Like Magic

I can't believe 2006 is almost over. I remember toasting with Bub and friends last year as the ball dropped. We were at a bar. My friend was insanely drunk and I remembered that it had snowed while we were inside drinking beers.

I also remember when one of Bub's friends toasted our glasses and said, "This is your year. 2006. Only 7 months to go..." And we'll be married.

And so here we are.

Now it's time for us to focus forward. What will this year bring? We are so blessed with friends, family, good health, and happiness. What more could there be? A house perhaps? A baby (I can't believe I just wrote that!), a new job...new friends...new, new, new. And so as we all prepare to ring in the New Year, I like to think of a line from one of the Anne of Green Gable's movies. Her teacher is trying to talk Anne through some mishap she's had. I think it's when she was fighting with her classmate. Was it Gilbert Blythe? I don't remember...anyway...her teacher said something like: Remember, Anne, tomorrow is a new day, fresh without any mistakes. And as I wash my face for bed each night, I like to think I've washed off the day: being late to work, the long run, and the typing and staring at my laptop while bright, artificial office lights beat down on me like fake sunlight.

And for the New Year, it is just that: new. And we all have yet another chance to find the magic.

On Time

There is hardly a soul here at the office. However, my boss is as present as ever. This is my only day of work this week and I'm happy to have that to think about for the remainder of the day!

I just wanted to share that I was on time today! I even had enough time to hit Starbucks before getting here, too. Now if I was only this motivated (knowing this is my only day of work) all the time so that I wasn't ever "late" again...

More later.

On the drive home, I pondered where my life is going. It was all very cliche. As I drove the long stretch of highway through Maryland, then Pennsylvania, into New York, Connecticut, and finally Here, I wondered where I was going. Me, my life, my character, my being. Was I happy with me? Did I exude the kindness and generosity that is expected? Was I still the bratty younger sister, the selfish daughter, who had everything? Was I grateful for good health, family, and friends? Did I recognize everything and yet, did I take each day for granted?

Instead of reflecting on these things and creating New Year's resolutions for the fresh beginning, I find myself thinking of renewal, fresh days without mistakes during Fourth of July fireworks. I know, strange. But yet, something about the color, the warmth, the middle of the year: it seems a more appropriate time for reflection. Although, I wasn't reflecting on new beginnings because New Year's is a week away. It was the repetitiveness of the road, the concrete, the misting rain, the chalky white lines on the road, the reflectors. The fog was appropriate too: the future is so unclear, yet we take for granted this very fact.

I don't know if it's the being married bit, but this was one of the most fun Christmas' I've had. Even though it was just the four of us, the banter, the laughter, and creating memories of Bub and me cooking our first Christmas meal together as husband and wife, were indescribable. We laughed all the way home, despite my feeling sick. I realized that although our paths are unclear--and that each day is something new to think about--and not purely an expectation--that I'm elated to have DH with whom to share the rest of my life.

Sigh...

I got a lot done today at work and during my lunch break. All gifts are set and wrapped. I haven't yet packed for our journey to MD tomorrow. I also need to eyeball ingredients and familiarize myself with the Christmas dinner recipes Bub and I have offered to prepare as we enjoy cooking. It may seem strange since we're going somewhere for Christmas and why would we, the journeying guests do the cooking? Well, it's just worked out that way and I'm fine with it. It keeps me busy, keeps my tummy happy, and allows me to contribute to the in-law household!

I also need to clean the car, check the fluids--yay, oil. Yay, gas. And hopefully a trip to the gym can happen since we'll be planted on our butts for 8 hours.

So...I'm tuckered out here and signing off until I don't know when. I should be able to post something between tomorrow and Tuesday, but just in case:

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!

Love,
Ripe

Thursday morning news

Today is my "Friday"--and here are a few things to share:

-Bub wrapped my gifts last night. For the first time ever I'm being SO good and keeping away so that I do not know what the heck he is up to. However, there was most certainly a Tiffany's box with a red ribbon amongst the packages. I was squealing this morning. I was also moaning because I have major cramps. So not fun.

-I am never quite on time for work. You see we have flex time, but most people are in here around 9. If you're an engineer, I've noticed, feel free to stroll in around noon. That's a bit much if you ask me. Anyway, ever since I was younger I've been pushed, rushed, prodded along to hurry up. Work is an extension of this eh, bad habit. I stroll in around 9:20 at times. Today was 9:22. Don't worry. I skip lunch or I stay late, no problem. But when that alarm goes off (we all know it's a bitch to make it to the gym in the morning, but even if I do, that still assists me in being tardy). So please, people. Help me be on time in 2007. How am I ever going to be a good Mom when I'm the one holding people up??

-As I said, I have cramps and hate the first day. I hate it. I feel nauseous, fat, bloated, you name it. I so wanted to stay home.

-I'm 1 gift and 2 stocking stuffers away from being done with gifts. I swear. I said this yesterday. I really am serious. I need to hit a bookstore, Dunkins, and then I am really done. I always question if I got people enough. When is enough? Ugh! But our tree looks great. So many wrapped gifts and no more shopping bags lying around. We also have a bunch of grapefruits, courtesy of one of Peter's co-workers. Yay. Grapefruit!

-Since I was late--again--I am off to get stuff done. Yes, I will be productive today. I'll try to post again tonight because tomorrow we'll be in a car all day. Yikes.

Warm Fuzzies

- When I left for work this morning, as the car was warming, I heard a honk. I looked over and this woman who lives in our building who I say hello to from time to time wanted to get my attention so that she could wave. I smiled and waved.

- I got home from work first tonight, earlier than I had planned since I told Bub I was going to be late to do some shopping (I have 1-2 more gifts left, that's it!). I had good luck, so I was home 1/2 hour earlier than I thought. There were many Christmas cards waiting for us as there have been the last few days. So far, no one has mistakenly written my maiden name on any. The majority have been to Mr. & Mrs. Bub. None were addressed to Ripe, though.

- I went onto our wedding photographer's web site to see how they have updated it. The last time I looked they had some photos of us up there. They had completely redesigned it and put candids of Bub and I interspersed with other couples. I ran out of the room to tell Bub who came running after me to see.*

*The parents' albums are currently being worked on and we should see sample proofs soon... I can't wait! Then we can finish selecting what we want for ours...

Sunday Update

Since my last post I got some wrapping done, finished my snail mail correspondence, showered, folded some laundry and went to the mall. Since Bub reads this, I can't disclose the items I purchased for him, but I was successful.

I tried to avoid it, but had to do it. I finished up shopping--or should I say squeezed in one final store before departing for my sister's birthday dinner. I went to Sephora. Yes, people, I got sucked in. It started out as grabbing items for my mom and sister. I even looked around thinking there might be something small for my dad as as a stocking stuffer. What?? Yeah, no luck there. Then I caved.

I needed powder. The one I had until only moments ago was almost 2 years old. You heard me. Just a ring of makeup in a hollow black container. Gross and totally not working anymore. I will now no longer need to swirl my brush around 5 and 6 times to get something on it to put on my face. I needed mascara. I'm all for the brown kinds. The store had a great display with a diagram to help you find just the right one, but they were all in black. But if I was going to get mascara, then I needed to get what I needed the absolute most: lip gloss. But I wanted to venture into the lipstick territory. I wanted something that made sense since I'm Mrs. Natural Look.

So I picked the dark, long curly black hair, wild glasses, with semi-loud makeup--but all very tastefully done--girl to assist me with my purchases. About 1/2 hour later I'm walking out with powder, brown mascara (phew!), gloss lipstick, and lip exfoliator b/c who knew you had to do that to your lips and God knows mine turn to hell in the winter.

The funny part is, this woman didn't push a thing on me. I asked her for help with the mascara brand, the lipstick, the powder, and the lip exfoliator thing was just by chance something I needed and didn't know. Or wait, was that a sales tactic?

Anyway, that's the update. Ugh, thank goodness this is a short work week. And next week: even shorter.

Right now

I'm wearing my pj's and doing laundry. I'm about to finish writing some notes to people and wrap up all the snail mail correspondence for a while.

I'm about to start and hopefully finish wrapping Christmas gifts. Today I will finish getting everything I need to. Just a little more for my Mom and sister.

Today is my sister's birthday. We will probably be dining out somewhere this evening. I'm slightly annoyed with her. Over a month ago I asked her if she'd like to go to a spa for her gift. I would pay for her massage. Well, due to the fact that this was her gift, I was going to bum around Newbury Street while she got pampered. She agreed to the day and time and we made plans to do something after--grab a drink or meal. There was even an invitation to go to her place and hang.

I get a call 1 hour before she is supposed to meet me at my place. She says she needs to reschedule. She volunteers at a shelter and decided to adopt this kitty who has been badly injured but recovering well. I knew she was selected to adopt him and she was psyched about it. I don't want to say she was lying, but she said she was at the shelter for four hours trying to have a cage fit into her car. I don't mean to be selfish since this is her birthday gift, not mine, but hello? Why did she have to get the cat at that same time? So I say you know, I sort of feel blown off and then I get about a zillion, Now I feel so bad's. So the thing that pissed me off is that in her defense she says well, you wouldn't have had fun waiting for me while I had my massage, anyway. What???

Bub is at the grocery store now and there's so much to get done today. Christmas is only 8 days away. I'm excited for our road trip to Maryland to see Bub's parents. Blasting Christmas songs and chatting...We're going to DC on Saturday to visit one of my best friends in her hood. It should be a fun weekend. We offered to cook Christmas dinner too. I love baking and cooking and already announced to my parents that next Christmas, we're hosting! Yay!

***So I just talked to my sister. She feels really bad about yesterday. She's rescheduled the spa treatment, so we've made amends.

I'm off to wrap.

