Growing up my parents always got a ton of Christmas cards from their friends. I remember how my mom displaying them for the entire month of December. I can imagine it made her feel awesome to know so many people cared enough about us to spend a quarter and send us a family update.
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
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Ho Ho Ho
I have a confession....I'm only really attracted to strong looking guys. Probably because my dad is a big guy. There is nothing more comforting that falling asleep on his side during church. It's the most safe, snugly feeling in the world. In my dad's world, the worst name you can call someone is a pencil neck.
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.
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.
But I just can't tell you how awesome it is to see your dad dressed up as Santa....
Do you think that since he was one of Santa's helpers this year that he has a direct like to the REAL Santa Claus? If so, dad, please tell that guy up North that I'd love for him to fix the horrible crack in my windshield and/or buy me a double sink for the bathroom from IKEA for Christmas...
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Back in the saddle
Remember how I kind of stopped blogging for a while? I just couldn't get excited about writing anything. My life seemed ho hum. People kept asking why I wasn't writing and it was really hard to put my finger on anything.
I was just uninspired.
I was just uninspired.
A week or so ago the ear doctor and I were driving to a friend's house for a party. As we turned the corner onto her street my eyes fell on the most beautiful, awe inspiring sight:
I'm not sure that picture really does this justice. These people had constructed a set of rigging to hold this HUGE snowman up in the air. You could see this guy's top hat from 3 blocks away. I attempted to scale it to give you a feeling of just how amazing this accomplishment of festive engineering really is:
An almost 60 foot snowman perched on top of a cute 50's ranch house? Now, THAT, is something to blog about.
Friday, December 09, 2011
Tis the season
We've been getting about a million catalogs in the past 2 weeks. Most are pretty predictable...Jcrew, Crate and Barrel, Boden.
However, we got one that really got the ear doctor excited...Filson:
This place is like Eddie Bauer on crack. Everything the outdoor sportsman could ever dream of. This catalog is filled with stuff that my husband already has (the skeletool in the center):
Something he would probably consider buying to keep our dog warm on camping trips so he doesn't have to sleep inside the sleeping bag with one of us:
And when he decides to pick up his newest hobby of falconry I'll know exactly where to look for gifts...
Thanks Filson, for making all the ear doctor's wildest dreams come true.
Thursday, December 08, 2011
festive hijinks
Last April our house was broken into and our TV stolen. It shook up the whole neighborhood and as a result we got to know our neighbors, exchange numbers and we always keep an each other.
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...
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
Spoils
Last night I went to an ornament exchange party hosted by a good friend. She asked me to come early, so I did. I helped her cut fudge and layout food. I helped her arrange chairs and open the door for guests.
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.
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.
And to top it off, I ended up getting the best ornament in the bunch...a blue wool whale with a big wide smile across his little face.
It doesn't get much better than that.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
in between
Last night we had our first combined youth group meeting.
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.
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
An official new holiday
Saturday was the first gray, cold, wet day of fall in Colorado. We decided to celebrate the turn of the season by having MAN DAY.
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.
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
Personal reminder
Today my coworker complimented my outfit and then said that she thought I always looked so great and had the cutest clothes.
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!
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
Midnight musings
Today my littler sister wrote a really great post about what keeps her up at night. She's pregnant with #3 right now, so most of her nocturnal worries center on the welfare of her little ones.
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.
Money.
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?
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.
Money.
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
One down
Saturday night our friends treated us to free club level tickets at the Rockies game. Usually, I don't really like baseball, but this weekend it was perfect. It wasn't unbearably hot and at the club level the chairs are farther apart and you have a waiter that will bring you food so you don't have to bother the people on the end of the row getting up and down.
And even though our team lost, it was a totally awesome night.
Why?
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.
Even cooler?
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!
And even though our team lost, it was a totally awesome night.
Why?
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.
Even cooler?
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
Favorite NY moment #4
After we'd spent a few hours strolling around the MET we needed a little sugary energy infusion. So, upon the advice of the lovely Sharon, we strolled a couple of blocks over to William Greenberg Desserts. We bought two black and whites and couple of cans of diet coke.
There is only one word for what transpired next.
Nirvana.
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!
There is only one word for what transpired next.
Nirvana.
