleman boarded the train. He took his place standing in the middle of the car, even though there were plenty of empty seats. As soon as the train started he looked around the car, slowly lifted his hand and proceeded to flip off the entire car.
He kept his hand raised and slowly spun on his heel, making sure that everyone in the car had the chance to take in his totally unprovoked message.
The next stop came and he got off the train.
The ear doctor decided that he was probably upset with the fact that the platforms were unbearably hot (underground, no ventilation, 85 degree days and 80% humidity) and the trains were all running slow from construction on the lines.
Considering that, I am inclined to add a nod of agreement to the gentleman's outward expression of frustration.
Thursday, September 08, 2011
One morning we were sitting on a bench looking at a subway map (my favorite pass time) and trying to chart our course to the closest shake shack. It was early and getting warm. People were out walking their dogs. One guy was on a jog and reached into the pocket of his gym shorts to pull out a piece of paper. Suddenly, a huge wad of cash spilled out of his pocket. The wind caught the errant bills and started blowing them all over.
I expected people to either totally ignore this guy's plight or to bend over and scoop up a bill for themselves.
The total opposite happened.
Every single person in the surrounding area ran around collecting this guys money. People jumped out into the street for a $1 bill. People across the street, on the next block even scooped up the cash and trotted over to return the money to it's rightful owner.
It was the final little push I needed to help me fall head over heels in love with the city.
Wednesday, September 07, 2011
And is there any better way to document a great trip than through self portraits? I think not.
Thursday, September 01, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
When I moved to Colorado 8 years ago I met this really awesome, funny, beautiful girl. I found out she was a hair stylist and gladly cut people's hair in her kitchen. Well, I was new and didn't want to put the effort into finding a salon. Plus, I 've never really been that picky about my haircut.
So I sat in her chair for the first time...and have never looked back.
She is probably the most talented hair stylist I've ever been to. Usually when you get a cute cut and time passes it starts to look a little raggedy. I don't know what it is, but every time she cuts my hair, as time goes by it just looks better and better.
And I love the fact that we've stayed close enough that I can come over and get my hair cut, then have dinner with her family, then play in the grass with her two little boys (4 and 2). Who else gets that kind of special treatment from their stylist?
Monday, August 29, 2011
But I just couldn't help myself.
We're only in the city for a few days and there are so many things to see and do that I would hate to get there and spend time schlepping around and looking at each other and asking what we should see next. Or even worse, end up eating at some crappy chain restaurant because we didn't take the time to find somewhere amazing to eat. That would be a real tragedy in my book.
So here it is, our plan for the trip. I know it seems a bit detailed, but that's what happens when my type A personality gets a hold of a spreadsheet. Our tickets are purchased and our reservations are made. The good thing about me is that the moment a trip begins my red personality morphs to yellow and I have no problem dropping the schedule entirely.
Is there anything totally awesome that we've missed in our exhaustive research? Something we MUST add to our trip?
Friday, August 26, 2011
In an attempt to convey my excitement I'm doing to do a series about how we're getting ready.
This morning the ear doctor and I decided that we're going to start practicing talking like native New Yorkers. Unfortunately, the most exposure we have to real New York dialogue comes mainly from Seinfeld and movies featuring Brooklyn Mobsters.
So this morning there was a whole lot of "yadda, yadda, yadda" and "fogetaboutit" goin on in our house.
Clearly, we need help.
What other lingo should we be practicing to avoid standing out like the country bumpkins that we are?
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
But yesterday as I was sitting there at my usual table I looked up and made eye contact with an elderly gentlemen. I was about to politely look away, when I noticed the corners of his mouth turn up. Then he gave me the most perfect wink I've ever seen.
It wasn't creepy and it wasn't paternal in the slightest. It was flattering and I actually felt myself blush the tiniest bit.
What is it about the men of the greatest generation? They effortlessly wear a fedora without any of the pretense that radiates off most 20-something hipsters who attempt to don the accessory. They seem strong, independent, honest, real.
Or maybe it's just that my own grandpa is an amazing man, and I transfer my perception of him onto every like-aged gentlemen I see?
