Tomorrow Is Another Day...

Oh What A Week

Wel, last week was such a jam-packed crazy bunch of days, and now I find myself exactly back where I was last Saturday.  Colby finally got home from a three-week long trip last Saturday and on Sunday his parents came in town for a few days to see the Charleston sights and help us out with projects around the house.  We finally got around to installing a dog door on the porch, a microwave over the range, tore out some old ugly plants and put in some new lilies and dahlias, and generally ate our way around the city.

It's been a challenge teaching the dogs how to use the dog door.  Jack will go through it on his own about 50% of the time, but Ellie will only go through if she sees Jack do it first or if you lift the flap for her so that she can see through it.  I'm trying to step back and let them figure the door out on their own now that they've been in and out through it a number of times with assistance, but mostly they end up circling the porch unable to figure out how to get outside, or stuck out in the yard, staring at the screen door.  This is my entertainment.

I started the South Beach Diet a couple of weeks ago in an effort to improve my diet which had deteriorated to X-tra Cheddar Blast Goldfish for lunch and cereal for dinner and hopefully lose a couple of pounds of fat that are covering my super sweet Jillian Michaels muscles.  The diet went well for the first week and I lost about three pounds, all of which were returned to my butt as I totally fell off the wagon and ate every carb and high calorie item I came across while my inlaws were in town.

It was a fun week, but now things are back to "normal" as Colby is once more out of town on a trip, I'm restarting my diet, and instead of planning an itinerary of Charleston attractions, I'm working on a lesson plan about place value in math.

Hm, this post is so uninteresting, I just got distracted by the Weather Channel.  Here's hoping you're having a significantly more exciting weekend than I am!

Medical Revelations

It was an interesting week of doctor's appointments.  As further proof that I'm literally falling to pieces in my old age, I went from not having been to a doctor's office in almost three years, to three visits in one month.

My first appointment last week was to deal with the mild form of leprosy that has been spreading over my body for the past couple of weeks.  Much like the Wizard of Oz, the doctor asked all kinds of questions through his medical assistant before he even saw me, and by the time he came in, he'd already determined that I was afflicted with some form of poison ivy.  So, well done blog friends!  I now bestow upon you honorary doctorates in poison ivy detection.  I still don't know exactly when I touched poison ivy, but I'm now terrified to go out in the garden wearing anything less than a HAZMAT suit.

I've tapered down from a high dose of prednisone last week, to just one tablet per day today and tomorrow, plus Claritin to fight the allergy.  I'm still the slightest bit itchy, but a miraculous amount of healing has taken place in the last four days.  I can now wear short sleeve shirts without scaring small children, and while my legs are healing more slowly, I think I'll be back in skirts and shorts by the end of this week.

Unfortunately, I had to follow up that appointment with another visit to the doctor to have my lady business explored.  Now, I've never had anything out of the ordinary happen at one of these oh so joyous appointments, but I suspected something might be amiss as the doctor spent more than double the time and effort on my exam than any other doctor has in the past.  He was quick to assure me that I shouldn't read anything into this, and that this is just a precautionary check, but he scheduled me for an ultrasound next month.  Apparently my uterus hasn't had its V-8 today and seems to be tilted further forward than it should be.

I've been hesitant to spend too much time with Doctor Google after the disaster of diagnosing my last itchy malady, but honestly, how could I not do at least a couple of searches.  I'm glad I did, as in a strange turn of events, the internet actually made me feel better rather than worse about the situation.  Tipsy uteruses (uteri?  uterii??) seem to be a fairly common situation, and from the testimony of many poorly spelled message board missives, don't seem to really affect fertility.

Of course, I've always had this massive premonition that I'll have a difficult time getting pregnant when the time comes, so I can't help but feel a little bit like this is just more proof in that direction.  But I'm trying really hard not to work myself up over it.  I'll have the ultrasound done on May 3rd, head to New York for a week the next day, then come back home and talk it over with my doctor.

The thing I'm most worried about right now is how I'll possibly drink that much water and not be able to go to the bathroom for two hours before the exam.  Maybe it's time to invest in some Depends and rubber pants.

Ashes, Ashes, I Always Fall Down

I'd like to begin by saying that I have officially become a true Charlestonian in my own, very special way.  I do a lot of things very well--I read quickly, I'm good with kids, I make a mean boxed macaroni and cheese--but one thing I do not do well is walking.  I am a TERRIBLE walker.

My poor mother enrolled me in ballet classes when I was just a wee thing, I'm sure with dreams of seeing her graceful daughter twirling around the stage in a gossamer tutu, and still I ended up being one of the klutziest people I know of.  I'm constantly tripping on things, misjudging depth and slamming my forehead into corners or walls, tumbling down stairs...  One of my biggest fears living in a two story house and being alone so often is that I'll somehow catapult off the top step and break my neck only to have my dogs eat my face and my husband discover my remains when he returns home from a trip two weeks later.

Long time readers may remember my graceful tumble down the hills of Seattle, not once, but twice within the span of about 60 seconds, prompting a kind Samaritan to doubt my sobriety.  That was also the experience that led to my phobia of walking down hills of any sort.  My heart leaps into my throat even thinking about descending a downward grade of more than 1%.  And yet, in my life, I have come to the conclusion that you never really live somewhere until you bite the dust there in a spectacularly painful and humiliating fashion.

Up until yesterday, I had managed to navigate the streets of Charleston with great success, and I think the heady rush of stability led to a sense of ambulatory overconfidence and my eventual downfall (pun intended).  There I was, walking down the treacherous sidewalks of the city, admiring the impressive architecture and chatting with a friend, when out of nowhere that sidewalk reached up, caught hold of my boot and dragged me down to the ground with impressive force.

The really ridiculous part was, as I observed the ground rushing toward my face, all I could think to myself was, "Oh my God, my boots are going to be so scuffed!"  As I pushed myself off of the ground, sadly taking in the shredded and scraped condition of my jeans and knees, and carefully brushed the gravel off of the remaining shreds of my dignity, I heard the sound of a car window rolling down and a voice floated out into the damp lowcountry air, "Are you okay?"  As I looked over at my friend Sarah and then back at the family gazing out of their car in surprise and concern, I felt a sense of what can only be described as relief.  It had to happen at some point, and now I have that awkward first time behind me.

And then the throbbing began.

Kind of A Fun Few Days

Oh, blog, how I have missed you while I've been busy dashing hither, thither and yon with a variety of amazing people.  Over the past week and a half I've conducted a grand tour of the Southeast and have been quite impressed with what I've found.

Last weekend I headed west for a girlie weekend in Atlanta with my dear friend Melissa.  We visited the Olympic park, ate at a delicious Italian restaurant (Baraonda, if you ever find yourself starving on Peachtree street), then discovered a bar that was serving $5 hurricanes.  Being that the origin of Melissa and my friendship is in our days at LSU and many of those days were spent wandering the streets of New Orleans, we were suitably impressed by this discovery.  After staying up until 4 am chatting about God knows what, we let ourselves sleep in and then headed out to brunch, ever so slightly after noon, and spent the rest of the day wandering around downtown, napping, and then eating some more.  It was a wonderful weekend, that in retrospect included a vast amount of caloric intake, but I wouldn't change a thing!

I returned home Monday and immediately transitioned into hostess mode, whizzing through the house cleaning and organizing before my parents arrived that evening.  They spent the week with us and we managed  to cram more Charleston sightseeing into that week than I've done in two months of living here.  We took a boat trip out to Fort Sumter, did a walking tour of historic Charleston, bought sweetgrass baskets at the downtown market, visited the Angel Oak on John's Island, toured the Charleston Tea Plantation where we sampled Charleston Breakfast tea, drove down to Georgia for a beautiful day in Savannah, and ate at scads of amazing restaurants.  It was such fun, and I'm more in love with Charleston now than ever.

My parents left yesterday, and today I'm getting back to my current version of real life.  I'm starting my first of the only three classes I have remaining in my Master's program before I can start student teaching, and I have piles of laundry yet to get through.  It sure would be nice to be retired and living down in the heart of Savannah with a battalion of hired help right about now!

Down the Rabbit Hole

It has been quite an eventful week here at Chez Blackwood.  We've been here, there and everywhere and life doesn't show much sign of slowing down.

After I left you last, we dropped off the pups at the House of Disease and headed down to Florida to visit some friends and see the shuttle launch.  Unfortunately, the clouds didn't cooperate and at 4:14 am they made the decision to cancel the launch.  This was a pretty big bummer, but we loaded ourselves back in the car and started the drive back to our friend's house.  When I glanced over at a red light and notice that Colby's blinks had become extremely extended, I made the decision that I needed to be driving.  If anyone is going to kill me, I want it to be me, you know?  So, we got home around 7:15 in the morning and all collapsed into bed for a pre-Super Bowl nap.