I'm currently finishing my sips of the nonfat raspberry no-whip mocha Bub so kindly picked up for me on his way back from his weekly run with the boys. He's so sweet.

So I'll cut to the chase and be done with it.

Thursday I wound up spending time with my Mom. My dad called while I was with her to say that the vet had contacted him, letting him know that Felix was not in good shape. At the most, she could see him surviving a month or less only if we did a bunch of 24-7 stuff at our house. She suggested we not bring him back home. He could no longer go to the bathroom (litterbox), and he was quite frail. So we didn't want him to be uncomfortable. We all met up at the vet to see my childhood pet one last time. He was all of 5 pounds since his kidneys weren't working and they had him on meds. He had the cutest kitty bandage on his paw. Little blue paw prints on a white background.

His eyes were still so intense. At some moments they look golden and shimmery, at others, green and clear. It was like he knew the prognosis wasn't good. He's usually a ball of energy, but he was mellow. His tail wagged often at times and then he sort of chilled. He was so, so tiny due to the weight loss. But when I went to kiss my kitty goodbye, I looked deep into his stunning eyes to let him know it was me, the girl in 5th grade who cradled him in her lap, who was so anxious to return from school, and college, and work, and then during visits--to feel his warmth, purs, and love. To slip him food scraps, pet him like crazy, give him a scratching behind the ears and on his neck.

He wasn't there. And for a minute I was surprised at the fact that I was relieved we were saying our goodbyes so that we could let this little creature be in peace and without pain.

I'll always miss him.

Felix

My mom just called to let me know that my kitty of 18 years is at the vet and his kidneys are failing. My cat, who is so precious, who has been through everything with me from the 5th grade all the way through my wedding, is sick.

This just sucks. I'm going to swipe out my plans and go see my little friend at the vet.

Lots to say

I've already had 2 cookies today (for breakfast). Our work cookie swap was a success. There was one other girl in my group with the same first name as me (which happens almost never)--we both made chocolate something cookies, so I like to think "Great ________ think alike"...

I have today OFF. OFF people. I feel sort of weird about it b/c it's been a while that I've intentionally taken a day off just because and also took it off outside of the weekend. I'm a big fan of taking Fridays off (I love those more than Mondays, when I feel like I'm always wondering what people are up to at the office, but for some reason I just know that on Friday everyone is itching to get the heck out of the office and then you have the rest of your weekend to follow). So why today? Why a Thursday??? Well, tomorrow night is my office party and I don't take a day off from work to get away from it all--including coworkers (who are nice, but you look forward to the break)--if I'm going to see my boss that same night! Plus I have a publisher lunch tomorrow afternoon anyway.

Tonight is Bub's holiday party. It's at an upscale restaurant and they've had it there for the past 2 years. It's all about free-flowing wine and very little munchies (or so it seems to me because when we leave, I'm like: Bub, we have to go get a burrito somewhere!). The free-flowing wine got me into trouble the first year. Everytime I turned around my glass was being filled. I semi-started an argument with one of Bub's coworkers about writing a book about something that had happened to him and I think I was a bit pushy (sorry!), and apparently, after the party was over and Bub and I had commit to having more drinks with this coworkers (not a good idea for me!), but intead, I just jumped into a cab--picture a girl coming out of a restaurant, booking it across the street to a cab, leaving Bub to fend for himself. Well, he caught up with me. But then I became 'whiny, bitchy girl' and so a little argument insued. I don't think it was little, actually. Wine can be evil, people.

Last year was much better. I drove, so I had no reason to allow the nice servers to keep pouring wine into my glass. But tonight I take the train. I will leave even earlier than I would have in past years to see Bub's boss who wants to give us our wedding gift in the lovely club upstairs from their office. What could it be? Hmmm.

So that's the plan. What am I doing on my day off? Well. My mom has today off too, so we may hang out. But first I have to go to the gym, finish Christmas card...make sure I know what I'm wearing to said parties. The list goes on. So now I must go. No more blogging for now.

All you happy people, have a great Thursday! : )

Tonight

I made 3 dozen Chocolate Drop Cookies with Heath Bars, Vanilla Chips, and Pecans. I started mixing in all the goodness of this recipe. I did the dutiful licking of the mixer thingy's that pop into the electric hand mixer. I wiped my lips, washed my hands, went to grab my spoons to drop the gooey yumminess of my homemade cookies for our work's cookie swap (my idea, thankyouverymuch) when I thought...hmmm...these don't seem so chocolatey. In fact, they seem so lumpy with all the chips, nuts, and candy bits. I was slightly annoyed. I'm a lover of chocolate, the brown stuff, fudge...YUM! This is when I realized that I hadn't mixed the dry ingredients with the moist. And boy, was I in HEAVEN when the two were mixed. Bub came in and this time it was he who licked the mixer thingy's (don't worry, I washed them clean after the first round of licks).

Fast forward 1/2 hour later, I have a sweet-smelling kitchen and we're off to the gym. Great workout: 2-mile run, lots of stretching (which I always neglect), good ab moves--even the hard ones--all while Bub played pick-up soccer downstairs. I could see him through the window. They wore "pennys" like you did when you were in gym class at elementary school. And I remember them being all sweaty. And I hated wearing them. But seeing Bub wear one brought me back to feeling like a kid--I remember kickball--and how fun and easy it was to be young(er), even though it was so "hard" back then...or so we thought. Seeing Bub blocking the opponent from scoring made me feel the anxiousness of who was going to come into contact with me during gym class--and how I could slip into the sea of kids and not be called out. I liked it better that way. Just blend in and I won't have to call any attention to myself, the shy girl...

Anyway, the cookies are packed away. There are even some for Bub to take to work. This time tomorrow I'll have an assortment of yummy cookies to devour...if only I could be so sure of my gym schedule.

When Bub and I first started dating, he had just celebrated his fifth work anniversary. Well, his work has a fabulous idea of giving out Tiffany gifts to those deserving of them (read: those celebrating notable anniversaries). We had probably been dating almost 6 months when he surprised me with earrings from there. I was sort of shocked that he had selected (with the help of one of his female coworkers, I hear) earrings to give to me: the girl who was always bumming around by herself, sans boyfriend, who, at the time, had not a clue that we would be here today: married. Am I complaining? No way.

Tonight I went to the store to pick up the earrings as I had had them cleaned. They had been shut in my jewelry box due to a missing earring backing--well, that's not a good enough reason--they were really, really unclean...and hadn't seen the light of day mostly because I forgot about them. I know--what is wrong with me? So I picked them up tonight and they're just like new. I'm thinking of busting them out tomorrow in place of the same little diamond studs I always don.

This year, Bub celebrates 10 years with his firm. You guessed it: more Tiffany's.

I hadn't intended on writing about Tiffany's tonight. But this is what came out. Sorry, I must sound a bit ridiculous.

I'm not sure what my point here is except that when you celebrate your fifth year anniversary at my office you get some clock (and from afar it looks like nothing grand) and at ten years--a set of book ends. Woohoo. People, we get up at the crack of dawn and spend more time at our desk doing our job than we are enjoying life and after 5 and 10 years of service we get a measley clock???? What is that?

And, believe me, I've totally tried to help Bub pick out cufflinks or a watch or something from the turquoise-branded store, but he's just not into it.

A few tidbits

Winter is totally coming. The cold weather has arrived--sadly enough--and there's no more walking outside, smelling spring and breathing in anticipation as I waited to walk down the aisle...

The summer has long been over, but now that the cold weather has made its way to Boston, Christmas is truly in the air. I listen to carols constantly at work through XM since you get a free account online if you have a subscription set up, say, in your car. It's great. I sit in THE only cube in my department and couldn't care less which scrooges hear the "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow" and "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way" from their desks. Deal with it, people. It's not THAT distracting (since I have it on the lowest possible volume setting, anyway).

We're getting our tree today. We were too cold to deal on Friday and yesterday. We're going downstairs to storage to get the cute little bobbles we've stashed away until the time presents itself in which it's necessary that we decorate. And boy, are we ready; the time has come!

We attended a wine tasting party last night among good friends, mostly good wine (too many shiraz's though!) and the whole thing was just so cozy. I love meeting friends of friends too, hearing about their holiday traditions and what's important to them. I felt there were several prods at "when YOU have kids" or "enjoy it now when you can sleep through the night" and we were one of two couples who didn't have to hurry home to let the babysitter go home.

Bub's friend who hosted the party is going to propose to his girlfriend next weekend. I stared at her a few times during the night. A sweet girl with good intentions who I think has changed the Friend quite a bit into a mature guy, I wondered how she would react. It sounds like they have been talking about it, but would she cry like I did, would she be grouchy from last minute holiday stress stuff and then feel bad when he got down on one knee (or would he?)? Would they be at their house by their tree near their fireplace or would they be outdoors, seeing the stars?

I thought back to my own special day, August 12, 2005, when Bub surprised me, and the tears, excitement and happiness which followed were the newest of emotions. Then the hard work, the fun, and the anticipation. Lots of anticipation.

So it'll be our first married Christmas this year. We've shared the holidays together for 4 years. We've been together for 5.5 years on December 21st. It became too hard to say goodbye to one another when Bub left for Maryland, but even the first year, I think we still shared Thanksgiving together because he did't travel to Maryland except for Christmas. It's a funny thing bringing your best friend and love into your family's traditions. But now it seems so natural that we've done it a bunch of times already, yet it's our first married Christmas, and we'll need to mark it as such. My first Christmas as a "Mrs."

Off I must go...to find my husband who is still hanging out in bed!

Happy Day!

I'm tired and need to go wash up.