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
Favorite NY moment #3
The first day we were in the city we decided to go on a REAL TOUR of NY. I have to say, I was a bit nervous it would be super touristy and I would regret spending my cash. I was totally wrong. It was awesome. Small group, funny guide, awesome hole in the wall dim sum place that we never would have found for dinner...all in all awesome.
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:
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
Favorite NY moment #2
OK, just to preface this. What happened isn't exactly my "favorite" experience in the world, but it just seemed so perfectly iconic New York that I couldn't resist sharing it.
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.
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
Favorite NY moment #1
All I've ever heard is how New Yorkers, and east coasters in general, are a bit cold. Somehow I got a stereotype into my head that they are a bit rude, unfriendly and pushy.
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.
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
Photo Series
I can't tell you how much we loved our trip to New York. People always talk about how great the city is, but I never really got it. I've been to big cities and liked them, but I've officially joined the I (heart) N Y bandwagon.
And is there any better way to document a great trip than through self portraits? I think not.
And is there any better way to document a great trip than through self portraits? I think not.
Times Square
The Met
New Amsterdam Theater
Statue of Liberty
Ellis Island
Ferry Ride
Moma
Brooklyn Bridge
Birthday Cake in our hotel
30 Rock
Thursday, September 01, 2011
New York trip prep day 4
The ear doctor and I brainstormed songs all about New York to create a mix tape.
We then went out and found a ghetto blaster.
We plan to bump those tunes all through the streets of NY.
CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OF!!!!!!
We then went out and found a ghetto blaster.
We plan to bump those tunes all through the streets of NY.
CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OF!!!!!!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
New York trip prep day 3
Monday afternoon I went over to my friend's house to get my hair cut in preparation for the trip.
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?
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
New York trip prep day 2
I told myself that I would attempt to cool it on the scheduling of this trip. I have been known to over plan a vacation and not allow any free moments for relaxation or spontaneity.
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?
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
New york trip prep day 1
In one week the ear doctor and I will be leaving for our trip to New York and I am R-E-A-L-L-Y excited. There are very few things I love more in life than being away from work with my best friend doing things we've never done before.
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?
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
Age appropriate
Yesterday afternoon I was sitting in Panera eating my lunch alone at a table for two. I do this about once a week. Unlike 14 year old Katie now I actually really enjoy sitting by myself in a crowded lunchroom. I like to watch the elderly couples consume their bowls of soup and enjoy the comfortable silence that only people who've lived together for 60 years can create. I like to watch the young moms attempt to wrangle their toddlers and convince themselves that the $5 peanut butter and jelly sandwich that sits uneaten doesn't annoy the crap out of them. I like to see the other people like me, taking a break from work, eating a meal alone.
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?
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
Getting the timing right
Last night when the ear doctor came home I was sitting on the couch, watching Rizzoli and Isles unpicking 3 seams. I've been working on creating a masterpiece of a dress and it just wasn't coming out right. The gathers were all uneven, the plaid pattern wasn't matching up perfectly, my top stitching couldn't walk a straight line if the chief of police pulled it over and asked it to.
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.
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
Birthday Recap
I'm going to try hard not to make this a brag-about-my-awesome-husband post, but I don't really see that there's any way around that.
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.
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.
After the mountain climb we drove home and he took me to dinner at Fruition. If you ever plan a trip to Denver, this place should be on your list of places to eat. It is fantastic. And I know you have to get a reservation 2 months in advance so the ear doctor has probably been planning this forever.
After the best meal in recent memory, we came home and I opened my last letters and his gift. His gift was a new Vera Bradley trip kit. Inside was a travel book for New York! He got us tickets to be in New York for almost a week over Labor Day! I have never been to the city before and can't wait to go!
All in all, a FANTASTIC way to celebrate my first 30 years of living on this planet.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Unexpected mortality check
Today for lunch I sat in the middle of a crowded fast-casual restaurant at a small table all alone.
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.
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
Busted
I have a deep, dark, guilty secret.
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.
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.
This morning I woke up and found this note, lovingly left for me by my husband on the kitchen counter:
I hope he doesn't decide to ban Nature's Valley granola bars from the house, because I really REALLY like them...
Friday, July 15, 2011
Just a little jealous
Last week we found out that a good friend of ours got laid off from his job.