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
I'd cocooned myself on our big leather couch with pillows stacked up to either ear, my feet propped up and my body covered with rumpled, yellow-and-brown plaid, poor quality work.
And I was feisty.
The weird thing about me is that sometimes when I'm feeling feisty I don't even know it. My emotions work about 3 times faster than my reason.
So when the ear doctor walked in the door and started asking me what was wrong I snapped at him. I unintentionally ignored him. I finish unpicking my seams, tossed my seeming failure of creation aside and went to look at my garden. Which is FULL of weeds. And the tomato plant that is actually producing fruit had slumped off it's cage and those green little beauties were sitting in the mud. After stomping around the garden a few time I came in and was enraged by the dishes we'd left linger in the sink from the day before. I testily grabbed the scrubber and started tackling the pile.
And the ear doctor through this? Looked at me like I was insane. Probably because I was. My brain had yet to catch up with my temper. When he, again, kindly asked what was wrong with me I totally lost my mind. I was mean to my sweetheart. I was snarling for about 3 minutes...until I looked up at his perfectly sky blue eyes and my brain caught up to my soul.
I wasn't mad at him at all. I was stressed out with my job and defensive because I knew I was taking my fury out on the one person in the world who never deserves that. And I started hysterically laughing at myself.
Two minutes later I was sobbing in his arms and apologizing for the mismatch in timing from my heart to my head.
I ate some dinner and put myself to bed early.
And at 3 in the morning when I couldn't fall to sleep I decided it was the perfect time wage an epic steamroller battle.
Do you know the game steamroller?
Anyway, the point is that I'm learning to work out the timing between my emotions and my reason. Trying to feel slower and think faster.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Simply put: he is amazing and made my birthday perfect.
Friday afternoon we went out for lunch at my very favorite sandwich spot in Denver. Fantastic. Their hot ham and swiss is so melty and delicious that juice runs down my chin every time. Then, we packed up and headed to the mountains. He'd found us the cutest little cabin tucked beside a pond up in the beautiful Rocky Mountains above Idaho Springs. We fished, caught big beautiful rainbow trout and grilled them up for dinner. We watched the sun go down and he brought out a little, adorable lemon curd cake and sang me happy birthday.
Saturday morning we slept in. The first thing I did when I woke up was run over to my phone to see if anyone had already called and left a message on my phone. It was then that I realized my phone was totally dead and I'd forgotten the charger! TRAGEDY! My birthday is the one day a year I keep that phone with me all day and answer all the incoming well-wishing calls.Bummer.
We packed up our stuff and headed farther up the mountain to Echo Lake. This place was beautiful. Stunning. If you haven't been to Colorado before and want the full experience, go here. It is breathtaking. We drove up the highest paved road in North America to the top of Mt. Evans which stands at 14,240 feet. It was at the top of this mountain that he handed me a letter he'd written. A letter expressing his heart.
Then, he handed me a letter written by my mom.
Then one from my dad.
Then he explained that he'd hacked into my email account and send out emails to most of my close friends and family asking them to write me a letter telling me what they thought about me. All day long he kept handing me letter after letter from people I love most in this entire world. Each one brought laughter and tears. Seriously, I don't think I've ever felt more love.
I slid each one into a plastic protector in a beautiful green album.
It is something I will CHERISH for the rest of my life. One of the 4 things I will grab if my house is ever on fire.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
I was surrounded by moms with strollers and elderly retired couples. There were teenagers on dates and groups of girls shopping for cheap clothes.
And I sat alone enjoying my spinach salad quite contentedly. Well, the salad was bit overdressed and for $7.50 I had hoped for a few more blue cheese crumbles.
I was really pretty perfectly happy until I decided to aspirate the balsamic fig dressing. Vinegar trying to make it's way into your lungs? Not a great feeling.
As I started coughing and hacking I looked around to make sure I wasn't bothering someone.
And guess what? No one even glanced my way!
I wonder if those happy lunch goers would have let me DIE sitting right there in the middle of the crowded dining room?