The Super Bowl was amazing to watch, made even more so by the fact that I was able to find lambic at the liquor store next door, so I could pretend to drink beer with everyone else!  It was an incredible feeling to see the Saints win, and I think all of us Louisianians are still having a really difficult time believing that actually happened.  We managed to settle ourselves in for another short winter's nap, then woke up again at 3 am to drive to the Jacksonville beach in the hopes of seeing the shuttle launch in the distance.  And I can't lie--I wasn't all that hyped up for the launch, but I have to admit, seeing that shuttle blast up into space and bend around the horizon was awe inspiring.  We could even see the two rocket boosters drop off the shuttle and fall back to the ocean.  Crazy cool.

We got back home all in one piece later that day and picked up the dogs, who seemed fine at the time, but since then, poor sweet Jack seems to have incubated a lovely case of kennel cough.  He's been through much worse, so for now I'm just keeping an eye on him to see if it gets any worse over the next day or two.  Everything I've read says to keep infected dogs isolated from other dogs, but that's really just unrealistic in our house, so we'll also watch Ellie and hope that she doesn't come down with a case.

This weekend was another one filled with fun.  We celebrated a friend's birthday on Friday with good food and strong margaritas, then Valentine's Day rolled around and we decided to stay in and make our own delicious dinner.  Chef Colby started the parade of gourmet delights with homemade bruschetta, then followed up with bacon wrapped filet mignon with goat cheese and a balsalmic vinegar reduction, garlic and basil penne, and grilled asparagus.  It... was... fantastic.  The only thing that could have possibly been better in a restaurant is the fact that someone else did the dishes!

Last night I went to my first wine shop book club meeting and enjoyed a glass of merlot and wonderful conversation with some great ladies then came home to not one, but TWO king cakes.  And of course we've been watching the Olympics and I am completely flummoxed by the figure skating scoring system, but was thrilled to see Shen and Zhao win after hearing their beautiful story.  Part of what I love about the Olympics is the joy of rooting for the home team, but also the support and love you begin to feel for competitors from other countries.

This week will be spent prepping for my parents to visit next week and my weekend trip to Atlanta to visit my dear, sweet friend Melissa who I haven't seen since my New York City bachelorette party.  I usually take the couple of days before my parents get here to frantically clean and organize the house, but since I won't be here I'll have to trust that Colby doesn't cause too much destruction while I'm gone.

I hope you all enjoyed your weekend, and don't forget to indulge today on Mardi Gras!  Drink an Abita, eat some Zapps and then proceed to feel immensely guilty and attempt to atone for all of you indiscretions over the next 40 days!

The Friend Fade

I don't believe it's possible to live a life without regrets.  Do I think that people should wallow in regrets or let those regrets hold them back in any way?  Absolutely not.  But show me a person who says they truly have no regrets, and I'll show you a liar.  Heck, just today I've racked up at least a dozen--I regret not going for a run, I regret that I forgot to file my unemployment claim last week so now I won't get paid, I regret not making a hair appointment sooner because my hair is driving me absolutely batty.  I could go on at length, but those are a pretty telling random sampling.

But I have big lifetime regrets as well.

There are two people whose friendship meant the world to me for a brief moment in my life, but because of time or immaturity I didn't hold on to.

One was a friendship that died because of the inevitable impossibility of three teenage girls being able to sustain the "best friends" relationship long term.  I'm not even sure that three adult women are capable of being best friends without any friction or hurt feelings, but leave this task in the hands of three fifteen to sixteen year old girls and there are bound to be fireworks.  The bad kind.  More like Surface to Air Missiles, actually.

The other girl was one with whom I became close friends my senior year in high school and then bonded with further through our college years.  In retrospect, I realize that friendship also started out with three of us, and quickly deteriorated into a two person situation.  I'm like the Grim Reaper of friendship--make friends with me and fear for the life of your outside relationships.  I leave behind a blazing trail of razed and mangled friendships.  Anyway, that one was all well and good until I graduated from college and moved out of state, leading to an ever-slowing trickle of emails and phone calls which eventually ground to a halt.

The first friend, I actually did hear from when I was in college.  She emailed me with a much justified and understandable, "Hey, so after all of these years, can we talk about what the hell happened?"  I wrote back and we traded a couple of emails and talked about meeting up, but then I went through a nightmare of a breakup, the whole world became all about me and my woes and heartache, and I can't exactly remember how that correspondence fell off the wheels.  I was too busy starving myself and reading self-help books and angsty poetry.

There are still days when I think about reaching out.  Through the magic of the internet and my overwhelming curiosity, I have a basic idea of how their lives have turned out, at least in the big picture sense.  If I really wanted to, I know that it would be pretty easy to get in touch with both of them.  So, I guess my biggest regret is not losing their friendship in the first place, but knowing that I'm not brave enough to make the first step toward reconnecting.  Is it a regret that I lose sleep over, or that haunts my every waking moment, no.  But it is one that crops up in a big way from time to time when I'm feeling particularly nostalgic.

I know that even if we did touch base again and exchange a couple of emails, nothing would ever change the hurt that I caused one friend or compensate for the length of time we've been out of touch.  It's a sort of "let sleeping dogs lie" response, and sure, that may be cowardly, but after all of this time I find it hard to believe that they're sitting at home on a Monday night wondering about me.  So, that's the excuse I've allowed myself to use, and I just make do with a google or facebook search here and there to quell any lingering curiosity.

Oh my God, I am such a stalker.  I definitely regret that, but not as much as I regret the fact that I haven't eaten a brownie today.  At least that last one can be fixed, pronto.

Angela's Guide to Overcoming Laziness

Step 1: ...

Sooooo, that's still a work in progress.

I have been making great efforts to actually Get Up!  Off of the Sofa!  And Do Stuff!!  I would say overall it's been a fairly successful endeavor, but I've got to tell you it's been a challenge.

Last weekend was filled with enjoyment and nausea.  On Friday night I tried out a new restaurant, Virginia's on King and then took in a couple of sketch groups from the New York based Upright Citizens Brigade who came to Charleston to perform as a part of the city's four-day comedy festival.  Dinner was good, though not my favorite cuisine experience in the lowcountry so far, and the comedy was hilarious.  Saturday, a pal turned 30, so I headed over to her place where we managed to relocate a couple of bottles of wine from their original containers to our stomachs and pass out on the sofa at an undetermined time.  I woke up Sunday, a little groggy and disoriented and spent the rest of the day trying to make my house stop wobbling around every time I got up to go to the bathroom or eat a donut.

Oh, and then I WATCHED THE SAINTS WIN THE NFC CHAMPIONSHIP!  Look, I'll admit it, I'm totally a bandwagon fan.  It's not that I was ever opposed to the Saints, it's just that I never watched professional football, so I was pretty neutral one way or another.  But come on, they're my home team, they're tearing it up out there on the field and I'm damn proud of them.  Does that make me a super-fan?  No.  But you can bet your sweet ass I'll be cheering from the deepest place in my soul while they're playing in the Superbowl.

Anyhow, after the excitement of last weekend, I retreated deep into my introvert cave to recharge my socialization batteries.  I've made a bit more progress around the house as far as organizing the daunting piles of crap we still have stored behind closed doors.  Colby comes home next weekend, and I'm hoping the next week will be spent in a massive attack on the projects that try as I might, I simply can't (read:don't want to) do by myself.

This weekend should be a quiet one, so I'm planning to finish a book, work on a little scribbling of my own and potentially try out my new Jillian Michaels DVD.  There's also a pretty good chance that I some point, I'm going to work in a cupcake, just to counteract the harmful effects of too much healthy exercise.

I Couldn't Stop Rear-Ending People!

Can I get a "that's what she said", from any of my devoted Church of Michael Scott followers?

But really, that's all I dreamt about last night, and it was crazy disturbing.  The night before last, I absolutely could not fall asleep.  The harder I tried, the more wide awake I felt, which was really ridiculous because I was exhausted.  I finally dropped off around 6 in the morning and woke up around 10:30.  Last night I was nervous about whether I'd be able to fall asleep, so after the somewhat surreal experience of watching the second to last Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien, I stayed up and read until about two when it felt like I was really fighting off sleep.

Happily, I was asleep within about thirty minutes of closing my eyes, but what followed was dream after dream featuring a faulty brake pedal and one run in after another with the disgruntled victims of my driving malfunctions.  It was the most frustrating dream--I would press as hard as I could on the brake pedal, but try as I might the car would not come to a full stop.  The car would slow down a little, but not enough to prevent me from careening into the car in front of me.  At one point, I caused a chain reaction accident involving six cars in front of me.  My subconscious does not screw around.