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.
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.
And then, to really emphasize the fact that I'm working and not having fun I had to drive under people launch hot air balloons!
I know I should be grateful to have a job, and not feel any jealousy at all for someone who unexpectedly lost his. I know that to the depths of my soul. I get it that I am SO lucky to have such a great job that I really do like 90% of the time.
But wouldn't it be fun to golf, or water ski, or ride in a balloon today?
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Time rolls on
I hate it when I find myself being a total cliche.
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.
30?
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?
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.
30?
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
I'm havering to you
Last night I took the teenage girls from my church group to a free concert in the park. We got them awesome pizza, every flavor of Izze soda we could find, laid out blankets to lounge and I even had red velvet cupcakes to top off the evening.
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.
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
Muscle Memory
Last night after work I came home and needed a break.
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.
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
Getting it right
Yesterday the ear doctor and I celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary.
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.
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.
Happy 4th!
Want to know what the ear doctor looks like when I totally suprise him with an unexpeted picnic in public to commemorate our 4th wedding anniversary?
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!
I thought you'd never ask!
Last night after dinner with my man I suggested we take a leisurley stroll through downtown Denver. As we walked toward our favorite bridge he noticed a beat up box that was kind of opened a bit with light coming out. He reached down to look at it and saw his name on it. When he opened it, there was a balloon, candles and chocolate cake inside.
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
Acting like Frenchies
The ear doctor and I try our very hardest not to watch TV on Monday nights. Monday nights are special for us. For talking. For laughing. For family.
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.
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
adventures in pet ownership
Last night the ear doctor and I went over to a friend's house to return their grass edger and we ended up sitting around chatting for a bit.
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?
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
Friday night the ear doctor and I went out to see Super 8.
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.
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
a whole new world
So turns out I should listen to my sister more often.
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.
AMAZING!
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.
AMAZING!
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Moving
Right now my little sister is throwing the last few boxes into the back of a moving van and hauling her family from the sweltering heat of summer in St. Louis to the promise of sub-zero winters of Minnesota.
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.
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
Missing Out
My little sister and her husband are in Orlando right now enjoying a full week at Disneyworld. I'm sure my little 4 year old niece Charlotte is having the time of her life. Surrounded by her cousins, meeting princesses, getting to eat as much junk food as humanly possible...that's the stuff of dreams for a 4 year old.
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.
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
obsession
Last year the ear doctor and I failed at Homeowners 101: Keeping your grass alive. Total, utter failure. Our yard was the only one on the block that dried up and turned into a big dirt pit by August.
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"
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
Leavin
You can always tell it's the day before I leave for a trip by the strange outfit I throw together. I pull something out of the back of my closet that I hardly ever wear because I want to make sure I have my cutest clothes available for the trip.
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!
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
Weekend update
Friday night the ear doctor and I were invited to a housewarming party. But it wasn't held at the honoree's new home, it was held at someone else's place that had more space. I thought that was kind of strange, but was willing to go with it. And it was a really fun, pretty typical party until about 10 pm when someone brought out a trumpet and started stumbling through a barley recognizable version of battle hymn of the republic. Yikes.
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...
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
life saver
Yesterday it was so cold and rainy here in Colorado that it put everyone in a funk.
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.
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
On TV
Friday afternoon we heard that the food trucks from Food Network's Great Food Truck Race would be pulling into Denver for the weekend.
There are very few things that the ear doctor loves more than eating his food from a truck in the street. I think it comes from him living in Mexico for 2 years and eating his weight in Tacos Al Pastor. Every time he sees anyone selling food on the street he is drawn to their offering like moth to flame. So it's no wonder that his eyes lit up and our plans for Saturday afternoon were set.
We'd be driving all over Denver hunting and gathering our meals from kitchens on wheels.
Our first conquest was the Roxy's grilled cheese truck in Wash park. Delicious goat cheese, duck prosciutto and fig preserves toasted perfection. Definitely a strong contender.
Roscoe wanted some BAD!
Then we drove into downtown and found the Cafe con Leche truck and I had my first taste of amazing Cuban food. Since I don't really care for pickles I've always shied away from a Cuban Sandwich. We walked up to the truck and I just told the guy to make me the best thing he had.