The thought was really creepy...and it made me remember why I don't really like eating at Noodles & Co.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
I freakin love Kraft singles.
I love their slightly rubbery texture, their over salted flavor and I take great joy in peeling off that clingy plastic. Now, don't get me wrong, I love a good fancy cheese too...but the kraft singles will always hold a place in my heart.
When we were little my parents bought my sister and I the cheese. We would sneak slices all day long and thought my mom never knew about our pilfered prize...because we stuffed the plastic wrappers between the cushions of the couch.
When she sat in that chair and heard the tell-tale crinkle of plastic wrappers her brains exploded. She ripped the couch apart and picked out every single piece of greasy plastic.
Kraft singles were banned in our house from that moment forward.
Friday, July 15, 2011
He and his wife went away for a long weekend to celebrate their anniversary and the morning he got back to work they told him not to come in anymore.
I would totally freak out if this happened to me. I know it's always a possibility, but it just seems crazy to have your security just uprooted so dramatically. To his credit, he's totally taking it like a champ. For the last week he has been a stay at home dad, taking care of their 10 month old baby 24 hours a day.
On Wednesday his wife told me that he was totally going crazy. She asked the ear doctor if he could take her husband golfing this morning. And, since the ear doctor is really great at service and sacrifice he rearranged his schedule and was up bright and early this morning organizing his golf bag and cleaning out his soft spiked shoes.
Instead of getting to go out to the links, I had to haul my sorry buns to work.
To make it worse, my commute takes me right by a huge reservoir where people were out water skiing on glassy water.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Up until last week I was totally fine with the idea of turning 30 next week. Excited even.
But this week, as I calm my mind and lay in my big fluffy bed attempting to fall asleep a little bit of dread washes over me.
How did that happen.
And why do I still feel like I'm 22? Will I always feel that old?
Maybe it's because I haven't had a baby yet?
How old do you feel?
Thursday, June 30, 2011
The performers, however, were a little...well...not what your average 15 year old girl wants to listen to. It was a "band" of 3 brothers singing traditional Irish songs. None of us knew any of the songs so we just kind of listened and giggled and made fun of the lead singer's long stringy man-ponytail.
Half way through the performance one of the girls got up and started crazy hippie dancing to the songs. So we all followed along. It was hilarious, but I wanted to make sure the girls felt free to be silly. I wanted them to let their self-consciousness go and realize that no one cares how you look. So I acted a bit of a fool. I felt like I was a 16 year old girl hanging out with my friends.
The concert drew to a close and the band struck up for it's final number. Within the first few bars I knew we were in for a treat. I would walk 500 miles by The Proclaimers. A song I will always know. A song that brings me squarely to my middle school days. I remember being 13 years old and getting that song on a movie soundtrack compilation disk. I remember having my friends over to my house, putting the disk in the computer drive, turning off all the lights in the office and jumpdancing around the room with flashlights. Over and over and over again until we were sweaty and doubled over with laughter-induced stomach cramps.
And so when I looked around and realized that not a single one of the girls that was with me last night had ever heard the song before I just shook my head in awe.
And realized that, yes, I will be turning 30 next month...and it's beginning to show.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
A break from thinking and feeling and being frustrated and being anxious and being nervous.
So I put my old gross crocs, an old beat up pair of shorts and went out to harvest food out of my garden. Someone in my neighborhood must be feeding the birds like crazy because there are about 100 times more birds trying to eat my salad greens than there ever have been. As a result we draped netting over the top of my garden. So now, when I go in I have to crawl on all fours to stay under the bird netting.
At first I thought having to crawl around would be totally horrible. I thought it would hurt my back and scrape up my knees.
But guess what? I totally love it. It reminds me of the tent that my sister got for her birthday one year. It had a fitted sheet on the bottom so you could make it right on top of your mattress and always feel like you are sleeping in a cave.
It reminds me of when I was 10 and would climb into the closet under the stairs to read the Chronicles of Narnia by the light of my favorite pink flashlight.
It reminds me of climbing into my 4 year old niece Charlotte's pink princess tent while we play make believe.