Anyway, generally speaking, my dreams don't really stick with me once I wake up, and I'm not usually much of one for dream analysis.  But for some reason, this dream really struck a chord with me.  I'm still mulling over my feelings about this dream in my own head, and I hesitate to even write them here because I don't know if words of advice (however wise, kind and well intended) are what I want or need right now.

It's safe to say that I do spend a lot of time questioning the path down which my life is going right now.  Not my relationships with people, but questioning my life choices, my future career possibilities, my "time line", my schooling and so on.  Wondering if I'm making choices because they're what I want or if it's because they're what seem the most appropriate from the outside looking in.

My life is in such a state of flux right now, and it seems like a poor time to be making big decisions about the future.  But sometimes it just isn't possible or realistic to take life a day at a time.  Sometimes you do have to think ahead a few months or a few years.  I'm not sure what my brain was trying to tell me last night, but today I'm feeling very unsettled.  And I just really, really hope that dream car accidents aren't reported to your insurance, because if so, our premium is going to skyrocket.

Tormented by Timing

Timing is everything these days.  Two weeks left in our house.  Less than a month left in Washington.  One month until we visit our families for the holidays.  A month and a half until we close on our new house.  And that's just the moving related timing.

Lately I've been starting to think very hard about the future.  As my life is currently scheduled out, I will take the next term off of school to deal with the move.  I was hoping to return to class in January, but because I get a reduced military tuition, I have to take off the entire term, meaning I won't return until March.  That will put me finishing classes at the end of August, and *hopefully* beginning my 16-week student teaching period from September through December of next year.

At which point I will begin looking for an actual teaching job.  In a county that just laid off all of its first-year teachers and is now hiring back RIF-ed teachers and those laid off first year teachers before even looking at any outside applicants.  In a county that is not even currently in need of substitute teachers.

If I am *lucky* I'll be able to find a teaching job for the 2011/2012 school year.  At which point I will be just months away from turning twenty-nine.

And let me let you in on a little secret.  I've been thinking a lot about babies lately.  And I don't think I'm the only one in my household whose mind has edged a little closer to that track.  Am I ready to start popping out infants the moment we get to Charleston?  No.  But am I thinking it's a little unlikely that I'll actually want to hold out another 4 years or so until we're settled into our next assignment?  Yes.

Another factoid that is less than a secret is that I have no desire to be a working mother.  I place absolutely no judgment on those who ARE working mothers, and in fact I appreciate their decision at least in part for the fact that it's currently keeping me in a job.  But I've worked in daycares off and on for my whole life.  They can be really wonderful environments for a child, but that's just not how I want my child raised.  We're lucky enough that Colby's job could support a family independently, so it is my hope that I can be home with our children.

But are we seeing how the time lines are starting to get a little mangled at this point?  If I finish school and start teaching in the fall of 2011, that's right around the time that I'm starting to think I may want to get pregnant.  And so I sit here wondering, have I just thrown away all of this money on my education?  Is it the right thing to continue spending thousands of dollars on a Masters degree that, it is beginning to look highly likely at this point, I'll never get to use?

I honestly don't know what to do.  There's a big part of me that feels completely disappointed in myself.  Why did I wait so long to pursue my teaching dreams?  Why can't I be a more modern gal and be okay with the idea of working and raising a family?  If I don't stay in school, what the hell am I going to do with myself for the next few years until I actually manufacture a child?  Am I just being a giant quitter?  I have no idea.

I've got just over three months to figure this out, and if the speed at which the past three months have flown by is any indication, that is no time at all.  Maybe it's time to pull out that Magic 8 Ball?

So Cultured I Should Be in a Petrie Dish

Current count of Washington days remaining?  Forty-three.  And nine of those will be spent house hunting in South Carolina.  So, I've been a bit busy to say the least.  I've been working regularly.  We've been working to keep the house presentable on a regular basis should any prospective renters want to check it out.  And of course we've been doing all of those fun Washington things that we won't be able to do in a month and a half. 

Over the course of two weeks I went with friends to see Pink Martini in Tacoma, with my opera pal to see La Traviata at the Seattle Opera, and then on a double date to see A Streetcar Named Desire at the Theatre on the Square in Tacoma.  Pink Martini put on an incredible show and reminded me of a band that would have played at The Tropicana with Ricky Ricardo.  La Traviata was absolutely gorgeous and deliciously tragic, and Streetcar was thoroughly depressing but surprisingly well performed for a community theater presentation.

Aside from that we've just been continuously freaking out about the move.  We leave on Monday to spend a little over a week getting to know the Charleston area.  We're going armed with an army of worksheets, an extensive spreadsheet of houses we've been tracking, a preapproval letter, and the knowledge that the government is completely unsympathetic to our flight. 

When we bemoan the state of our mortgage situation, helpful folks tend to remind us of the house-buying program for mlitary members who are being made to move during the current housing crisis.  Bummer for us, we bought our house two months too early to qualify for that program.  Then when the internet made me aware of the fact that the home-buyers tax credit has been extended through 2010 and is now available to current home owners, I actually got my hopes up for a moment before finding the fine print specifiying that eligibility is restricted to people who have owned their homes for more than five years.  We're hovering right around three.  You know, it's not that I expect the government to bail me out, and I fully appreciate the fact that there are people who are in far worse situations than I, but it's still a little disheartening every time you realize that some people are eligible for handouts and you aren't.  But still, I'm a firm believer is smaller government anyway, so whatever, I DON'T WANT YOUR NONEXISTANT MONOPOLY MONEY ANYWAY, AMERICA!!

So, that's pretty much that.  I'm excited about Halloween this weekend and the chance to spend a whole day thinking about something OTHER than the jumble of debt to income ratio, neighborhood crime statistics, and the vast difference a 5.0% interest rate can make on your mortgage payment as opposed to 5.25%...  Sigh.  In the words of Alice, it would be so nice if something made sense for a change.

Oh Frabjous Day, Callooh Callay

Look at me, being all positive despite adversity.  Rise above and all that.

Obviously, lots of fantastic things have happened lately.  Hawaii was smashingly fun, and I'd definitely do that again.  Then over the Labor Day weekend, we had some college friends come in town for the LSU v UW game.  We had a great time showing them the sights of Seattle and Tacoma, eating ourselves half to death, and of course watching the Tigers beat up on some Huskies. 

It was actually kind of hilarious--I think we managed to frighten and overwhelm a large number of Seattleites as 10,000+ LSU fans crashed into their city and turned it upside down.  I couldn't help but laugh as we walked through Pike Place Market on Friday and heard the mellifluous tones of Southern accents on every corner, LSU flags and stickers flying proudly from cars on the street, and I don't think I've ever heard any zydeco in Seattle until this past weekend.  The natives seemed a bit bemused by the influx, and we were asked on more than one occasion if we were here for some kind of conference organized by the university.

Um, yes.  It's a conference on a large grassy field upon which we take turns throwing a strangely shaped ball and ultimately defeat you.  It's lots of fun.

But there have been some other less thrilling events that have taken place over the past few weeks/days.  First, our offense is decent, but our defense is deplorable.  Then, I found out that the amazing opportunity I had at work to move to a closer site had fallen through when not enough kids were signed up for the before and after program at the school.  And my old site had already filled my vacated position.  And being that I'm moving in a little over three months, it wouldn't really make sense for me to start at a new site anyway.  So, I was offered a position subbing, which is better than nothing, but not the income we were hoping to be able to save for moving costs.

Still, things were looking up when I got a call to sub at a site both yesterday and today--I started to think maybe I actually will be able to get some hours!  So, I got all dressed to go, grabbed my name tag and a granola bar, went to start my car and... nothing.  Nothing but a click, click, click... whine...  Sigh.  So, I called my boss and apologized profusely about the fact that there was no way I could get to work in the next 20 minutes and instead of making money, we're going to be shelling out money to have God knows what on my car fixed.  And I'm stuck at home.  Not that I necessarily wanted to go anywhere mind you, but I don't like feeling stuck.

And on top of all that, I'm having the worst time getting my car signed over to Colby's name so that we can legally register it in Louisiana and not have to worry about changing it every time we move.  I thought I'd taken care of everything I needed to and was ready to go to court to argue my case, and then, I suppose unsurprisingly, the form that we paid a notary twenty bucks to fill out was filled out wrong.

So, there's that.  But to console myself I've taken to scouring realtor.com and reading Charleston message boards and dreaming of a life in the South where nothing ever goes wrong, money grows on trees, and the streets are paved in gold.  Maybe I could be a notary... twenty dollars for 10 minutes of work and a fancy stamp?  Not bad.