I'm writing this during my sleep. You see we just upgraded our cable and now bub is a bit more obsessed with the tube. Not YouTube, but the television. We now have a bazillion more stations and therefore more good movie choices. I think perhaps my timing was off since we are still in deep with Six Feet Under and now this. But our DVD player is dead and watching DVDs on one's computer is not as entertaining as on the tv, especially when our computer screen is made for computer-stuff.

So as I was saying, I've been asleep already. I had seen Broken Flowers before, but love its quirks and Bill Murray, so I semi-forced bub to watch it. It went something like this:

Me: You don't have to watch this, but I really liked it.
Bub: Okay (touching the remote).
Me: It's a bit slow, but trust me, it's worth it.
Bub: (silence)
Me: You don't have to watch it, really (this is after he watched at least 20 minutes of Boys on the Side, another movie must-see--a good chick flick!).
Bub: It's interesting (but the tone in which "interesting" is said seems as though bub finds it easier to agree with me).
Me: (asleep)
Bub: Go wash up.
Me: (at the freezer eating spoonfuls of low-fat vanilla, double-churned from when bub made baked apples for my parents)
Bub: Go wash up.

Well...I have yet to wash up, but the jammas are now on and bub is still in front of the tv.

I'm just too tired to tell you about my black suit interview excursion. But here are a few hints:

I got a parking ticket after I realized that I didn't have the phone number to the interviewer since I wasn't able to work the elevator (don't ask) and thought I was going to need assistance (because who else would have such issues).

I got a parking spot EXACTLY across from my destination which is amazing during rush hour and in the city.

My interviewer lives in the same town I grew up (that's one of his 3 homes, but still, a good coincidence).

My first impression of the place from my car is that they have nice windows (I knew they were on the second floor).

My first impression after seeing the office: impressed.

I was told I carry myself well, am smart, bright, have an "energy".

I was told I would be bored filling said job. So then I got a "but we were planning on hiring XYZ type of person in the spring for this job..." and then started hearing a specific tailor-made position for me.

I got scared.

I listened.

Was interviewer trying to make me an offer I couldn't resist?

I left carrying a stack of children's books, complete with pop-ups.

Bub and I worked on the "search and find" types where you have to find the candy cane, turtle, and bug in the busy illustrations.

We didn't rest until we did.

So what am I to do?

I don't know b/c I am tired and I need to go wash up.

Update

Thank God it's Friday tomorrow.

I had a phone interview tonight and honestly, I'm so tired of shaping and selling myself to people, trying to fit myself into a mold of perfection for any given opportunity. I'm tired and no, I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. That was the interviewer's ONE of TWO questions he asked me. He also told me his age, how old his youngest daughter was and my brain, as dense as it can be, made me think: Is this going to be another one of those jobs I have where it closes down in two seconds and therefore my cover letter to new, prospective employers will need to have not one but two "built-in" ways of explaining in as few words as possible that I can hold--and keep--a job, but that it's the damn city of Boston that doesn't know how to keep their leases low enough so that little book publishing operations can survive?

I doubted my skills on the phone. "Well, I'm not sure I'm hearing that you can DO this?" I'm like come on! I'm 5 years out of school and I've breathed on more children's books than edited them. I'm told the fact that they're kids books doesn't matter--what about my editing in general??? Um, if you're a kids publisher, I think kids books and editing them matters. I don't want to be wishy-washy, but I don't want to lie. I just want to be. Me. And I'm so wrapped up in what I think people are going to think or did or do think of my skills that I don't know what the truth is. And therefore, I can't project it. Not without a few drinks anyway. Just kidding. What if they read this? What if they find this post??

I have an in-person interview on Monday. Black suit: be ready.

My Thanksgiving Weekend So Far

We were allowed to leave the office at 2pm on Wednesday.

Too bad I have so much hanging over my head there that I felt guilty racing out as I would usually do if I were at any of my other old jobs. I got home about 4 and proceeded in on a laundry frenzy. We have lots of folding to do, but at least I didn't have to wear bathing suit bottoms yesterday, and actually have clean underwear to last me through the weekend.

I need more underwear.

I had a roaring headache on Wednesday night, but I was still able to celebrate bubbly with bub.

It was our 4-month wedding anniversary and even though it's not the 1, 3, or even 6-month mark, it just felt more special because of the pending holiday and that we had time to recognize the anniversary. Usually we're too busy and we just quickly acknowledge that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together several months ago (and still do!) and then kiss and then go back to washing dishes or something.

He bought me long stem light, but intense pink roses.

They are perfect.

I put them in the vase that was one of our centerpiece vases at the reception. It looks like a summer arrangement; I had to cut the roses short to accomodate the large opening of the glass and the roses wanted to tip over because the buds are too heavy for their long stem parts. Anyway. He's so sweet. We enjoyed bubbly from TJ's, a very expensive $5 brand, but it was delicious and actually tasted quite similar to the bubbly they'd serve use right before our first course in Italy. Of course we followed this up with some 6 Feet and well, naturally I passed out on the couch.

Then comes yesterday: roaring cramps and bitchy whines from me and I'm not even out of the bed.

We drag our asses in the pissing rain to the Y. Yes, we were working out on the biggest pig-out day of the year. Good for us! I will meet the at least 3x a week of going to the gym quota. I will do it and then I will increase my quota and work up to running to the gym just like I used to do when I was a young girl (read: 2 years ago).

Then came the fun part. Fun in italics. Fun in quotes. Fun in a sarcastic fun sort of way.

We drove 1.5 hours out to see my mom's side of the family who I am less than thrilled about spending time with. Too much to get into, but you know the feeling when you walk into a party and you say hello to people and then you go to say goodbye to those same people after little or no conversation and the parting words are "so great to see you!"--it's fake, dumb, and outright stupid, right? That was pretty much our day. The restaurant that my uncle picked for us was one where my father spotted a mouse run across the floor, the food was lukewarm and gross, and I left feeling HUNGRY and ANNOYED that everyone gets to dine on leftovers today and I get to eat some brownies I made last night as a result of the PMS and me being bitchy--and of course because I was hungry and wanted SOMETHING that tasted GOOD.

And you may wonder why we ate out on such a holiday. Well, my mother pretty much follows the crowd of her family (fine) and she didn't want my grandmother spending it alone (neither did I). So she decided not to cook (gasp! I LOVE mom's cooking, but she was probably happy not to have to) and so we ended up in a large room needing a makeover--paint, bad smell, etc. with tables that you'd find at a bake sale covered with PAPER tablecloths. Not even enough menus to pass around.

Perhaps I'm being ungrateful (I think if I didn't know me, I would think I sound ungrateful and selfish) but I was embarrassed for my uncle who clearly doesn't understand what eating out means: you pick a place SOMEONE would actually enjoy eating at.

Don't get me wrong, there were some great moments like laughing with my dad and talking to him about how I feel like a well-paid admin in my job and how I want to feel settled and how he said you never really feel settled. He just made me feel better; he usually does. My sister and I joked around. It made for some fun banter. And then there's seeing Bub interact with my family--and those who I can't stand: the uncle who can't pick a good restaurant to save his life and so forth--and he's just downright adorable. The handshakes, him interacting with my cousin who's almost 6.

We capped off the gross-o meal with a trip to Bub's grandfather's. He's 97 and doing well. We just saw him this past weekend so we caught up on the usual: weather, what day it was, more weather, some family stories, before heading home.

And it was good to be home.

Bub has to work 1/2 day today. So for now I'm trying not to eat more brownies and getting ready to head to the gym. Then there will be some trips to the store, not because I am ready to Christmas shop but because I need to scope out what to wear to Christmas parties that are fast approaching. Yes, after yesterday's "holiday" meal, I think I deserve something new and shiny.

Happy Weekend!

Santa Wish List Item #1

So I've been doing some thinking about what I want for Christmas, well, because it's coming up soon.

And I'm obsessed with the idea of mp3's mainly because I don't have an ipod and the closest thing I've ever done with digital music is click on a song that bub purchased from itunes on the computer. I know, I'm like a little granny.

But now that we are back into our gym groove and I'm *going* more, my dinky little arm-band walkman (thanks, sis!) with about 2.1 stations on it (ones that come in without static, that is) and the fact that I didn't even have a discman--and the walkman I retired before my armband radio was true to the walkman form: it was a cassette player, makes me think it's high time I caught up with the 2000 era and get with the program.

My old job allowed me to commute via the train and so many people had their ipods on. I wasn't getting the big deal--what's wrong with reading in silence? Now that I have XM radio in my car--purely because it came with it or else I probably wouldn't have opted to sign up--I can't imagine a measley few stations on the radio with the only other option being to listen to CDs. Perhaps if I had an mp3 player I wouldn't need to think twice about XM; it would be a moot point.

So I'm doing some research into what player I want. I'm sure many would think it's a no-brainer: just get an ipod, but I want to do some research and really understand what it is that I'm starting to obsess about...

Last night

Last night after I wrote in this thing I curled up with bub and we watched House. We propped up the new pillows I purchased last week which are soft to touch and a nice warm khaki color (which is neutral by my standards since we have lots of colors going on in our home). It was warm under the covers and a very nice way to wind down the day. We shut out the lights and I heard bub's snoring before I could count to 20. I hate it when he falls asleep first; it makes me feel like I'm the last one to dream and I fear that I won't be able to drift off on my own due to the...um...noise. But alas, I did.

And then, at an hour that I learned to be around 1am and not 6am, though I was sure my alarm would sound at any moment, I heard a pounding. My heart started soaring. I feel like I've been on alert ever since I came home one night to find the three units next to ours broken into.

Could I be dreaming? No. Did I really hear something? Yes. Well if I heard something then someone else should hear something. So I listen to hear if bub is stirring and I hear no noise--no snoring, yet I learn later that he was fast asleep. He was so easily woken by the second time I called out his name. Maybe it's because I yelled it.