Turns out that almost every memory I have of crawling into small places is warm and familiar and friendly.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Did you know that the traditional gift to give your spouse for the 4th anniversary is linen or silk? Usually we try to honor the tradition in some way, but this year I totally dropped the ball. Which is a total bummer because the ear doctor could have really used a new maroon silk smoking jacket and coordinating ascot...
This year my husband got me milk delivery from a honest-to-goodness milk man. From now on, when I wake up on Friday mornings I'll be able to go out to my porch, open up that shiny metal box and find perfect, fresh, hormone-free dairy products and eggs produced by animals that actually live in my own state.
How does this tie in with the traditional 4th year anniversary gift? Well, he got a carton of Silk (soy milk), emptied it out, cut a trap door in the back of the carton and glued the logo of the dairy that delivers to our neighborhood on the inside. I knew immediately what that meant.
Before he gave me the gift, he tried to explain it to some people. They just didn't understand what could possibly be romantic about giving someone diary delivery for their anniversary. They thought he should be getting a box of Godiva chocolates and a couple dozen long stemmed roses or something.
But Godiva chocolates once made me spend a weekend wracked with uncontrollable vomit and roses, to me, are more of a flower meant to stay in the garden.
Romance, to me, is knowing your spouse so well that you know exactly what will totally knock their socks off. Which for me? Is totally a milk man.
I thought you'd never ask!
We sat on the bridge, ate cake, danced to the same song as our "first dance" (I've got a crush on you).
I love this guy like CRAZY!
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Last night I got off work late because I had to stay and attend a really frustrating meeting. I stopped by the market to get some fish for dinner and a pre-made salad. It was just one of those nights.
We made the dinner and I could literally feel the stress rolling off my back. By the time I was sopping up the delicious buttery fish oil from my plate with a chewy slice of sourdough I was ready to laugh.
We spent a hour playing keep away from the dog with an old chewed up basketball. We laid in our pretty green grass that just months ago was a bare patch of dead dirt. We decided to grab the leash and walk the dog 2 blocks away to our favorite gelato place. We sat on a bench and enjoyed zabaglione (which I pronounce as zag-a-ba-lonie) and raspberry sorbet.
At which point the ear doctor turned to me and said, "let's go home and watch Harry and the Hendersons"
A perfect way to spend the evening before we celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
These particular friends have the most beautiful little puppy. A vizsla. The puppy and I have almost the same color hair. They love their little puppy more than anyone I've ever met loves their dog and because she happens to be a pretty perfect specimen of the breed, they've decided to start showing her.
And I didn't know this, but when you show dogs you can't get them spayed.
Which means that sometimes your dog has her period.
Which is why last night their puppy was wearing a pink plaid flannel diaper with a jumbo maxi-pad slid inside.
Maybe you're more used to seeing a dog wearing a diaper...but I sure wasn't. All I could think of was how gross it would be to take care of a dog during her "time of the year" (which I found out only really happens every 6 months or so)
And I thought, "I'd never do something gross like that for a DOG"
That was, of course, until this morning when my dog had a long gross piece of grass coming out of his butt hole that he couldn't shake loose.
What did I do? I put my hand inside the poo bag, got a grip of the piece of grass and pulled the long slippery thing out of him.
I didn't even hesitate.
Who's the gross one now?
Monday, June 13, 2011
The whole time I just sat there totally enthralled with the story telling. About 8 minutes into the movie the ear doctor turned to me and said, "this is like Goonies" and I said, "or the Sandlot." Both of which are probably in my top 20 movies of all time.
I literally gasped a couple of times at the beautiful camera work: the reflection in the gas, the slow closeup on the soldiers shuffling boots, the turn of the gas station sign obscuring our view of what exactly was going on.
And the music choices for the movie? Perfect. I left the theater singing My Sharona out loud, thus making the sweet abuelita standing with me in the bathroom line just a little bit nervous.
Let's not even talk about how great the costumes and hair were.
I totally nerded out over the whole thing and it made me think two thoughts. First, I MUST get myself a Super8 camera. How great are those old grainy images?!?!Second, I'm so glad I used those 3 credit hours of undergrad taking Intro to Film. I probably never would have noticed the beauty without taking that class.