Oahu: The Island of a Bajillion People and Three Interstates

 

So, here's the thing, I'm just going to say it and accept the backlash that this controversial statement will likely create.  I just didn't like Oahu.  I could write paragraph after paragraph listing all of my reasons, but really they can all be summed up thusly:
1) Tiny island, LOTS of people.
2) Big city conventionality.

If you want to get a parking spot at the beach, you have to be there by 8 am, or walk miles from the closest available spot.  It may look like it will only take 10 or 15 minutes to get to Waikiki from the airport, but it will, in fact, take an hour.  And all of this in a place that has become nothing but a bite-sized, beach-side version of Times Square.  Were we miserable while we were there?  Well, sometimes we were, but overall, no.  Were we ready to go home when the seventeenth rolled around?  Yes.

But our hotel room was nice.

And our view was TOO DIE FOR.

 

But first!  We had to finish our Kauai "to do list".  No, I didn't make an itinerary, but come on, you didn't think I would go on vacation with at least SOME sort of goals in mind!  The morning before we caught our flight we woke up to the torrential downpour of Tropical Depression Felicia.  Lucky for us, she apparently had gotten wind of our schedule and was kind enough to clear up for our visit to the Kauai Coffee Company (tried the coffee--still hate it) and the Hyatt at Poipu for lunch (new goal--STAY THERE SOMEDAY).  The waves were still enormous, but the sun was shining, and we were crying on the inside as we headed off to the airport to do battle with the car rental agency.  It was, however, with a joyful heart that we waved goodbye to our crappy PT Cruiser, and soon we were back in the air, on the way to our next island.

We were greeted by a lovely rainbow over the mountains as we drove to Waikiki, but opted to stay in for the night as Felicia's rain had followed us.  We dined on delicious Wolfgang Puck Express Pizzas as we watched the mysteries of magic revealed on tv.  The next morning we dragged ourselves out of bed and headed to Pearl Harbor to visit the Arizona Memorial.  It was an intensely powerful experience, and I found myself not in the minority as a few tears made an appearance as I looked down into the oil-slicked water.  It wasn't the most uplifting moment of our trip, but I think a reminder about the true cost of freedom is important every now and then.

For lunch, we decided to check out Hickham AFB, where a few of our friends will be moving in the next few months, and then went back to the hotel to get ready for the Hale Koa luau that evening.  Now, I can't speak for other luaus, but I can tell you this, if you're looking for good food, hot men climbing coconut trees, women shaking what the good Lord gave them, and a delicious pina colada, then the Hale Koa luau is the place for you.  We were even treated to an adult contemporary hit of the late 80s as the MC sang his world famous chart topper, Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You.  (You have to watch that video--horses, beaches, sunsets, pink sundresses--you will NOT regret it.)  (I may or may not have downloaded that the minute I got back home.)  (I did.)  He's a high school teacher now.

The next morning we totally rejected the schedule we'd decided on the night before and slept until after ten.  Which meant that we began hiking Diamond Head around noon.  Bad Idea Pants.  Which leads me to a recurring observation we had about Hawaiian hiking levels--they say "easy", I say "It's not easy if you can't hike it with a pina colada in hand and not break a sweat."  They say "potato", I say "bullshit".  Fortunately, it was a fairly impressive sight once we heaved our broken bodies up the final step, and even more fortunately there was a moderately shady spot for me to sit.  Triple fortunate, and a damn good marketing strategy, there was a shave ice stand at the bottom of the crater.

We rewarded ourselves with a long afternoon at the beach across the street from our hotel, and that night had the great fortune of meeting up with a longtime "internet friend", Mandy, and her husband.  We met at the Outrigger Waikiki for dinner at the Hula Grill, then wedged ourselves into Duke's for an after-dinner drink.  It was so much fun to meet someone that I've felt so close to over the years without ever having actually met and have her turn out to be just as awesome in person as she is online.  I could have happily sucked down another couple of daiquiris, but we were all clearly wiped out by 9:30 and my stomach was already tying itself up in knots at the thought of our next morning's adventure...

Kauai Did We Have to Leave??

And then there was no internet.  We stayed in a great hotel on Oahu for the last five days of our trip, and they provided everything we could ever need, including internet for the low, low price of $9.95 per day.  Eye roll.  I know all 2 of you have been anxiously awaiting my next Hawaii update, so my deepest apologies for making you wait this long.  Let's finish up in Kauai today, shall we?

On the 9th we made our transition from our B&B in Princeville to one on the south shore, so we wanted to finish up all of the "things to do" on the north shore before heading down.  We started off with a hike to Queen Emma's Bath, an amazing naturally created pool in a lava rock formation right in the ocean.  Because 1) I am a chickenshit and 2) There were a lot of people jumping and splashing around in the pool, I opted not to actually get in the pool, but we had fun watching other people jump in. We finished up the north shore with a visit to Lumahai Beach where the "Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair" scene from South Pacific was filmed, and lastly Kilauea Lighthouse, a combination lighthouse and bird sanctuary--two for the price of one!

Our B&B in Lawai was... beyond words.  It was the most beautiful B&B I've ever stayed in with an absolutely spectacular view, and I'm already dreaming of going back again in our hopefully not too distant future.  I don't know if I want to share it with the world, but it's pretty popular already, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you that it was the Kauai Banyan Inn.  Just don't try to book the Ulu suite for the same time as us!  We discovered a couple of days before we left for our trip that a couple of our friends from college were going to be in Kauai while we were there, so that night we got together for a delicious dinner at Brennecke's on Poipu.

The next morning, we headed out to Waimea Canyon--the Grand Canyon of the Pacific.  Since I've never seen the ACTUAL Grand Canyon, I can't make a comparison, but Waimea was pretty dang impressive.  We drove to a few of the overlooks, then got down to the business of beach-going. 

We made our way to Poipu and I camped out on the beach with my book while Colby tried his hand at body-boarding.  He had fun for a little while, but eventually the waves began to overpower pretty much everyone out there as they grew in size.  It was one of the few effects of Tropical Depression Felicia that we felt, and it was actually pretty cool to see the 10-12 foot high waves and the locals body-boarding and surfing.  That night we opted to stay in and enjoy a quiet night on our private porch overlooking the old sugar mill and the ocean.

On the 11th, we went for breakfast at Eggberts in Ka'apa, then met up with our friends again and went to Wailua and Opa'eka Falls.  I was still in search of what I call a good "floating beach".  All of the beaches we'd been to so far were gorgeous, but they were covered in coral making them good for snorkeling, or pretty wavy making them great for surfing or body-boarding, but all I wanted to do was get in the ocean and float!  We FINALLY found the perfect floating beach in Salt Pond Beach and I just got on my noodle and floated to my heart's content all afternoon.

After we had our fill of floating, we packed up our mountain of beach gear and caravanned over to the Barking Sands military base where we walked the gorgeous beach and then offroaded a bit to Poli Hale State Park.  We watched the sunset at the state park and it really was the perfect combination of sandy beach, crashing waves, and dramatic cliffs at the start of the Na Pali Coast.  Unfortunately, on our way back to our B&B, our radiator busted on us, so the four of us ended up doing some late night "redneck camping" on our beach chairs and mats on the side of Kaumaulii Highway, waiting for the tow truck to rescue us.

It was certainly an interesting way to spend our last night in Kauai, but it's definitely one of those vacation moments I will always remember.  The next day Felicia finally hit the island and we were off to Oahu where we experienced a completely different side to Hawaii.

Back From the Mountains

I'm finally back on the blogging train after a nice long trip to eastern Montana where my parents and I met up to visit my sister at the summer stock theater where she is working.  It was a really great trip, and I enjoyed spending some time in a part of the country that I had never really considered visiting.  Now I can't wait to go back and spend more time hiking in the stunning Glacier National Park.

It was really fun watching my sister perform and getting to appreciate how much she has grown as an actress and singer over the past couple of years.  She made an amazing Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz and Irene Malloy in Hello, Dolly!  The theater itself was beautiful and both of the shows were highly entertaining, though the best part of the trip was just squeezing in as much family time as we could with Brittany's insanely busy schedule.

The other highlight of the trip was the aforementioned Glacier National Park.  I'd really never heard of this park until moving out to this part of of the country, and I can now say with full authority that it is a true hidden gem of the United States.  The park has an amazing array of vistas, from sparkling lakes to craggy mountains, roaring waterfalls to bubbling brooks.  At one moment you feel like your in a near desert environment and the next you're surrounded by lush ferns and towering evergreens.  There are hikes for every level of fitness, and we had a fantastic time exploring without the mad crush of people that we've experienced at other parks.  There were just enough other tourists there to keep you from feeling completely alone, but you could also sit quietly at the edge of a lake and not see another person go by for ages.