And it was either our bedroom door being shut or the grogginess of sleep but the noise-maker made not a loud, sharp pounding on a door, but a muffled pounding noise. After I called out to bub he woke and we waited to hear the noise again. There was indeed someone pounding. But was it on our door?

I played the part of scared girl. I needed protection. I felt pathetic. I told bub that I was scared and proceeded to pull the covers tightly around me. I couldn't see what he was doing but I heard him spring to action. Then I heard him fling open the door. Then there was a pause that seemed to last forever; I thought my god, the intruder is going to push past bub and come get me!

Instead, I heard...conversation. I think: Is this some drunk student who has lost his way? I was annoyed. But then I hear typical bub being polite and then hear him saying: Thank you. Thank you. What??

I can sort of see bub in his bathrobe pulled tightly around him when he returns to the bedroom. He is my hero and I await the news as to why someone is pounding on our door at the late hour that it was.

Our neighbor is the pounder. Bub thanked him since our neighbor only felt it important to inform us that our keys were still in the door. And instead of allowing them to remain in the lock for an actual intruder to come get us (!), he thought that pounding on the door at this late hour was the best solution.

I am so glad that our neighbor is not a psychopath.

It's been a pretty good Monday.

Despite the rain and the one long, neverending traffic light which, depending on what sort of day the world is having, cooperates or shits on your commute, it's what made me stroll in to work 10 minutes later than I should have which in turn required me to stay later. Fine.

We discovered what the crowd is like at our new gym tonight. It semi-blows. I mean so many people are there, motivated to shed calories or bulk up. On nights that are so rainy I prefer a glass of red and some Six Feet Under. But since Netflix hasn't yet made the next delivery and since there have been a few too many rainy week nights spent inside and since I finally caught up with those pounds I lost for the wedding, I figured it best that I be a bit more productive with my time.

That's what's being an adult is about, right?

Today we also found out some sort of scary news regarding the health of a family member. That's all I'll say for now as we want to know more before coming to terms with it. But I sincerely hope everything is okay. There are alot of strong and tough people out there. I like to think that I'm one but this person is even more of one, if that makes any sense.

Be well.

Fastforward: I'm drinking a second glass of Shiraz after I vowed this morning not to consume anything alcoholic for a while. Oh well. Not my fault that the beer I drank last night was nothing special and so therefore the need to makeup for it now. Not that the wine is anything stellar; it was on sale. It's decent.

Anyway. I made chili from a new recipe that requires not that much chopping and very little prep work. I enjoy prepping a little, but after a few veggies I get bored, tired and pretty much cranky that my meal isn't even close to ready because I haven't even cooked anything yet.

But so yeah. The chili came out flavorful, spicy, and down right hearty. It's one of those meals that perks up the cool days (not that we've had many of those...yet) and stays for a while in the tummy. But you see I think I made the chili more as comfort food not from the cold, but from having to deal with yet another fast-approaching work week.

Cheers.

I stayed in bed just a little longer this morning not because I had too many drinks last night or because I didn't want to realize the little headache I had might be bigger. I just laid around because I could.

I just finished my Trader Joe's chocolate yogurt. They call it something like "cocoa" whatever but to me it's the closest thing to a dessert one can have while it's still breakfast.

Bub gets into the politics shows on Sunday morning, while I prefer to get myself ready for the gym. We finally settled on one to join. I had been going to an all-women facility which was clean, user-friendly and not that bad distance wise, although the parking was sometimes annoying. But I missed the days when Bub and I used to hit the gym and work out at the same time sometimes copying each other on the machines. We'd separate and I'd do an elliptical while he ran and then if he finished first he'd come to my machine and start moving on the one next to me. And vice versa. We'd count out reps for one another while doing weights. But most times we'd do our own thing and give each other the nod or hand to show we're just about ready to get the heck out of there!

So we are newly joined members of our local Y. We joined for a month at another gym which had been built up by Bub's friend as a great facility. It was more than my last membership at the all-women's gym! The locker rooms were scary and we kept asking each other: Just why is this gym so much money? Clearly it's not because they're upgrading their old TVs, locker rooms, or anything like that.

So the almost new Y will work just fine for us. When we were signing the family plan paperwork yesterday I couldn't help but think how weird timing is sometimes; I have this suspicious feeling that we'll find a house and move and have to find another gym whose locker rooms we'll need to inspect.

And so I'm getting ready to put my gym clothes on--or should I begin to search the open house listings? Either way, I'm watching channel 2. Rick Steves is on talking about Positano, Capri, Sorrento--the Amalfi Coast, better known as the paradise we visited after we said "I do"...

And as I look outside at the drizzly day I wonder how we are so far both literally and figuratively from a life that people live daily amidst beauty and of course, the most delicious food.

Happy 2nd half of the weekend.

Us

So, we're Mr. & Mrs. and we're trying to put the finishing touches on our albums. Whee!

The parents ones are due tomorrow so that we have them in time to give at Christmas. Our final album will be created soon thereafter. It's really much harder than I thought it would be--these are photos that you want to choose just right since our kids and grandkids and even strangers could see. I just got our announcement into the paper of the town where I grew up which is what this photo was used for. We have yet to do that for bub. Oh bub is right there, below! Isn't he something?

Right now I have an amazing online album from our photographers which was truly a surprise because we only expected them to post photos online and that's it. But in addition they took some photos and created layouts and set it to this slow, soft, repetitive instrumental music. It's really silly but I get emotional when looking at it. Wait, that's not really silly, is it?

So I've seen the photos numerous times and now bub is weighing in. It'll be worth it in the end--the constant back and forth on selections, the hefty prices we have to pay for these. We are trying to preserve memories here. We can't go back in time.

Things that annoy me

Just some things I need to get off my chest and further keep me from my responsibilities at work:

When you turn left at a traffic light after your light has turned red--it's no longer your turn to go left! Let other people move when the light is green.
When you bump into me and do not say or acknowledge that you have touched me without permission and don't excuse yourself.
When you litter because it's too hard to throw things away properly.
When you lie.
When you don't ask you about how I am or how my weekend was, etc, after I took the time to ask you.
When you don't say hello after I have or at least smile.
When you eat with your mouth open, cough, sneeze, and so forth without any regard for others. Thanks.
When you talk over me while I am talking after I have listened to you talk.
When you get so caught up in materialistic items that you don't understand the actions of others and what they truly mean. You just want to compete and feel important. Ugh. How come you can't see this!?
When you are fake.

Driftee

It's sad when you feel certain people in your life are drifting away. Sometimes you don't know which fight to fight and which drifter to let go. I find this happening with a few people that I know from various stages of my life. One is a high school friend who I know loves and cares for me and I for her yet I feel that it's harder to stay connected than it is to remember the memories which remind us why we are friends (or were friends) in the first place.

I know that drifters are a part of life but it upsets me when certain friends drift due to the extreme measures it takes to be included in their schedule, life, circle of friends. It's even worse when a significant other becomes the focal point of their lives and friends are an after thought.

Drifters and significant others being the focal point of a friend's life are not new concepts by any means. I deal with the fact that I have been the drifter and not just the driftee and that I, too, have put my friends second when I first started dating bub.

Perhaps I'm more mature, a married woman now; or, perhaps I hold greater the value of friends because I feel that in any of life's uncertainties you want to feel surrounded by a secure, loving group of people and that the love of one person, though it may feel like it's all you need, may not be. And do not get me wrong, if I only had the love of my husband, I would most certainly feel lucky--and I do--but I'm just trying to make a point about friends here, so bear with me.

So right about now, anyone who stopped to read this may think: whoa, how depressing. But I just don't get why friendships fade like this. And in some of the scenarios I'm experiencing now it could very well be that there's nothing left to say. Or perhaps it's already been said before.

1 year

I meant to write on Halloween. I really did. But lately any spare time is consumed with watching Six Feet Under on DVD. I am really digging the show; I've come to really like Nate, identify with Federico, get irritated wtih Keith (but still think he's cute even if he is gay) and find Ruth to be such a spazz. We're about 1/2 way into the third season and we're lucky that Blockbuster is a short minute's walk down the road although we miss Netflix and have considered rejoining.

I'm at work so this post has to be brief because I have the paranoid "Big Brother is watching" thing going on. But I just wanted to say that it's been a year since I started this mish mash of writing stuff. I'm not necessarily proud of it because I think I can do a whole lot better than writing a bunch of posts which are entitled by variations of the word "quick" and that there's nothing mind-shattering or lovely about my style, if I have one. But as another poster stated somewhere in cyber world which I'm not completely remembering: this place, this space, this screen can sometimes be therapeutic.

For me when I started this a year ago it was my pouring out how excited I was to prepare for my wedding day. And so I look to write about other momentous occasions. For now while the water is fairly calm and things are just busy in general, I look to other bloggers for inspiration and great writing. You help spark the thing in me that reminds me why I love words.

quickie

I just baked glazed breakfast buns. They are cooling and I can't wait to see how they come out. They even look "pretty" too!

I haven't been out of our condo since yesterday morning. I went to my first included personal trainer session yesterday after almost missing it due to the lack of an alarm being set. I am paying for the hard work of yesterday's session: I am sore all over...

We are going to hopefully check out some open houses today. In case I didn't mention in an earlier post our house we were so excited about was sold. And sold well below the asking price as Bub just informed me today. As my friend from work said: It's a heartbreaker and you'll have plenty of those. She also said the nifty "It wasn't meant to be." And I agree. I just have to convince Bub there's something else better for us out there and of course, we need to find it!