Thursday, June 09, 2011
She said I would love falafel...but I just couldn't wrap my head around eating garbanzo beans...or chick peas as my mom taught me.
I've tried hummus in all it's myrid of forms and found it gross and grainy and completely unpalatable.
But, falafel? COMPLETELY different. Divine. Wonderful.
Thursday, June 02, 2011
She's closing the door on the perfect little 100 year old row house that they shed blood sweat and tears over to renovate from top to bottom in just 3 years. She's saying goodbye to the amazing friends who loved and supported her for the last 4 years...probably the hardest 4 of her life. She's taking off and driving north without knowing if they'll have a house to live in when they get there.
And while I know she's probably excited for the next phase of her life, I can't help but be a little bit heartbroken for her today.
The day we pack up our little house and move away is going to rip my heart in two.
Neither of us were really built for change.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
And I was getting pretty bummed that I was sitting in my cubical, in rainy, cold, gloomy Denver, working crazy long hours and missing out.
So I went to weather.com and checked was it was like in Orlando.
Over 90 degrees...yikes!
Then I imagined how I'd feel if I were in Orlando, in 90 degree weather, holding my 2 year old nephew's little heater body while we stand on hard black pavement waiting in line to meet Lightning McQueen....
...and I felt a tad better about missing the fun.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Probably because we didn't water it all summer?
This year we have both become grass-loving freaks. We water the grass. We fertilize the grass. We had it aerated which it probably hadn't been in 20 years. We mulched. We reseeded the thin spots.
Every time we walk through the front yard (at least twice a day) we crouch down and inspect the new growth. We measure the progress. I'm pretty sure I've even said a prayer under my breath to ask for divine intervention in saving the grass.
It's our newest obsession.
Even now as I sit in my cubical at work and eat my lunch at my desk I'm taking glances out the nearby window and thinking, "I really hate that it's raining today. I wore awesome new shoes and they got gross water spots all over them when I walked the 30 feet from my car to the building...
...but at least the grass will look beautiful"
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Because I've never once had my picture taken the day BEFORE a trip.
Never once been immortalized in that moment.
So today if you looked at my clothes I'm pretty sure you could tell that at 3:30 this afternoon the ear doctor and I are boarding a plane and flying off to St. Louis to celebrate my brother-in-law's fantastic achievement. He's worked harder and sacrificed a lot and is finally getting to take the Hippocratic oath and graduate from med school.
I couldn't be prouder.
And I get one last trip to St. Louis in before they move away and I never have another excuse to visit the city again. There are 3 absolute musts that I will be participating in this week...other than the ceremony, of course:
1. Gooey butter cake from either ]Park Avenue coffee or Gooey Louie...or maybe both
2. City Museum
3. Frozen Custard from Ted Drewes
Usually I wouldn't post about going away on a trip and leave the creepers on the internet an open invitation to check out our house, but since we got robbed a month ago and haven't replaced anything yet we really don't have anything worth stealing!
Monday, May 16, 2011
I just looked around and was a little amazed at what I now considered a fun Friday night out.
Saturday morning I spent the whole morning at work desperately trying to get a jump on the week.
Then I drove myself over to a friend's house for a graduation party. That party was a lot less likely to produce a crazy symphonic talent show, but i did find out about half way into the party that 3 of the 4 people living at the party house had just been diagnosed with strep throat the day before.
At which point I stopped eating from the big bowl of help-yourself-with-your-bar-hands ruffles and started feeling the back of my neck to check for any signs of immediate onset fever.
Sunday I spent the whole day laying around on the couch in my new favorite sweatpants from Walmart. I was attempting to recover from the midnight puke session I had the chance to experience brought on by whatever rotten thing I consumed the day before.
Try not to be super jealous of my life...
Thursday, May 12, 2011
It was so funky around here at work that someone actually yelled at me, stormed out of a conference room and slammed the door behind himself so hard the walls shook.
So funky that I dropped a huge glop of guacamole on my pants during lunch and I had to wear the stain the rest of the day.