We did have one highly dramatic moment as my dad nearly pitched headfirst into Virginia Falls due to a freak bifocal incident.  Sadly his brand new $3 Lewis and Clark baseball cap and my camera weren't so lucky as to avoid a watery grave, but fortunately aside from some extreme bruising and a rather frightening looking cut under the eye, my dad was okay and looked almost as good as new just a few days later.  And I've been wanting a new camera for a while anyway, so thanks for giving me an excuse to get one daddy!  We spent lots of time just driving along desolate highways and back roads and exploring tiny Montana towns, and all in all it was a wonderful and incredibly relaxing vacation.

After a painfully long day of flying which included five takeoffs and landings and two layovers, I got home late Tuesday night to an empty house since Colby was unexpectedly sent off on a long work trip on Sunday and the pups were dropped off at the vet for boarding.  Last night I went with a crew to see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, and oh my gracious, I laughed, I cried (buckets)!  Of course, the movies never hold a candle to the books, but I think they did a pretty great job capturing the tone of the books and did a decent job of hitting all the highlights.

So, I have the next couple of weeks off from anything pressing aside from school, then we'll be entertaining my in-laws for about a week and the day after they leave jetting off for ten amazing days in Hawaii.  I feel so blessed to be able to spend this summer in such a relaxing way, surrounded by friends and family, traveling and truly getting to enjoy life every day.  Oh summer, please don't ever end!

The Reasons I Drink

So, I have two enormous fears: rejection and heights.  I know they're not terribly original, but there you have it.  This weekend I had to deal with both, with varying degrees of success.

I think I've talked before about how much I enjoy planning parties and hosting them, but hate the part about inviting people because I am always convinced that no one will show up.  In the past couple of years, I've forced myself to get over this and was even brave enough to plan my own birthday party, which falls over the Christmas holidays meaning that generally speaking no one EVER shows up.  I was just starting to get over this fear, when this weekend happened.  A few weeks ago, I went to a jewelry party and had such a good time I decided to host one at my house and invite all of my girlfriends over for a ladies night.  *Cue ominous foreshadowy music*

I've managed to collect a respectable amount of lovely friends and quickly set to work notifying them of the event and sent out invitations early so there would be lots of notice.  I invited nineteen girls.  Of those nineteen invited FIVE SHOWED UP.  Bless them, Becky brought three of her friends and another friend brought her teenage daughter, so it wasn't a ghost town, but still, it was a little mortifying when I'm assuring my jewelry party host that eleven people RSVP'd yes and were probably bringing friends and 30 minutes into the party only three people are sitting around listening to the crickets chirping.

And I swear, I'm not angry at my friends.  I know things happen.  Four girls were out of town, one is pregnant and had a back ache so bad she couldn't walk, one totally forgot (it happens), one's husband was leaving for a deployment the next day and she wanted to be with him for his last night home, one was getting her house prepared for an upcoming open house, one was running a marathon that morning and so on in that same vein.  Point being, everyone who couldn't make it had an excellent reason, it was just... Ugh, I half expected to look down and realize that I'd forgotten to put on pants, it was that nightmarish.

Fortunately, I did manage to have a good time with the ladies who could make it, and I don't regret having the party.  It'll just take me a while to psych myself up for trying it again.  And probably some therapy.  And a drug cocktail of some sort.

Then on Sunday, I gave in to Colby's request to go hiking at Mt. Rainier, mainly because he always so sweetly goes along with everything I want to do without (much) complaint.  What he didn't tell me was that the hike was nearly two miles of VERTICAL paths, many of which overlooked vast drops into space at the bottom of which a rushing river would collect any hapless, trip-happy victims.  And then, to really make it as horrific as possible, portions of the most treacherous passages were covered in slippery, not-fully-solid-all-the-way-through, banks of snow.  SNOW!!  In late JUNE!!  Under the beating sun!

Our end-goal was Comet Falls, but in order to get to the falls I would have had to cross a snow bridge, covering a trail that was, I shit you not, about a foot wide with no margin of error to the left and nothing to hold on to on the right.  Colby asked me if I would consider crossing it if I had a big stick and I laughed in his face.  Then I started crying when I realized I would have to get back down the snowy slope we had just climbed and witnessed four hikers with sturdy walking sticks and sensible hiking shoes nearly plummet to their deaths.

So.  Fun weekend all in all.

The Good Life

School's out for summer!  School's out forever!!

Okay, well, not forever, but until September 2nd anyway, which is good enough for me.  If it was out forever, I'd have to seriously reassess my education and career plans.

Our last day of before and after school care was last Thursday, and it was... strange.  As I was cleaning up the stage where we have our care and watching the kids slowly trickle out the door for the last time this year, I actually felt a little sad.  It's funny, as horribly as they behaved sometimes, as absolutely insane as they drove me, as completely tired as I was of conversations on an elementary school level--I still managed to form an attachment to those kids.  Some of them I even really, really liked, and actively miss.  It was a surprising realization.  Like Stockholm Syndrome for non-captives.

Anyway, I am now a lady of leisure for the next 10 1/2 weeks, and I plan on enjoying the hell out of them while they last.  Is it just me, or is that an unusually short summer?  I feel like in the South our summers were a few weeks longer, but maybe that's just my imagination.  It would also reinforce the stereotype of the dumb Southern hick that I hate so much, so maybe we just shouldn't discuss it any further.

I spent my first three days of freedom in mostly bliss, with a little homework thrown in just as a reminder that life is inherently not fun, and I shouldn't get too caught up in the enjoyment.  On Friday, I caught up on all the sleep that I'd been missing over the past 10 months, then after a little 30 Day Shred action, got myself all gussied up for Rent at the Paramount in Seattle.

Let me tell you, as much as I ADORE Wicked (and you know I do), seeing Rent with the original Mark and Roger MIGHT have been the coolest theater experience I've ever had.  It was so amazing to hear the same voices that I listen to on my soundtrack, and see the people who made those characters into real people for millions of fans.  Not to mention the rest of the cast was absolutely incredible, and yes, I cried my eyes out at the end.  I really wanted to haunt the stage door and wait for Adam and Anthony to come out, but Colby had to wake up to leave for a trip at 3:30 am the next morning, and the show didn't get out until 11 pm, so we headed home for some sleep.

Sunday was a pretty dull day of homework and catching up on BBC costume dramas, but Saturday, I went to support a friend who was taking part in a Crossfit challenge (um, completely insane), and she ended up not competing, but we cheered on a group of competitors nonetheless.  And it was probably a good thing she didn't, because after that experience, I think she would have been dead on her feet and unable to participate in our POLE DANCING CLASS that afternoon! 

Oh yes, indeedy.  I am well on my way to changing my name to Bambi and installing a spinning pole in our loft.  Ostensibly, pole dancing is a good workout, and I can tell you that my arms and back were feeling it yesterday, but let's be honest here, this is really just a fun way to hang out with gal pals and figure out how to feel a little sexy without busting out laughing at myself!  We spent most of our time on Saturday learning the basics on the pole, but did eventually get ourselves in the air and spinning toward the end of class.  Get your dollar bills ready pals, because I am once more rethinking my career goals!

*Tap Tap*

I swear, I have not forgotten about my blog.  In fact, I think of multiple blog ideas per day, and am constantly composing epic posts in my brain while refereeing kickball games at school, gasping through a run, cursing Jillian Michaels, or trying to fall asleep at night.  I just cannot seem to find the time to both live my life and actually write those posts down.

Times like these, I really miss the days when I filled endless hours sitting at a boring job with this darling blogging hobby.  I got paid a lot more then too.  Man, what was I thinking quitting that gig?  Oh, right, that I needed to find something more meaningful to do with my life.  But really, what is so wrong with meaninglessness!  Front desk girls are important in their own coffee providing, package signing, office organizing way!

Anyway, right now my life consists of: work, sleep, school, eating, trying to maintain some semblance of a social life, and from time to time, working out.  In exactly one week, work will be gone from that equation, which should give me an extra 40+ hours per week to dedicate to blogging and other amusements for the summer.

Until then, let it be known, I am buying not one, but two pairs of Crocs today.  Truth.  Commence with the hurling of stones in my general direction.

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

One of my frequent self-deprecating jokes is how I could happily give away all of my worldly goods and go live in a remote cabin, far away from cell phones, social interactions, and civilization as a whole.  This is patently untrue for many reasons, not the least of which being my love for shoes and the distinct lack of places to wear them in the vicinity of said remote cabin.  Please don't misunderstand, I still love me some alone time and will happily spend entire weekends wrapped up in a book or powering my way through a television series that I've become obsessed with.  But over the years, I have come to realize the importance of making and maintaining friendships.