Oh yeah, I'm so over my job. I have a love-hate thing going on and it's more hate than anything. I feel like a lost puppy and when someone calls my name I don't know which way to go--do something new? Find a job with what's open right now? Get prepared for school of some sort? Someone please advise.

wtf

i have like a zit forming on my face. at 26, i think i'm set with having my fair share of these things. wtf??

anyway, i opted to stay in tonight. i had grand plans of hosting a visit for my sister. we'd laugh and hang and drink pumpkin beer and be crazy. but i wasn't feeling it. i feel that my weird sleep the other night (you know, my weird dreams post) bubbled over to yesterday, although i did have a better sleep last night, but went to bed late b/c as you know, i can't miss my show: 6 degrees...anyway...so we decided on a rain check. how perfect since it's pouring, cold and gross out, which makes perfect weather for chianti and 6 feet under. i've been watching adoringly the strange characters, weird humor, and good soundracks (well, listening to those). anyway. bub is at the movies, which is fine by me. i love having nights to myself, especially after a long-ass work week. i had my typical it's wednesday but i keep thinking it's thursday week. this brings me to my next topic: work.

so there's an opening at a place that i once applied to, but the commute would be hell. where i live yields practically no jobs that i want; i'd have to move to nyc for that. so the other job i applied for, i interviewed for literally like 5 days before my wedding or some cracked ass thing like that. when they called to say they took someone with the concentration in xyz over me, i didn't care b/c dude, i was getting hitched and then off to italy for a 2 week getaway. so now i have a chance to apply for a similar job but working on much cooler stuff than the last job would have allowed me. do i apply? more on this later, but i'll probably pull my usual: apply and then decide if i get an offer. whoop dee doo. i hate being an adult.

and tomorrow i'll return to good old umass for homecoming. i'll see great friends, old ones, relive memories, be the band geek that you all know and even see old crushes...anyway--i'm supposed to go with a big-ass zit on my face? on top of that i'll feel like a fat ass since the "gym" isn't even in my vocab anymore.

i think i've had too much wine. TGIF!

addendum to post i wrote 2 seconds ago

told you i didn't want to wash the dishes.

oh, so the baby dream? i forgot to write that isn't it weird that it was after 4 months that i had the baby and the baby was fine? is it possible to have a baby and it's fine after only 4 months? maybe that's why we left it at the hospital? because it (don't know if it was a he or she, but i think it was a she) needed urgent care?

also, i'm avoiding the gym. i don't know why. i am officially in anti-gym mode. someone please help.

i just finished watching the gubernatorial debate on tv. i don't usually watch those things...well sometimes i do. but this one confirmed it. healey is a dirty fighter, arrogant and pretty irritating. maybe not the strongest reasons NOT to vote for her, but clearly patrick is the right choice. you can tell alot by the way someone conducts themself at these things. anyway. that solves that.

so last night i had these two strange dreams that i'm surprised i remembered, but since my sleep was interrupted every hour because if i sleep near one of those light up red-numbered digital clocks, it has to be turned away or else i think i'm always late waking up or just need to watch it for some reason. weird i know but this is the way it's always been. so my sleep was not good and bub usually sleeps closest to the clock that refuses to let me sleep. anyway, back to the dreams:

dream #1: i had a baby. BUT i had the baby after only a 4-month pregnancy. i don't remember the labor BUT i think we were on something. not that we're a bunch of druggies in the dream, but bub and i left our baby in the hospital and went out and a few DAYS later realized that we should um maybe go back and get the baby from the hospital. also, i realized i should make 2 calls: one to my parents to um, let them know i had a baby! and the other was a call to my boss. i was worried that after 4 months i wouldn't be showing enough to convince my boss i should be on maternity leave. yeah. nice.

dream #2: i'm in the kitchen of our old apartment. there is this guy who isn't even attractive in the dream too. no bub. well it doesn't matter that this guy isn't attractive since he wants to play a game. he wants to blindfold me with a napkin--the cloth kind. he wants me to hold the rest while he tries to stab them with a knife. WHAT??? i tell him that he'll probably stab them and me and then i don't remember anything except waking up next to the bright clock and feeling a tad bit scared.

so that's it for dreams.

and finally: a thought while driving home: if we just chose different words with which to tell our stories, would we all be great writers? best selling authors?

ok, off to wash the dishes. yuck.

The end of a blog

It has recently come to my attention that two people within the last week have ended their blogs. They broke up wtih cyberspace if you will. One makes mention that there is nothing left to be said. And we all know that can't be true. But it is stated that there are other things to try. I agree. However I don't see how someone comes to a decision such as this. And even if I did, I'm not sure I would openly post something that said "Farewell, cyberfriends!" or maybe I would. But then again I don't plan on not writing anymore here anytime soon. For some of you, that's good news, for some it's not. And for most, no one really ever reads this thing anyway.

Another ex-blogger wrote that he's signing off blah, blah, blah and this post happened to be the first time I was reading his blog ever. And I became truly upset. I had discovered written entertainment and a sneak peek into someone's life, a new blog to link to, but now why bother? I didn't even get to know the blogger and wham--we're already broken up.

Why do you think people suddenly decide to end their blogs?

friday notes

First: YIPPEEE! It's Friday! : )

Second: I have some things to share with everyone.

First, I'm on the hunt for a GREAT book. Dear friend Daily Editor let me borrow a book of short stories which has been a smashing hit. However, the time has come to now read something else as I am almost done with the book she let me borrow oh, a million years ago. I've been reading about new releases and scanning Amazon reviews for something good. I don't like to trust Amazon which is why I am asking for you to please help me find a new book. In fact, I have a date at the bookstore come lunchtime to choose something to indulge in this weekend.

I have not exercised since I've been back from the book fair. I'm feeling soft and squishy and I'm in a procrastination funk. Today is my half-birthday. You'd think I'd get my ass in gear on a momentous day like this one. But you see, it's ever so difficult to want to exercise, let alone do so on a Friday after work. I set my alarm to get up early this morning however I just HAD to stay up last night and watch that show 6 degrees. I missed last week's episode and Bub didn't even watch it for me (no surprise) so I don't know who the young new chick is kissing the photographer dude. Other than that, I don't think I missed much. If I did, please let me know. Also, why is it on at 10? I am getting old and bedtime at 11 is just not working out.

And finally this is the last bit to share since I really ought to be working (shhh)...I f-ed up the colors on my blog. The new lovely colors I chose show up on the "preview" bit, but I saved them and republished my blog and index a bajillion times and now I have drunk colors that aren't so pretty. Please help if you can.

Ciao.

getting closer, but not there yet

Thanks to Lufthansa, I've returned from my second trip to Germany for the annual book fair. I was mentally prepared for it having been through the experience one year ago. I shopped for outfits that would make a good impression not only to new partners who had never met me in person, but to boost my confidence when presenting our business model. I was almost perfectly organized, although most of the paperwork I did last year was repeated this year, but I felt even more in tune with knowing I was ready for any of our many meetings.

When I left last Monday evening in a somewhat pathetic tearful goodbye--this would be my first trip away from Bub as a married couple--I felt a homesickness that started a few days prior to the trip when I know I would be inundated with the monotony of it all. That I would yet again be with my manager 24-7 as though a child who needed to be kept on a leash and watched. It irked me and it was hard to keep my cheerful disposition up, difficult to keep the facade going, and very exhausting. And again, I drooled over the many creative outlets that come alive at this fair, consisting of exhibition center upon exhibition center upon exhibition center.

I was able to connect with two people--one stranger and one acquaintance--about starting my own "thing"...what that is, I don't know. But I'm getting closer. And I feel that by complaining that I don't know where to start, how to go about it, what to do, how to fund it, I'll just leave it at this: we met with a number of people who are the the very people who started their businesses from nothing, even went on to sell them to large notable companies only to start from scratch again.

What are their books like? Dreadful. Boring. Yuck. So if they can succeed at building a business on this stuff, then I would like a go at starting something even though it may never grow to be something quite as successful. And as my father said, you just have to jump right in.

I actually got homesick for my first job. Not to be an editorial assistant. My goodness, never do I wish for that again. But seeing the books I had worked on when I was fresh out of school and seeing the people who I once saw every day, and reflecting on those people who I used to work closely with and had close friendships with (some are still friends, thank goodness!), I wonder if I've migrated far away from what it was that I vowed to do when I was still in college: crack into trade publishing.

I'm afraid that excuses are no longer valid any more. In fact, the ones I use are tired and useless at this point.

At an age where I'm migrating away from the days when classes, band, and reading and writing papers to receive my degree are slipping away, I feel some what old. Although I know I'm not by society's standards, I feel as though I am by mine. Because now that I'm married and haven't fully decided if I should return to school (we all know that law school it mostly likely won't be and that's okay), a family is in our future at some point and well, being an adult is getting harder by the day.

quick and tired

I got new glasses. I haven't shopped for new ones in a long while and thought it might be nice to see--to really see--with them.
I got bangs. They're on the longer side, and I've been enjoying styling them instead of combing my hair back into the everyday pony; now I actually take time to dry my hair. It's getting kind of long!
I had my review. I had no expectations but will be receiving a raise. Not sure how much, but it's happening apparently. Oh and when you're more reserved about rating yourself highly, it's nice when your boss does that for you.
I'm gearing up for Frankfurt. I almost wish I could skip out and hit Oktoberfest, but no such luck. It's not that I don't like book fairs. But they remind me that I'm slightly off from where I want to be in my career. It helps me realize where I do want to be (I thinK!). I'm trying to look forward to the bustle of everything. It's publishing at its largest. It's completely international that it makes you forget that uh, there are other countries that publish books!
Finally, before I completely pass out because I am tired and yes, it is only 9:33pm here, we're still thinking about that house. In fact, one of my coworkers actually asked if we bought it b/c it had been a while since I had talked to her and about the house specifically. So the answer to that question is no. No, we haven't bought it, but dear husband and I both agree that if someone did buy it that we would be pretty upset. So it must be revisited. Just not tonight on this fall Tuesday.
I'm ready for Halloween. Too bad we have only one potential trick or treater.