I'm telling you, EVERYONE was feeling the funk. After work I started getting a flurry of texts and calls asking about our regularly occurring Wednesday night youth group activity. The other leaders were tired, had grumpy babies or had to drive all over town to get things for their new house. The idea of trying to cheerleader a bunch of likewise funky-attituded teenage girls seemed about as daunting as summiting Mt Everest.
But we just couldn't cancel on our teens. So, I altered my plan for the night.
Luckily, I had read Designmom recently and her awesome daughter reminded me how awesome it is to learn to make friendship bracelets.
So with the last ounce of energy in my soul I went to the craft store, bought 3 dollars worth of embroidery floss and pulled off a miracle. A fun activity for teenage girls with zero planning involved.
Blogs saved my life last night.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Roscoe wanted some BAD!
Monday, May 09, 2011
Fact: My shoulder is still not healed from my accident almost a month ago. I can't use it to reach around my back and grab my towel to dry my back so I just kind of throw it across my body and hope that my skin gets dry enough to pull clothes on. Oh, and I can't really pull up my pants with both hands. And trying to push myself up off the floor with that hand? Impossible.
Saturday morning we decided to dedicate our precious free time to landscaping. A few weeks ago I got a little crazy with the round-up...killing our perfectly fine front lawn in spots so I could plant a whole row of pretty pink Peonies.
See? I'm a total blogger. I love peonies.
I couldn't stand one more day of ugly dead grass staring back at me whenever I walked up to my front porch, so we rented a tiller, bought bags of compost and got to work.
But I was really no help at all. I defeatedly asked my husband to lift, haul and perform all the hard manual labor while I sat my butt in the dirt and attempted to pull year old dead grass out of a chain-link fence with my left hand. I was useless. And really, really frustrated.
I love to work hard in my yard and I consider it one of the best traits my parents bestowed upon me. But I just felt oppressed by my shoulder.
And I was even more annoyed and frustrated in the middle of the night when I had to wake up and soak in a tub to soothe my screaming muscles.
Turns out recovery is every bit as hard as everyone promised it would be.
Friday, May 06, 2011
When our house was robbed, my DSLR was stolen. And as much as I loved my old one, it isn't being made anymore. So now I have to pick what model I want to go with. I've narrowed it down to two options that are basically the same price...the Nikon D31oo and the Sony a33. They both seem like great options, but I just can't decide which I want.
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
If your last name is Schitter you should probably think twice about politics. You just should.
Half of me wonders if my neighbors put this in their lawn as a joke.
PS. Yes, I totally sneaked out early this morning to take a picture of my neighbor's front yard. I asked the ear doctor to come with me on my clandestine photography mission and this was his selected footgear for the operation:
Good thing no high speed chases ensued.
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
And I'm really lucky to have the ear doctor. Without him I would have eaten PB&J and macaroni and cheese for the last month.
Last night he not only grilled me up the most delicious lime-cilantro trout with his new fish grilling basket, but he also indulged my silly craving for a root beer at 9 pm. And when he got home from the "emergency" run to the grocery store, not only did he have an icy cold beverage in his hand, but he'd got us a container of cookies n cream ice cream.
So as I sat in a piping hot bathtub, read a murder mystery on my kindle and slowly sipped my soda I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the guy in the front room loudly chuckling to a 15 year old episode of Seinfeld that he's seen at least 8 times.
Monday, April 25, 2011
It was the first day in 9 days that I really did my hair...but I still couldn't shave my legs so I wore a long skirt and just hoped that people at church were kind enough to look the other direction.
We were invited to a friend's house for dinner and I managed to bake the most perfect lemon meringue pie...an Easter classic in my mother's house. I managed to basically make it with one hand. The hostess said it was the best pie she'd ever had in her life and my husband said it was the best crust I've ever made.
Then I spent the entire evening laying around on the couch recovering from the great effort it took to do the above two items and eating jelly beans.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Also, I've never really been hurt this seriously before. Sure I fell out of a tree when I was 10 and had to wear a neck brace and I slipped once in the tub, spraining my ankle and necessitating crutches. But this kind of all over, body and brain numbing pain? I never knew it until now.