When I read through old blog posts from when I lived in Arkansas, it's easy to see how alone I felt.  I had trouble making real bosom buddies there, because almost all of my free time was spent visiting Colby or spending time with him while he was visiting me.  Towards the last eight or nine months that I lived there (not by coincidence, I think, a time during which Colby and I were broken up) I managed to reach out and connect with a couple of great girls that I still keep in touch with today, but because we were all moving on from our lives there in rapid succession, we never really had the chance to form a deep friendship.

Even so, I missed them when I moved, and knowing how difficult it is for me to come out of my shell and let people in, I wasn't terribly optimistic about my chances of making close friends in Washington. For the first year or so that we lived here, I let my shyness rule and kept mostly to myself, hanging out with Colby and his friends and meeting their wives and girlfriends from time to time, but hesitant to follow through or making any sort of effort to build a relationship.

Because that's the thing I've learned--friendships do take work.  You have to let go of insecurities telling you that you're not funny enough, smart enough, or pretty enough for anyone to really like you.  Much like dating, you have to put yourself out there, realize that you'll connect with some people and not so much with others.  But friends don't just drop from the sky, you have to seek them out and do your part to nurture them until they grow from acquaintance, to buddy, to a really meaningful person in your life.

I have been so lucky here to find an incredible group of women.  When I think of leaving them... ugh, it just breaks my heart.  There's Nicole, who I can always count on to watch a cheesy television show with me or stay up late into the night talking about love and life.  Carolyn, one of the sweetest most genuine people I've ever met, who always has a kind word and shares my love for musical theater and has introduced me to opera.  One Sarah, who always has a witty retort and deep appreciation for blue humor, but has a heart the size of Texas and the ability to cook a dinner or bake a dessert that will have you sneaking thirds and fourths when no one is looking.  And the other Sarah, the one who always has a level head and wise comment, and a deep appreciation for the pleasures and importance of a good meal.  And of course, Lori, who first made me feel welcome here in this furthest corner of the contiguous United States, always making sure that we have a family for the holidays and who can always find the good in every situation.

These are the people who keep me sane while Colby is away, who make me laugh even when I really don't feel like it, and are always up for a wild, Washington adventure.  I'll miss them terribly when they're no longer a short car ride away, but I'll always have a place for them in my heart and my memory.  They are what have made this world, so far from the family and friends I left behind, not only bearable but enjoyable.  I only hope that somehow, someway I manage to find more friends like them down the long and winding road ahead of us.

"For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils."
~William Wordsworth

Little Miracles

Let me tell you.  I have not felt this happy about life since... last summer!  Actually, that's not even true, because last summer is when Colby left for four and a half months, so though I was not in the depths of despair the entire season, I don't think I was as happy as I've been lately.

Thing the First:

I don't think I have a black thumb!  I don't think I have a green thumb either, but I finally decided to throw caution to the wind and attempt this whole gardening thing I keep hearing about.  I was tired of admiring and coveting beautiful front lawns in our neighborhood and then coming back to our ratty little contractor planted garden, so last weekend we hit up the farmers market and Home Depot and came away with a bountiful crop of fleurs.  I want to show you just how beautiful they are before they all shrivel up and die, but alas, my camera is currently lacking any picture taking abilities and Colby is off gallivanting in some far flung corner or the world (also known as the East Coast) with our schmancy camera.  So, I will tell you them.  Thus far, I have managed to not kill the following:

• 3 rhododendrons of varying colors-- light pink, bright pink, and cream with pink "highlights"
• 1 fuschia
• 1 potted red dragon tree in its infancy
• 3 tiny terracotta pots of some such flowers that I got in the $1 bin at Target and am growing from seeds
• 2 toddler lilacs, henceforth known as Lila and Lacy
• 1 herb garden consisting of sweet basil, lemon basil, pesto basil, mint julep, chocolate mint, lemon thyme, and rosemary, and an ivy, which I realize is not an herb, but does look awfully pretty amidst the more edible plants
• 4 African daisies
• 3 Asiatic lilies

Of course, it's only been a week, so feel free to make a pool placing bets on what actually makes it through the season.  I'll work on pictures in the near future, because I don't feel that a flower post is nearly as enjoyable without them.

Thing the Second:

The weather here has been absolutely phenomenal for nearly two weeks now.  I am cautiously optimistic that this summer may prove itself to be one of those "gorgeous summers" I heard so much about before moving here and have yet to experience.  I think Washington is just being coy.  It has heard that we're leaving, so it's doing everything in its power to woo us into staying.  I will not be fooled by your coquettish behavior, Washington!  I know, come September, you'll be up to your old tricks again!  But seriously, look at this forecast:

That right there is a little something I like to refer to as "perfection".

Thing the Third:

Not only do I have less than three weeks of work-school left before I'm taking this job and shoving it for the summer, but next fall I will be going back to work at a school that is 10 minutes from my house as opposed to the ~30 minute drive that I now face.  And that adds up to not 40, but 80 minutes less spent commuting nearly every day as I make the drive four times because of my split shift.  Even better than the cut in commute time, but from what I have heard, the kids are saints compared to the ones I've worked with this year.  Hallelujah and AMEN!

Thing the Fourth:

And finally, I have a bunch of exciting countdowns going on right now.

• 20 days until my last day of work-school
• 1 month and 5 days until my week-long trip to Montana to visit my sister at her summer theater, see my parents, and go to Crater Lake
• 1 month and 16 days until Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
• ~2 months and 8 days until I'm lounging on a beach in Hawaii with my favorite husband

So, that's what has been getting me through my bipolar days recently.  What has you excited about life?

This Weekend I...

... Went to see the new Star Trek movie.  The only previous experience I have with Star Trek is a highly traumatic moment where I happened to walk through the room while my parents were watching the movie, only to see a man writhing on the ground as a horrifying wormy thing crawled out of his ear.  I can't think of Star Trek without that vision flashing before my eyes, so you can see why I might not have been running to the theater on opening night.  And paying extra to see it on IMAX.  Yet, I did.  I can only cite my love for J.J. Abrams and wishful thinking that Zoe Saldana might be reprising her role as the bitchy ballerina, just transplanted into space.  After sitting through the full movie and only falling asleep a couple of times, the verdict is... I'd rather watch Star Wars.

... Got a little more high brow on Saturday morning with a viewing of The Metropolitan Opera's La Cenorentola, streaming live to a local theater.  I know I've been skeptical in the past, but opera is really starting to grow on me.  I don't think I'll ever love it more than the glitter and flash of Broadway, but there's something to be said for the more toned down culture of a well done opera.  La Cenerentola is essentially Rossini's (The Barber of Seville) take on the classic Cinderella story, so it's pretty hard to go wrong there, and the cast was phenomenal.  Now that I've seen two comedies, I think I'm ready for a terribly heartbreaking tragedy--if there's a heavy set woman with braids and a viking hat, I would not be disappointed.

... Experienced a whole new world at a roller derby match pitting four local teams against one another.  I really had no idea what to expect, but I was surprised at how much fun it was to watch those girls fly around the rink, pushing and shoving to get across the point line first.  There are a lot more rules than I expected, and by the time we left I think we had a pretty good handle on how the sport is played.  I was pulling for the Irish themed Femme Fiannas, up there in green, but I was so exhausted from the loooong weekend, that we left before the game was over.

... Made the mistake of checking my blog stats for the first time since I made the move to my new domain.  Sigh.  I've always said I'm blogging for myself and not for the readers, but I confess, it's a little disheartening to lose 2/3 of the readers that I've built up over the past 3 years of blogging.  I have a lot of great commenters, but I also had a lot of lurkers and since they never commented, I have no way of letting them know where I live now.  Stupid URL hijacker... may the wrath of my readers fall upon your shoulders!

And now it's Tuesday.  This week is sort of stretching out endlessly before me and I'm pretty sure I have the swine flu (what, is that joke used up now?) so I think I'm going to go make myself some eggs and toast, watch Gossip Girl, and then take a nice long nap before heading back to work.  Naps make the week fly by exponentially faster.

Sonic, Rock Band and Creepers

It's been a long time since I've written anything here about what is actually going on in my life.  Despite what this post might have you believing, as a whole, April wasn't all that terrible.  I had a few bad days in a row, and as is my tendency, I had a nice dramatic vent on the blog, felt sorry for myself for a little while and then went on about my life.  I just kind of... forgot I had a blog.  Obviously.