Tommy

The Who's Tommy is the first live performance I saw. It started with a solo trumpet, followed by several tubas. Then the entire field started moving.

In a few short weeks I'll be returning to my alma mater to realize how I came to love fall.

Camp is over, practice starts at 4:40. 6:10 and we are called to the podium.

Eyes with pride.

It's so hard to describe. I watched the innaugural video tonight. I was more moved by the 1997 version of Tommy--the first show I saw where the band performed.

I saw my friend, one year older, past color guard captain, a role I had taken on, in that sea of red, now white.

Sure, you can listen and see the band here. But you can't feel it the way I do.

We performed it my graduating year. It's never the same. You're always being compared to the older class.

My old roommate is now 'back in my life' whatever that means. Right now I don't know what to think. I just know that my memories are kept alive by the music.

I can't wait to see it in the flesh on October 21st.

I can't even comment on the percussion either.

Inaugural Parade
Yes, I'm one of the blurry girls!

Tommy
But not the year I did it. This is the version I was referring to. 1997 edition.

Cadence
1994 version, not that I can tell the difference because they sound this way today.

quick II

I've just finished putting on my 'jammas. I had the pants on, now I wear the "outdoor divas" shirt that doubles as a sleep shirt. It's hot in our home and it smells like garlic from the homemade pasta sauce bub prepared.

He's watching a western in the other room even though he said he'd turn off the tv after House. I made brownies last night--and even added the called for pecans to the mix. They turned out wonderful but I like them when they're not quite finished baking. These turned out to be baked as the recipe called for.

I'm so tired and haven't been to sleep before 11 any night yet. I know this is early for some--and used to be for me--and then I learned that if you're not kind to yourself about your bedtime, the day which follows can bite you in the ass.

We met with an accountant--not my sister--to discuss the pros and cons of saving our condo and consuming the monthly rent that would come or sell it to use the profit to pay for our new house. We're feeling more knowledgable about the options, but not yet final with our decision.

There are things about our 1-bed that I like. I love hardwood floors--the shine, the laquer, the cleanliness. We have carpet. Newer, soft, fluffy. I grew up with both in my house and learned to appreciate the way carpet feels on barefeet and socked feet. I still like it better than wood floors.

We're on the top--fifth--floor and nothing compares to coming home to see the vivid wine walls against deep plush blue sofas. It screams comfort and cozy.

We have our little leak, our annoying faucet, our scabby shower paint that is starting to curl in one pesky spot, but it's home. It's where we live.

quick

it's friday, thank goodness!
we are off to the cape for a wedding. our first nuptials ceremony as hubby and wifey.
tonight we are watching our wedding video for the first time (if it arrives at work...i'm hoping so).
we are going to bloomy's to see if we can purchase some stuff off our registry: namely a pots and pans set (we got a new wok!) and luggage (we said bye-bye to bub's beat-up, old green bag after our HM).
i'm getting my nails done tonight and if i don't find something to wear to the 2pm wedding tomorrow afternoon my choices are a salty swimsuit or nothing at all.

Home

I told my mother about the house on my ride home from work tonight (read: I just got home--nice, huh?). She gave positive feedback: Oh, that's nice. Oh, it's good to look. Yes, it's a buyer's market. You're right to collect all your information and look. But she's very cautious about rewarding me with 100% positive feedback on something so new (our search for a house). It was strange to tell her about it because it seems like such a grown up thing to do.

For those of you who don't know, bub is older than me and owns our place now. So this is my first home-buying experience (we're not buying yet, don't worry), so for me, I don't know much, but I've learned tons from going through the looking process with bub for the place we live at now. I went through all the motions with him: make an offer, counter the offer, purchase and sale, home inspection, PAINT, MORE PAINTING, CLEANING, RUGS CLEANING, and the closing. Well, the closing happened earlier than the painting and cleaning. And my name doesn't appear on the deed or whatever because we weren't married--not even engaged--but I still feel like I'm full owner here since bub is so nice to have included me in as his painting buddy and cleaner : )

Anyway, enough house talk. I'm sipping some chianti reserva and remembering Italy and I don't want to write any more about the future. I want to dwell on now.

Folks, I'm dying here. My job isn't miserable. It's just dry as hell. I have started breaking my golden rule which is, I've been looking--quickly--at job boards while at work. I fear that someone will email me any day now and tell me to pack my things and leave. My boss spoke to our HR rep behind closed doors the other day (I know this because I'm the only one in my department with a cube and can hear for miles) but couldn't quite hear their conversation and I fear my boss is getting ready to give me the boot.

Thing is, I don't care. Sad, huh? I'm ready for the NBT. (Next BIG Thing). I capitalize "big" because it needs to be. I'm 26 years old and it's about time I had a plan. I followed the college plan, then the "get a job" plan. And here I am. I've had a job. I've had 3 since college, including this one. And #4 needs to appear. And soon. So I'm ready. I'm energetic, creative, and fun. Bring it on; sign me up. Until then, I'll be wishing for water in my dry cube.

House

Dear Friends,

I write this as I sit at my desk at work because the House consumes my thoughts and because you all know how work has been going lately...so I'll try to keep this quick for fear I'll feel guilty about not working and writing this instead.

First, I like the TV show House and cannot wait for the new season to start.

Second, I had a dream last night that I was still at work with only 1/2 hour left to go before I was to be at the church getting married to bub. Go figure. Phew; at least I had my priorities in order in real life--I had already been off for 3 days before the wedding even took place.

Anyway, yesterday we went to see a house. It wasn't an open house since we weren't around last weekend and won't be around this weekend. Bub found it on the trusty MLS site and seeing as how, in a prior life, he was in real estate and seeing as how his best man and best friend, is our broker, I knew that some day he'd find something truly wonderful to get excited about.

So. He found it.

I'm not sure it's the "it" or it's the "one" or whatever. I don't want to get myself all worked up, but I know it's too late because I am. First, it scares the bejesus out of me because I knew we wouldn't stay in bub's 1-bed condo forever, but because this finding a house thingy is sort of happening quickly.

So last week bub sends me an MLS listing with pictures to said house. It looks nice, but they tend to take pictures of the good stuff only: shiny floors, bright windows, plush lawns, cute detached garage with flower box, screened in porch with tiny patio perfect for grilling. No photos were shown of the bathrooms (!), the kitchen (!!), or all the bedrooms (!!!)--so lots can be left to the imagination.

So we did a drive by. We drove by it slowly once. We backed up and drove by it again. We started to head back home when I said that I didn't get a good look since bub had been closer to it from where he was in the car than I was and I wanted to go back. So we went back.

He was excited about the thought of owning this house. He was excited about the classic look and style of it.

I was the negative nilly. It could be a craphole inside, I flatly announced. The kitchen could be a hole. The bathroom could be scary. The rooms could be tiny. The closets could be non-existant.

We drove home and I told him, let's make an appointment to see it since we can't go to the open house. And last night, I almost fell in love.

More after work if I can.

competition

I never really considered myself to be competitive. But I think I am.

I always wanted to be the one who did a better job, got the higher grade, received the most compliments, wore the prettier outfit...

But I feel like it's the personalities of others who bring out the competitive demon in me. For example, the wedding. It was our day, a most magical day, reflective of our tastes, personal characteristics (yes, we chose to have a Catholic wedding--mass and all), and everything about it was us. But you'd attend a friend's wedding just before and see that she had a photo montage playing all through dinner, an ice sculpture (she didn't, but this is just an example), and a tribute to deceased relatives. And I wondered, should we be doing this? Because we're not doing this, is that okay?

How silly does that sound?

I think part of the competitiveness stems from insecurity that what I do personally will not reflect my true character, my personality, me. And I think that by proving that I'm a worthy person, much more than a lavish wedding, someone who wants to feel like she's got style--I want to be thought of as more than that. I'm sure we all do. But lately I don't feel that I've given off that vibe.

People can suck you into being someone you're not. I don't blame anyone imparticular for feeling especially materialistic; the wedding industry thrives on it. But I like to think that my life isn't about competing. And it certainly shouldn't be about that when it comes to who I'm friends with.

I make a damn good pineapple upside down cake.

Happy Birthday to my husband!

I congratulated myself on Friday for at least two things.

First being that I told my boss I had jury duty (and I did) but made no mention that if I wasn't picked to serve that I would attempt to make it into the office.

When they released us at 11:00am that morning, I felt guilty for one moment after I heard someone who had also been in my jury pool call who I believe to be a colleague and say that they'll be able to make that conference call after all.

I felt guilty.

But then I snapped out of it. I mean, after all, this was my first jury duty experience and I needed to reflect on it the rest of the day.

The second item I congratulated myself on was appreciating the finer things. This all boils down--currently--to my career and the turn that it took a little over a year ago. To sum it up quickly and as painlessly as possible, it lacks creativity and moisture. So in turn that means it's on the boring side and it's dry. Yes, I know. A bad analogy, but give me a break, especially since we're a mere few hours away from the Monday morning blues.

So as I walked down Congress Street towards my husband's office (boy, do I sound grown up or what?? Husband!), and before I ran into him randomly as he stepped out to go to the bank, I took in the fact that I miss "the energy". Actually, when describing this feeling of excitement, sadness (I used to work in the greater Boston area), and yearning to work in the hustle and bustle of the city, it was my friend who said that she knew what I meant. That the city has this energy. And she nailed it dead on.