Which is probably why I'm still surprised after a week of basically going to work and sleeping I'm still not healed. I'm still dragging...still limping...still wincing.
But there is a bright side.
2 weeks ago, the day before we left for our family spring break our house was robbed. I was sitting at my desk trying to tie up loose ends on a Friday before vacation when I got a call from the Denver police department. The officer informed me that our cute, perfect, cozy little home had been forcefully entered and our valuables pilfered.
I was in shock.
Visions of our dog being hurt or running away filled my mind and tears filled my eyes as I cut off the kind officer and asked out our little boxer-boy.
Turns out the thieves had come in through his doggie door, locked him in a room in the basement and took off with our beautiful new flat screen TV, our Wii, all our games (except Tiger Woods...strange), my lovely DSLR camera and some heirloom jewelry that the ear doctor's grandmother had given to him to give to me in the future.
What a hassle. We have to arrange with our home owners insurance now to get estimates and reimbursements for all the stuff they took.
But you know what, I am so filled with gratitude that the intruders only took material things. They didn't ruin our house or hurt our dog.
And most especially, they didn't even touch our lovely, expensive big comfy brown leather couch.
And since this week I've pretty much been living on that couch while I recover from my ATV accident I can say for a fact that things could be so, SO much worse for me right now.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
I've lived almost 30 years of my life without finding a need to wear perforated fabric.
Last weekend I was in a pretty horrible ATV accident. One minute I was cruising down a dirt road, the wind in my face. The next I was sitting in a hospital bed, hours later with my mom softly smoothing my furrowed brow and sipping water from a plastic straw.
I was informed that I'd rolled the machine, bit a huge chunk out of my tongue, split my motocross helmet in two, wrenched my shoulder, bruised my hip and road burned my knee.
X-rays were taken and prayers were said. I am so lucky to first, be alive, second, be awake and alert and third, be surrounded by family who loves me.
5 days after my accident all I have to show is a really cool gray mesh sling, bleeding scabby knee and ringing headache.
Friday, April 08, 2011
It's just really complex issue and it seems like it's just a big land mine and it seems like, between voting times, there's nothing I can personally do about it.
But today I'm going to say something because I'm so totally annoyed by this shutting down the government business. My brother is coming all the way from LONDON to see me next week. I'd planned a really awesome road trip including stopping at 2 different national parks that I've ALWAYS wanted to see. And now they just aren't going to be open? What the crap? That's absurd.
Figure it out.
Learn to compromise.
Get together and stop ruining my SPRING BREAK!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
I noticed that the front door is almost exactly the same as our front door, so I sent it to the ear doctor. Plus I really think that couch is pretty rad.
The ear doctor responded with this comment, "What’s that girl doing in our house with her ugly dog?!!!!" (he's not a big fan of fluffy girly dogs)
To which I responded, "She’s our new neighbor who wants to go for a wine tasting and wear rubber boots even though it's not raining. We should take the old gross horseshoe out of the garage and nail it to the wall in our dining room."
To which he responded, "Did she ride her cruiser bike that has a abnormally large wire basket on the front for her hideous dog over to our house on a Sunday afternoon for a mimosa brunch on 32nd and Lowell (a very trendy spot in our neighborhood fully of awesome restaurants and hipsters)? Are the rubber boots plaid? Is she wearing a scarf when it’s 80 degrees outside? Does she also have a huge beanie that she wears so that it’s only partially covering her head/hair? Does she love tea?"
And that, my friends, is why my husband is not a blogger...
Monday, March 28, 2011
- The ear doctor loves me...fully, unconditionally
- I love my house because it's not just the structure that shelters me from the unexpected snow storm that happened this morning, but because it is my home
- I am so blessed that it shocks and humbles me like nothing else
Friday, March 25, 2011
This morning we skyped with her and she was so excited from opening presents and wired from eating mapley-syrupy-pancake-birthday-cake that she couldn't sit still. Her body was literally vibrating with joy.