I'll have to do a more thorough recap of April, but I am happy to report that the first weekend of May did not disappoint, and if we're lucky, we may just make it through a whole month without one of my epic blog hissy fits.  For you see, though the rain has been out in full force for the past couple of days, I can see the light at the end of this dreary, grey tunnel.  We've had some spectacularly gorgeous days, and as much as I still hate the constant rain, at least it's no longer COLD rain.  And along with the increase in sun shiny days, the other recent arrival in the Western Washington area is a SONIC!!!!  Right across the street from my school!!

If you follow me on Twitter or are a Facebook friend, you already know that I had a countdown going for Sonic's opening day on April 27th, and the minute I got off of work, my friend Sarah and I hopped in the car and sat in an hour and a half line to indulge in grilled cheese, Sonic Blasts, cherry limeades and greasy, delicous tots.  Sonic is easily, hands down my number one favorite fast food restaurant, and I am so glad that we can finally be together again.  Being that one visit over the course of the opening week wasn't enough, I headed back to Sonic on Friday night where I gently eased my friend Nicole into the beauty of the Sonic menu.  She just dipped a toe in the water, but I think she was duly impressed by the tots and cherry limeade.  The lines around lunch and dinner time are still abysmally long, but I'm holding out hope that soon the fervor will subside and I'll be able to acquire my root beer float fix on a regular basis without losing hours of my life.

Saturday was opening day for a local farmers market, so Nicole and my dear operatic friend Carolyn and I all donned our rain gear and headed into the mist to see what we could see.  Oh, and it was good!  I came home with a fabulous and eco-friendly reusable market bag, two containers of sheeps milk cheese, a half pound of fudge, three dip mixes, a Mother's Day gift that shall not be named, and a gorgeous wooden bowl and platter set.  The selection of garden plantings was incredible, and as soon as Colby gets home from his most recent trip, I'll be dragging him downtown so that we can purchase an array of gorgeous bushes and flowers that we can slowly murder over the course of the next few months.  I cannot wait!

That evening, a passel of us headed over to Carolyn's house where I was indoctrinated into the cult of Rock Band, and lo, it was life changing!  I didn't have a chance to strum a guitar but I rocked the microphone and the drums, and it was the best time I've ever had with two sticks and a video game console.  Along with the new plants, I'm going to be lobbying hard for the next addition to our Wii collection to be Rock Band.  I feel that it will be far more difficult to kill.

In slightly sadder news, my old domain is no longer your friendly, online porn directory.  No, the brilliant internet entrepreneur who purchased the domain also seemed to think that the transaction included full access and rights to my archives, and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a slew of my old posts copied and pasted into their website with absolutely zero editing or credit given.  Fortunately, I have been blessed with some seriously web-savvy pals, and they leapt into action with links, email addresses, and form letters to help me take the creepy blog squatter down.  Now, if you go to the site, you'll see a picture from Wicked and a brief synopsis of Broadway theater.  I'm glad that my posts have been returned to their rightful owner (me), but a bit disappointed that my old site is being used for such idiotic, pointless purposes.  At least if someone was using it for good rather than evil... Oh well.

This Weekend I...

(A little housekeeping note:  I played around with my feed in an attempt to figure out why it hasn't been showing up in my reader until hours after I posted, and eventually determined that the best way to follow this site in a reader is by using the following feed: http://feeds2.feedburner.com/wickedlyscarlett/VQbD.  If that's what you're already using, awesome!  If not, maybe you'd like to update it.  That is all.)

... Experienced a combined five to seven hours of sunlight, which brought me to the simultaneously wonderful and horrifying realization that summer is coming, and soon I will no longer to be able to hide the results of holiday binging and late winter comfort eating under multiple layers of clothing.  On Friday night I went for a surprisingly successful run and Saturday I finally removed the shrink wrap from The 30 Day Shred and completed day one of Level 1.  Today, every single muscle in my body is crying out for mercy.

 

... Bought three pairs of Nine West shoes for $19.95 apiece and ordered the Charles David Pomade shoes for the wedding I'll be attending in two weeks.  It was an exciting weekend for my feet.

... Headed up to Seattle with some friends on Saturday where we stumbled upon a fantastic little Asian tea shop, Vital Tea Leaf, near the market.  We were served five or six tiny  cups of tea by an adorable Japanese girl who giggled and complemented and poured tea like a champ.  I added a little Asian flair to my formerly European tea collection with the addition of Jade Oolong and Jasmine teas, as well as a miniature clay tea pot that looks like it should belong to the little bear in the story of Goldilocks.  If it were set in Japan.

... Went to see The Complex: A Play About Apartment Living at the Market Theatre.  We went in expecting a comedy show, and were instead treated to a sort of dramedy based on the experiences of one of the performers as an apartment manager in Capitol Hill.  It was a fascinating look at how people's lives intertwine in ways you wouldn't expect and was at once hilarious and heartbreaking.  And I want Kevin Brady to marry my sister.  You know, if he's straight.  And single.  And reading this.

All in all, it was a great weekend to counteract a less than great week, and now I'm staring down a tunnel with a glorious light at the end only one week away when I fly to Baton Rouge for eight days of fun and relaxation and no contact with anyone under the age of twenty.  Between my masters class, work, and getting ready for this trip have a million frillion things to do this week, but still Saturday cannot come soon enough!

T.G.I.F.

Believe it or not, I have yet another story of anxiety and uncertainty to share with you all.  But today is not the day for dipping into the endless depths of my neuroses, today is the day for rejoicing in the sunshine and that fact that today is FRIDAY!

A confession that is either funny or embarrassing, probably a combination of the two:

Have I ever told you about that time when, early in my relationship with Colby, I was musing at length on how his R.A. could have possibly gotten her car from Alaska to her on campus apartment in Louisiana.  I eventually settled on the fact that she had probably taken a ferry, and was satisfied with my conclusion, when Colby kindly took my hand and explained to me that Alaska was not in fact an island unto itself as seemed to be the impression that I had formed over countless years of geography classes, and just maybe she had driven her car down to Louisiana from Alaska.

Well, last night we were watching an episode of Rick Steves where he was exploring the beautiful country of Greece.  As the television zoomed us in on a map of Europe, to highlight Greece, I made a dive for the remote and hit rewind and play again for another look at the unzoomed in map.  As it turns out, Greece is not, in fact an island, as I have thought for as long as I can remember.  I don't know where I got all of these misconceptions about how countries are connected or not connected to their neighboring countries, but I feel confident that it is somehow my 5th grade teacher's fault.  This is in sharp contrast to Colby, who actually spends his free time looking up random locations on Google Earth.

Things that are kind of adorable:

One of my little angel-faced 1st graders, who is obsessed with High School Musical, Indiana Jones, and efforts to combine those two interests, has taken to calling himself Hoops Man, and everytime I call him by his real name, he gives me a reproving glance and an enormous sigh.  I can't decide if his reaction to my faux pas is more precious than the nickname and his near idol worship of Zac Ephron, so I just sort of alternate between calling him Hoops Man and his real name.

Things that I am excited about:

1) The sun is shining, and it is downright WARM for Washington in March, at a pleasant 50 degrees.

2) The kids are generally easier to handle on a Friday afternoon, and oftentimes, downright enjoyable and entertaining.

3) I get to get dressed up for two separate events this weekend--a casino night birthday party for one of my friends tonight, and Colby's birthday dinner tomorrow night at the schmancy, well reviewed Seattle restaurant, Chez Shea.

4) I am leaving for Baton Rouge in exactly two weeks and one day, and I just found out that there is a very high degree of possibility that not only will I be seeing my family and friends while there, but my little sister will be making the seven hour drive down from her school in Missouri for the weekend!!  I haven't seen her since my wedding in November of 2007, and seeing as she is one of my top favorite people in the whole world, I am absolutely ecstatic that I might be seeing her very soon!

I hope that you are all going to be enjoying a fantabulous weekend, and if you have any good news of your own that you would like to share, I'm sure it would go a long way toward sustaining my suspiciously out of character and out of season good mood!

Much Needed Perspective

I was still feeling like a grumpy puss throughout Friday, and despite the copious amounts of wine I drank on Friday night when we went out to dinner with friends, I was still in a dour mood when Saturday rolled around.  I was stewing about all of the injustices inflicted upon me by the world--you know, no trip abroad, a husband who clearly doesn't give a hoot about me, the cold, dreary weather.  We decided to head up to Seattle to see Lucy at the Pacific Science Center, before she left Seattle for the next leg of her American tour, and then go out to dinner with friends.