So I congratulated myself for taking in all the simple items of the city that I once took for granted for a mere 7 months: the especially windy air, the random people who chant "Let's go Red Sox" when you're not even near Fenway. The charged business people who are psyched that it's the weekend and gather in clusters to grab lunch, cure their hangovers, or maybe even start happy hour early. I visited H&M and DSW because at my job you can't walk to anything except for a Dunkin Donuts which happens to lie on a 2-lane highway nearby.

And the question in my head still persists: How come I can't work in Boston? How come I can't start my own thing? How come I'm at a job I'm not enjoying completely?

Lately, I feel like I've been in great spirits. I just married my best friend, I just had a most fantastic honeymoon, it's still summer and I don't dislike the fall, but will miss the warm temps, I'm starting over in a way with a new name, with new goals as a married 26-year old woman. Then there's the big BUT...and many goals to follow. One is that I make too many excuses as to why I do not accomplish things. This could be from exercising to cleaning to calling up my aunt who always calls me first. But I'm not sure I have a good excuse for not doing my own "thing"...whatever that is, I guess I should start to figure out. Because right now, I have no other plan B. I have no excuse.

Very honey moon

So...Italy.

I neglected to post about it earlier.

It was perfect.

I was nervous. Bub and I get grouchy when we travel to foreign countries overnight and then have to trek to the hotel only to learn that our room isn't ready and why don't we explore on our own for a bit until the proper check in time? Well it was different with Italy because after the 6:45pm flight which landed us in Munich at 8:45am the next morning and then the flight to Naples which got us there in the late morning/early afternoon, there was the hour or so train ride to Sorrento (our second city destination of the trip, although we wished we were "there by now") and then a good 45 minute bus ride to Positano. It's around 3pm at this time. And we aren't grouchy. And although no couple is perfect, I felt like our honeymoon was.

Lots of sunshine and heat made up for the overcast and drizzley day which was the weather for our wedding (we barely concerned ourselves with it). The swimming was the best of our lives so far. The winery tour in Florence, the private cooking class, the romantic evenings overlooking the scenic Amalfi coast really captured what this trip was.

Not a vacation. Not a European trip. Not time off. Our honeymoon. One and only.

We ate like there was no tomorrow. We drank and were merry--we only had one real drunken night because we wanted to appreciate everything--from the celebratory champagne to the house red wine to the sparkling light beer.

We saw David, the famous statue who made me an official art appreciator, if there is such a term. We saw famous paintings and learned about Da Vinci--and not because of the bestselling book.

I was withdrawn and melancholy with bittersweet feelings on our ride to Italy. Time on the plane does that to you. But it wasn't until we finally put our clothes in drawers at the first hotel we stayed at that Peter realized that I was bothered by our big day--our mere few hours in the limelight dressed up for all our family and friends was now a new memory; I needed to hear something positive. I needed some cheer.

Bub said: Look out the window. And I did. I saw out for miles, to the right and left, little terra cotta rooftops, rock, cliff, a blue-green sea you wonder about when you see it in a brochure for vacations. It really is that color. I felt the breeze on my cheeks, it playing into my hair slightly. I felt the warm sun on my scalp and heard children splashing in the ocean many feet steeply below. I turned to him and he said: Look. Just look. Don't miss out on this. We're married.

Yes we are.

Mrs.

I've tried to post the aftermath of the wedding here and my honeymoon too.

But for some reason, I can't get out what I want to say.

So for now, I'll simply type this:

Our day, our very special day was not ruined by raindrops, large fluffy things in the sky, or that I wore my blusher veil during the reception instead of the other one, as planned.

Our day was worth the stress, tears, energy, effort, endless planning and I wouldn't change one thing about it. Nothing is ever perfect, but I sure feel like my husband is.

But I want to take this post to thank some special people in my life: my family and friends.

I thought I would have been more emotional when I danced with my father.

Dad, I love you and we're so deeply connected by something I can't explain with a computer, not even with a pencil.

Mom, although we don't see things the same way--sometimes it feels like we never do--you only want the best for me and I for you. For a lack of a better sentiment, you were my rock.

Certainly not least, to my sister: I know this must have been an odd event for you; you're the eldest daughter, the one who should go before me in everything. And you have--but don't give up finding that one special person for you. You will. You were my other rock during this crazy time.

To all the rest of you out there--the ever important friends--you are a foundation I hope we have all the days of our lives. A best friend reminded me that she found letters we wrote one another during the summer when the Internet wasn't yet up and running so email wasn't around. She has the words I wrote to her when we graduated middle school, then high school, then college. They remind me how far we've come in our friendship.

I think there's so much more to come in life. A wedding is what it is--one day--most important to the two people who found love in one another. But it's the people who surround and shower you with life, they open your eyes on that day and make you realize who really cares, who has been listening, and that feeling is one of the best ones you can hold in your heart.

Thank you.
-Mrs. Ripe

I wanted to write last night, but the adrenaline ran out and I was left exhausted, but elated.

The rehearsal made today seem all the more real. It went smoothly and I felt great. Not only were loved ones starting to pop up in the area, here they were in the church I went to growing up, waiting for further instruction on how to process in, where to sit, stand and so forth.

It's been a busy 11 months. And an even busier past few days. The computer and refrigerator hums make it all the more ordinary--just another Saturday. My dad joked with me last night: "Big plans tomorrow?" I replied with "Not really; maybe I'll catch a movie."

To some this is any other day, but for me this is the first taste of married life, this is me giving my complete self before loving witnesses to my soul mate. And although I'm not too sure about the term 'soul mate' it's because Hallmark likes to make money off it.

Seriously though, I can't imagine not being with bub. Not because he's been in my life for five years and a day. It's because we've worked hard on our relationship, on our laughter and tears, on our smiles and bad days, and on our love for one another.

It is work; whoever said that relationships are, is right. But I believe that's because we are always changing--day to day, month to month, year to year. And although that's all fine and well, when your love withstands these changes, you know you've found something really special, someone really special to give your heart to.

My advice to the cyberworld readers, if there are any is simple: never let go of the fuzzies you feel when you meet someone; the feeling can and has the potential to last an eternity.

-ripe

Trying to feel

I've been asked more and more about my excitement about the event that will occur in just 4 days. And more and more I feel forced about what I reply with: Yeah! Of course! Very excited! And by replying with these words, I've lost sight of how I really feel.

But I'm not feeling anything except for what I have left to do, how I should feel, and I'm getting worried that I'm not excited enough at this very moment.

Bub tells me it will come and don't get me wrong, I get these bursts of excitement when I'm in my car and I just sort of yell. Or I'll be sitting at my desk and think I'M GETTING MARRIED!

I guess I don't believe it. I guess I've been waiting so long and trying to remedy my lines that I haven't had time to think that there's a whole weekend coming up.

I'll be ready for it. I promise!

stuff

bub is in the other room cooling off after we got caught in the heat.

the computer is sort of loud but i'm appreciating the cool a/c that we are so spoiled to have on all the time.

i just confirmed with the last of our ceremony musicians. she wished me good luck this week and i giggled.

i'm feeling bummed that i missed a friend's birthday party last night due to a final fitting which wasn't final. the bustle wasn't finished and we have to go back for another fitting before picking up the dress. i'm such a perfectionist. sorry i missed it daily editor!

i have chips and salsa crumbs on my tongue and i'm exhausted. i laid out in the sun today to get some natural color to blend in with my old burn/tan lines. this will be the death of me if i don't find a way to magically whip up my skin.

i cannot even believe that my wedding is this week.

i've never worked so hard on martha stewart type projects, researched so many vendors, ideas and juggled a zillion details all for one of the most special days a couple can have. i've worked hard on things like a college degree and interviewing for a new job but this is a different preparation a different milestone.

this is me giving my complete self to someone who was once a stranger, an acquaintance, a friend and boyfriend, and now a partner for life, my love.

i'm not going to sleep all week, i just know it!

a most personal experience

so. the alarm sounds and i wake thinking my god, i fell asleep without brushing my teeth or washing my face.

we had sushi last night--a really nice non-wedding night and surprisingly a non-wedding conversation was had. not that we're not excited about the fact that we'll be saying our vows in a week and a few hours, but our lives have been saturated with all the planning and anticipation that it's nice to have a breather.

i enjoyed myself despite the canker sore i have which spawns most of my right upper lip. ewww, gross. it is healing, however. that didn't matter to my coworkers who kept at it with the jokes about how i wasn't moving the right side of my mouth while talking. bastards.

so i figured okay--i have some tan lines, a canker sore, and now possibly a new zit forming from my lack of washing the old visage last night. great. but i can think about all those things and even concentrate on the canker sore pain--since this morning i'm going to bare it down there for my first brazilian wax experience.

that's right. i'm living proof that the most scared, cowardly, baby can do this.

i made it through.

i filled out a form which asked questions like "is this your first experience? we don't recommend that if the area has been sunburned, etc. that you get treatment". on the top of the "have you taken these medications?" list was accutane, a drug i took in college which thins out your skin and although it cleared up my skin, it's been in the news as a not so great side effects drug (read: suicide, back and head pain, if you get pregnant, your children will be deformed--no joke--type of drug). so after checking off the accutane box i wondered if they were going to send me home, but instead this tall blond woman who was their poster lady for one of their products line assured me i'd be walking out in fine condition but that it may hurt only DURING the process. Um, ok. I don't get that I pay $70 plus tip to be inflicted with pain, but I DID make the appointment.

The receptionist called out these parting words as I stepped into the waxing room: "I'm sure you've been through worse!" Yeahhh....right.

So I was instructed to strip from waist down and put my head on the table like so so that if someone accidentally walked in on me, there I would be, spread eagle. Great! So I started second guessing her instructions when she came in and I realized my God, this woman is not my doctor or Bub or ME--a complete stranger is going to start messing around down there with wax.