It was awesome. He took a flattened grilled plantain, piled sweet, pulled pork on top and finished it with this creamy sauce, tomato chunks and grilled onions. This was my favorite thing we ate BY FAR.
Roscoe wanted some BAD!
The third truck we searched out was the Korean BBQ/taco truck called Korilla. By this time the fatigue and heat of the day was getting to me. We stood in line behind the most annoying kids in the world who wouldn't leave our dog alone and the food, to me, was just OK. The ear doctor loved it. I think his eyes even rolled back into his head with joy each time he took a bite.
We intended to keep driving around and try the other 3 trucks, but I was full and tired and sore. So we went to our favorite ice cream place instead...then came home and passed out.
Now we'll have to tune into the show to see if we made it into any of the background shots! There were camera crews at 2 of the 3 trucks we saw.
The only other time I was on TV my best friend and I were sitting in front row seats at our high school state basketball tournament looking totally bored out of our minds. It was awesome.
Monday, May 09, 2011
two steps back
Fact: I am physically incapable of taking it easy.
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.
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
Great debate
I can't decide.
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.
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.
They both have 14.2 megapixles and both take movies.
The Sony has a cool translucent mirror technology in the body so it doesn't have any moving parts inside the camera body. I like this because in my last camera this part got messed up and it was an expensive fix. Also, the Sony is a little lighter and smaller. The Sony takes faster pictures (7 frames per second vs 3 with the Nikon). And it has a cool flip down view screen making taking self portraits really easy. And we all know how much I love self portraits...
The Nikon has a true optical view finder. In the Sony when you look in the eye piece you just see the same display as on the back screen of the camera. A digital image...not a reflection of what you're actaully seeing like a traditional camera. There is a digital interface between you and what you're seeing...I don't really like that very much. Lastly, the Nikon battery lasts almost twice as long as the Sony battery.
Anyone have any experience with both and know which I should pick?
Garden update
Last year my vegetable starts looked like this at this time of year:
And this year they look like this:
So now I'm a little worried that I'm not going to have a good crop this year.
These are the kind of things that keep me up at night.
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Accessories MAKE the look
For those of you who aren't familiar with the intricacies of the LDS (mormon) culture, allow me to shed a little light.
For some reason, here in the states, there seems to be a fascination with all things Polynesian/Hawaiian woven into our collective conscious. It's not really surprising. Not that I've ever been to any tropical island, but from all accounts they seem very nice.
In our congregation we have a bona fide Hawaiian lady. She grew up on one of the islands and now suffers through the dry, cold Denver winter every year. Why? From the frequency of her expression of fond past memories, I'm not quite sure.
Last night she came to teach all the teenage girls in our youth group how to make Lei's out of yarn. I was just going to sit in the background and watch, but peer pressure got the better of me and I grabbed a skein and got to it. I made a "lovely" bright green and yellow lei. When I came home I hung it up on a coat hook in our mudroom...next to the garbage...I'm pretty sure I knew it's final resting place.
But then this morning I got this picture sent to my phone my the ear doctor:
Seriously? How can I possibly get rid of it now?
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
self promotion
One of the great things about America is that anyone can run for public office. Your neighbor who has an axe to grind with the city can pony up the dough to make himself posters, ask his friends to stick them in their yards and get elected to be on the city council.
And I know that technically ANYONE can run for office, but come on? Really? This guy?
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
better half
Last night I was a grump. Due to my lovely accident, my shoulder relentlessly hurts and my mood is all messed up. Due to the bruise on my brain and the swirling chemicals attempting to heal it, my emotions have been on an out of control roller coaster. Basically, I've felt like 3 weeks of strait PMS.
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.
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
Low key holiday
Our Easter was great.
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.
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
Why I love insurance Part 2
It's probably because I've never been a really truly physical person. I've never pushed myself to run so hard that it made me throw up. I just never really saw the point of determining the physical limits of my body like some people seem compelled to ascertain.
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.
UGH!
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.
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.
UGH!
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
Why I love insurance Part 1
I am not an athlete.
I've lived almost 30 years of my life without finding a need to wear perforated fabric.
Until now.
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.
I've lived almost 30 years of my life without finding a need to wear perforated fabric.
Until now.
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.
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