And I love that I could actually see that...thanks to Skype.
oh, skype, how i love thee.
But there is something that I just can't stand about it, and I have drawn up a diagram to help me explain my slight frustration:
When my eyes are looking at the image of my loved one they are pointed slightly down because the camera is offset from the skype window on the screen. So I feel like my connection to the person on the other end suffers. In an attempt to make sure they know I'm listening to them, I move my eyes from looking at them on the screen and stare straight into the camera.
But then I sometimes miss seeing their expression change in response to what I'm saying.
And that bugs.
Am I taking crazy pills? Anyone else relate? What do you do? Just live with it?
Thursday, March 24, 2011
I thought it would be easy because I picked up pre-made dough and pizza sauce from whole foods and had a mountain of pre-shredded cheese.
I thought the fact that there were two ovens and pizza stones at 500 degrees would make the whole activity seamless.
About 10 minutes into the event I realized this was NOT going to be easy.
Cheese was flying everywhere.
There was so much cornmeal on the ground I kept slipping and sliding while holding piping hot pans.
The pizza makers didn't know how to stretch, or roll out dough. They got crazy with the toppings so they looked more like towers of pepperoni than nice flat food.
After about 47 minutes of furiously slinging a jillion small pizzas into and out of the oven one of my favorite little 12 year old girls came over, gave me a hug and said, "Katie....you look really tired"
At which point I wanted to melt into a puddle, cry and say, "yes, yes, I'm EXHAUSTED!"
But instead I just turned around and pulled 3 more almost fully cooked sauce covered dough balls from the oven.
It's official....I would never make a good Pizza Hut employee. There goes that dream....
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Yesterday the ear doctor found out some pretty crappy news. The grant application he wrote last year to get his dissertation funded didn't even get READ by the committee who reviews them. It was quite the blow to our little family.
So, in order to cheer my man up I decided to take him to one of those Brazilian steak houses for dinner. The kind of place where guys in funny pants walk around with meat on swords and make you feel bad if you say that you're full and can't possibly eat another mouthful of beef without exploding.
Dinner was awesome...but the hours of food poising I've experienced since have been less than joyful.
So now the ear doctor feels doubly bad that he didn't get the grant AND his special dinner caused me a special morning of laying on our bathroom rug.
I told him that my problems weren't his fault...it's those @%$*% gauchos!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
What is it, you ask?
Morning dance party.
Both yesterday and today the ear doctor and I played a rockin tune and danced for approximately 3.5 minutes before I rushed out the door to join the rest of the rat race.
This morning the jam was MJ's Rock With You.
I'm not really sure why, but that short interlude with my man, my dog jumping 3 feet in the air to join in the fun and the king of pop made this day seem not only managable, but really fun and exciting.
Do you have any tricks to help the day seem brighter?
Monday, March 14, 2011
I made it through the day, but at 3 am on Sunday morning I'd had enough. I finally caved at took a Benedryl. The split second before that sweet little pink and white capsule passed my lips I thought, "this might make getting to church on time a challenge..."
And it did.
The ear doctor attempted to wake me up at 9:45 (for our 10 o'clock service) and I felt like a surgery patient fully alert, but trapped in the drugged web of anesthesia. I couldn't make my body move.
So at 10:30 when the drugs wore off I threw on a dress and made my way to our building.
I probably shouldn't have been driving.
I spent 90% of the remainder of the service staring off in space and giggling at how the speaker said the word prayer funny. She really emphasised that the word had two syllables. Pray-ER, pray-ER, pray-ER. Hilarious stuff when you're stoned.
So when, at the end of church, I was sitting by myself trying to detox I didn't find it strange when someone in my congregation approached me and began to express her condolences on my recent infertility. She went on to tell me that her daughter was also having a hard time getting pregnant and how it took her years to start having babies.
I just kind of looked up at her with glassy eyes and said, "I'm not trying to get pregnant at all"
And, at the time, I wasn't phased at her response when she said, "oh really? I thought I'd heard somewhere that you were trying and couldn't get pregnant..."
But now I'm super annoyed.