So the short of it is that the wax was hot and the ripping was more tender in some areas. The thing that was most disconcerting is that about 5-10 rips in, I wondered when the f this was going to end. She was really nice, tried to make wedding conversation and I tried to return the favor and make small talk with her. Anything was better than the flinching, sweaty palms thing I was doing to keep from thinking about how I must look...down there.

Then I got the "Do you want me to do the back?"

What?!

UM...I told her I had no clue what that meant. I got a blank expression and then a well, there's hair down in back (read: VERY close to your BUTT) so I was like ummmm and that's what I said "ummmm" and she said it's part of the price and you may as well. So there I am, butt in plain view and at that point I was a pro.

I didn't even flinch.

13 days

Less than two weeks to go, folks...The countdown continues. I feel like the wedding is still distant, still a month or more away. I know this isn't true. I know it. I have told people numerous times when it is and I get oohs and ahhs over how close the big day is. I get emails from friends wondering how I feel. Am I ready? Am I nervous? What is it like? And I would like to tell you as plain as can be what it's like:

But I can't. My mind is a whirlwind on figuring out how to finish programs, waiting for the rest of the favor materials to come in so I can put them together, determining where one gets children's jewelry and other wedding party gifts. I stay up late thinking about what other things I need to do, I wake up early with the same thoughts.

When I figure out the above and finish a bunch of other little details, I'll get back to you.

I will say this one thing, when I was at the store yesterday paying for a new pair of capris I wanted to reach over to the unassuming cashier and scream I'M GETTING MARRIED IN TWO WEEKS! But I thought better of it and swiped my card, signed, took my bag and went on my way.

I'm trying not to rush.

Yesterday, I did my usual guilt trip/bug Bub session as we still had a number of items pertaining to the ceremony to figure out.

When we made progress--when we finished almost all of what needed decision making, I thought: wow, I feel like I just rushed us through that.

Bub kindly pointed out that we had revisited the little ceremony booklet to choose readings and excerpts about four times. I felt better, but couldn't help but think that we'll never pick readings out for a ceremony tailored just for us again. We'll never choose cake flavors that we'll cut with specific cake cutting knives and servers just for us and our reception party. First dances will not be selected again, only second, third, and fourth ones until we're old and gray and at our kids' weddings.

All of this wedding talk, decision-making, and buzz has seriously gone straight to my head. On top of it all, I've added other outside stress, non-wedding related. Bub assures me I need to cover all my areas, check out all opportunities before passing them by. But why do I feel the need to handle this extra stress now? Because that's my personality: get it done, out of the way, cross it off the list.

Some day, I'm going to wish I still had a list of things to cross off and not merely a feeling of "It's done" in my heart.

I'm getting married this month and I know I'll have wedding blues after the day is over. But that won't compare to the man I will have married and the prospect of many wonderful years together.

If only I could feel excited about doing laundry and going to the gym.

One month exactly

And I will be nervous. It will be my wedding day. I expect lots of tears will flow. I expect I'll be a wreck, a ball of nerves, an elated, butterfly-stomached girl.

A girl. I'll feel like I'm not mature enough, ready enough, woman enough to be a wife. A mother. A soul mate.

But then I'll see the groom. I'll see the guy who found me not just in a dimly lit tavern, but found me at one particular moment in my life. That the urge to say hello, to approach me and then to call and get to know me.

I'll see my future. I'll see the future father, current love, caring friend, perfect person for me.

And the butterflies will fly away, the tears will dry, the nerves will cease to exist. I'll step up the altar. My maturity will collect, I'll stand tall. I can do this. I want to do this.

I'm ready.

Wax on...

Wax off.

So this topic has quickly made itself known in the message boards I often scope out (read: every day, practically every hour--I know--I'm a bridal geek).

The thing is, the only waxing I've ever experienced is that of my eyebrows. Pleasant? No. Then after taking a certain medication I was told to stay away from waxing.

Um, what ?

So what was a girl to do?

Tweeze.

And so that was fun. Then I learned about threading. And now here I am. Happy Threaded Girl.

So no, readers, this isn't a post about eyebrows, this is a post about brides thinking: Well it's my wedding, so I should do things I would never otherwise consider. And so now we're talking closer to the bikini wax area. But apparently for many brides, that's not enough.

Now we're talking about Brazilian waxes. No, I refer to them as the have you lost your mind wax? (Actually, it's more like you've lost all of you hair down there wax.)

I've just joined the bandwagon of crazy brides who feel the need to go out on a limb, act as if this is the last time to really live before the big day.

My brazilian is scheduled for sometime in the near future. NO details shall follow.

I don't care to admit it

But I will. I'm a full-fledged bridezilla.

B for the bitch that comes out when you're trying to square things away but you get so much input from your future husband, mother, maid of honor. The comments that come with every wedding planning conversation, the looks, the grunts of "Why do it that way?"

R for the righteous attitude I pathetically display. The underlying tone of "It's right/easier/better this way." Bub hates this. I know he wonders why I get bent out of shape if we switch a reservation for a wedding trolley, play with where the dance floor goes...it never ends.

I for the idiot I am--and feel like after I nag, pester, and obsess about many unimportant items. That's right folks, there are many unimportant items, but it's the insane pressure I feel to impress, impress, impress.

D is for dumbass. I hate it when vendors are slow, unreasonable, and OVERPRICED!

E is for exhausted. After finishing the weekend's running around from Friday after work through late yesterday afternoon, I was exhausted. Wedding, wedding, wedding! It's definitely my full-time job!

ZZZZ...I'm too tired to post more.

33 days to go. Yes, I am excited, yes the planning is certainly coming along, and yes, I owe Bub big time for being a Bridezilla. Someone tell me to chill!

just me

Sometimes I wonder what happened to the old me, the girl who wrote crazy lines--poetry, I guess. The girl who whipped out papers the night before they were due, the girl who wrote stupid shit on napkins at bars and gave them to cute boys after too many beers. The girl who everyone knew would do her publishing thing and perhaps write a book.

To me I feel like writing is a dirty word.

I don't know what I'm trying to say. I guess I've had a lot of wedding on the brain (hence my last post), but in a way, I feel like I've stepped away from me, away from the everyday. I'm trying to figure out my career crisis--and you all know what it is. Law school it's not. I'm trying to figure out what the next step is "digitally"...I'm trying to picture being a Mrs. Trying to picture how I was motivated, how I was passionate. Bub assures me I am still all these things, but how do we lose sight of who we are? And how do I have so much of this back and forth going on and I'm only 26?

I'm so afraid of regret and so afraid of making a mistake. But how can I prevent them if I don't know what they are?

I feel like I'm getting dumber by the day, molding myself into the corporate bath water, "fitting in". They never gave us a class on that and we've been doing that since birth.

I've felt it harder to be "me" around friends--almost as if being a "grown up" changed that. I'm not talking about broken friendships, I'm talking about how I feel like there's so much to do with one's life. But where does one even begin?

It's been a long while since I've written truly and deeply. I come here to report on stuff. But that's not me. That's an article about the day's events. I feel like just as my job is as cut and dry as can be, that's what my writing has turned into.

And no one can wrap that up in pink.

Wedding Brain

I just thought I'd take a little time to let out what's going on in my head so that I can focus on work.

I want to search wedding web sites all day long in the quest for comfortable shoes. I bought one pair, but I'm afraid of the pain factor.

I still don't know how to wear my hair.

Bub is taking a long time with his ideas for wedding favors.

I can't wait to get paid so that I can buy, buy, buy.

I feel like it's Christmas with all the shopping for gifts I have to do.

Someone reassure me it won't be 100 degrees on July 22nd or raining.

I still don't konw what to wear for a necklace or if I need one at all.

Same with earrings.

I finally got underwear--nothing too frilly for under the dress. It's all about no lines and comfort!

I'm now the proud owner of lingerie. In my 5 years with Bub, I had nothing--not even cute undies.

I want to search wedding web sites all day.

Happy Birthday

Today is my mother's birthday.

Happy Birthday Mum!

I just got home from the festivities and found...a gift for me. What?

The IRS has sent me a couple of items. The last time they sent me something it was to show me my taxes got torn (looked like they were burned) while being processed or sorted in the mail.

So when I finally got my act together and resent them, I get these things from the IRS today.

Maybe I'm going to jail. Maybe I'm going to court.

Or maybe, something got messed up--and I get a CHECK for $800.

Yes, that's it--I got a note saying that I had an error on my taxes and that my check would be forthcoming for $800. And guess what readers? That check came in the mail tonight!

Happy Me! Happy paying wedding bills, credit cards, and new lingerie for the big night! : )

Slug

Ladies and Gents:

I feel like a slug.

I haven't danced and drank like that since I was in college...whoa.

Last night was a blast!

Some of the girls came over to pick me up and have a toast to the fun night that it would be.

Bub took pictures of me donning my tiara (which hurt my head so bad!) and my long veil. I felt like a princess. I never ever wish people to think I act like one or should be treated like one, but last night I felt like one in the right kind of way.

We hit the town and ate like Queens at Maggiano's. Then we did it up right at The Liquor Store. I "attempted" to ride the bull, but the liquor wasn't flowing quite enough. I was definitely embarrassed as I tried to get onto the frigging thing! What is all this gym time for if I can't even place my caboose on the moose??? Apparently we missed out on the hardcore riding which occurs every Friday night--as you wear a bikini...

I had a ball and very good friends were close by to shake their groove thang.

I do feel like a slug as my body is trying to figure out what the hell happened last night. I'm sore, but at least I'm not strapped to the toilet crying for mercy.

And I wore comfy shoes, so no problem there. I'm such a grandma.

Happy Second Half of the Weekend! Thanks to all who made it a fabulous night! : )