On the way to the city, I pulled out a piece of gum, casually tossed the wrapper into the console of Colby's car, and became infuriated when he snapped at me to please not just throw my garbage in his car.  I mean, sure, I was the one who threw the garbage, but who was HE to talk to ME that way?  Never mind the fact that I had probably rolled my eyes at least four times at him throughout the course of the day and made a few not so nicely phrased comments myself.  We finished the rest of the long, construction extended drive in silence, each glowering out our respective portions of windshield.

We got the the science center, and slowly began to thaw as first we were forced to talk to each other to figure out how to get to the museum from our parking garage and eventually ended up engaged in a friendly game of mancala.  The rest of our stay was relaxed, and we finally got our chance to enter the small, dark room that housed the bones of Lucy and an artists rendition of what she may have looked like.

I stood over the glass case, staring down at the brittle, ivory colored remains of a creature that lived millions of years ago.  A mammal somewhere between an animal and a human, a 3 foot 6 inch skeleton of a female who was on the cusp of an entirely new species.  A creature who had lived her life, died under unknown circumstances, and was now on display for her ancestors 3.2 million years down the road.  Something about that moment gave me a catch in the back of my throat.

Our lives are truly so insignificant.  In the grand scheme of things, who are we really but self-important beings that lucked out by being at the top of the food chain, here for maybe 80 years if we're lucky and then gone.  In the blink of the eye as far as the earth is concerned.  It's easy to think that our small worries and sadnesses, celebrations and happy moments, grudges and angers can change the course of the universe, but in reality, life goes on every day, whether we're happy or sad, angry or joyful, and it is our choice in each moment of our lives to choose our attitude.  To choose our paths.

In 3.2 million years the world will never know or care if you were a millionaire or a pauper, if you had a happy life or a sad life, if you were alone or surrounded by people you love.  If we are anything to them we will be bones, fossils, relics of an ancient time, a mere stepping stone in the timeline of the past.

After spending time with Lucy, Colby and I went out for drinks while waiting for our friends to arrive in the city.  I downed a rasbperry lemon drop and then told Colby that lately I'd been feeling he hadn't really been registering many of my hopes and desires if they didn't affect him directly, or if he didn't feel that they deserved the same amount of importance I did.  I told him that I was still hurt that he had forgotten the talent show, that it came as a surprise to him every time I mentioned a trip this summer, or a vacation in France next year.  It all came rushing out, some of the things I had been feeling, I didn't even realize until that moment.  We sat together, quietly sharing a plate of garlic fries, both thinking about the things that I had said.

Yesterday, I woke up in an empty bed.  I came downstairs, bleary eyed and still a little tired, to find a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts waiting for me on the counter.  I took a glazed with chocolate frosting and sat down next to Colby on the couch.  "July 14-August 22," he said, as I took my first bite.  "I put my name in the leave books for the whole time since I wasn't sure when you'd want to go.  I can always give some of it back."  We started looking at airfare later that morning.

Life is what you make of it.  In 3.2 million years, not a single person will care that I spent two weeks in the Northeast in the summer of 2009, but while we spent those few minutes together remarking on the fact that the fares were cheaper than we expected, to me, it felt like the most important moment in the world.

Hope

Just about everyone, myself included, likes to blog about the good things in life, particularly when they're in a happy, loving marriage or committed relationship.  I like to get all mushy, and sometimes banging out some sappy, heartfelt blog post is just a really fun way to spend a Friday morning.  But the thing of it is, sometimes being married can be kind of hard.  I know!!  Big shocker!

I'm not even talking about in the big ways that you always hear about in those stories about why the divorce rate is so high.  Like, obviously money issues can cause problems.  You want five kids, he was thinking more like one kid and some new golf clubs.  That stuff can certainly have an impact on a relationship, but I'm talking about the little things.

Like, you want to set the thermostat at 72 because you both make a decent wage and can probably afford to pay the gas bill, but he wants to keep it at 68 because he's kind of miserly and wears a lot of fleece.  So, you compromise and set it at 70, but no one is ever really happy about a compromise, so you both make disparaging comments about the other's temperature preference from time to time.  Or maybe you like the feel of crisply, tightly tucked sheets when you climb into bed at night, and he's more of a "tornado just hit the house, leaving the bed intact but rumpled" kind of a guy.  So you keep your side tucked in and he kicks the sheets out on his side, which SEEMS like it should work, but in reality, every morning the entire bed looks suspiciously more like the tornado situation, and it is POSSIBLE that one time you actually cried, because seriously, is having the sheets tucked in really THAT HORRIBLE??

And then of course, maybe I--I mean, YOU--want to get a third dog, so you kind of joke about it all the time, but in a way that makes it pretty clear that you're not actually joking, and then he's like "the yard is too small, and you aren't the one that picks up the poop, anyway."  Then, completely by accident you stumble across an adoption listing featuring this adorable, Fraggle-like face:

So, you kind of once more jokingly bring up that whole crazy third dog idea, and you're once more kind of jokingly shot down.  And then you get seriously sad, and you think guiltily to yourself that if you weren't married and didn't have to make joint decisions, you'd just get the damn dog.  And then you realize that you're a horrible person, and obviously being married and having someone else to pick up the poop of the two dogs you're already lucky enough to have and to share your life with is about a million percent better than getting a third dog.  But you still obsess about the dang Fraggle dog and pray that someone else out there will adopt her and give her the love she deserves, and then you just hope that the dreams about Hope go away some time soon.

Because really, what kind of moron has multiple dreams about a dog she's never met anyway?  Not me, that's for sure...

Confessions Pt 2

Welcome to another round of brutally honest, potentially inappropriate thoughts that been circulating in my head recently.  No topic is safe from the wanderings of my little feather brain.

* Our Christmas tree is still up.  Oh yes, it is.  And I have no plans to take it down any time soon.  Not because I am feeling particularly festive, but because I am lazy.  And we have a lot of ornaments on that damn tree.

* I am horrified at the state of parenting and children's behavior in general these days.  I know that makes me a bitter sixty-five-year-old man, but I don't care.  My generation was far from perfect, and I was a bit sheltered as a child, but I honestly don't think that as a whole we were nearly as dreadful as children AS A WHOLE these days.

* I find Ryan Seacrest mysteriously hot this season.  He seems somehow more mature and dignified.  We'll see how long that lasts before the frosted tips and shiny shirts make their come back.

* On a somewhat related note, I haven't been as excited about an American Idol contestant as I am about Alexis Grace in a very long time.  Maybe ever.  This is interesting since I wasn't even planning to watch American Idol this season.  If she makes it to the finals, there is a 57% chance that I might make an actual effort and text in a vote.

* I can't remember the last time I thoroughly cleaned our bathroom.  There is a layer of hairspray and makeup about an inch thick on the counters, and my sink looks like a Jackson Pollack painting.

* Even though know that I drastically cut the number of blogs I read a few months ago and am no longer a terribly consistent commenter, sometimes I get a little sad that I don't get the same number of comments I used to get.  Then I remember that there are far greater problems in the world (see: state of bathroom above), and I get over it.  Until I get a little sad again.

* This has absolutely zero bearing on the amount of my love for Colby, but I would really love to get some fabulous sparkly jewelry from him on romantic holidays.

* I am seriously, hopelessly addicted to Facebook and at a slightly lesser level, Twitter.  As such, I am giving up both for Lent.  Jesus is probably rolling his eyes, like, "I fasted in the desert for 40 days and this twit is worried about her ability to stay away from social networking sites for 46?" but in a nicer way, of course, because he is Jesus.  I have had multiple friends contact me, worried that they will never hear from me again, but have no fear, I will still be blogging and emailing.  But still probably not ever answering my phone.

How I Spent My President's Day Vacation!

Friday and Monday were both no school days for my school district, but of course, being that we are a day care provider, I did have work on Friday because it's not technically part of the federal holiday.  It really wasn't a bad day of work though--I got in at 9:30 and was gone by 4:45, so it was a perfectly lovely schedule, and my few bad apples weren't there, so I actually had a lot of fun.

We kicked off our vacation weekend by trying out a new Mexican restaurant, Playa Azul.  We already have a favorite tiny little Mexican restaurant in the town a little to the south of us, but I'm thrilled to have another tasty option closer to home.  The prices were a smidge higher than our favorite hole in the wall, but I think we'll definitely be making a return visit.  After an amazingly fattening dinner, we headed off to the movie theater where Colby was kind enough to sit through Confessions of a Shopaholic with me. 

Now, this movie is more controversial than I thought it would be.  People who love the books seem to not be too impressed with the movie and people who hate the books hate the movie equally.  I don't know, maybe I'm just not that deep, but I loved it.  Sure, it deviates from the books (that, admittedly, I also love) but I actually felt that Isla Fischer's Becky Bloomwood was more likeable than the book version and Luke Brandon was dreamy.  My only two wishes were that they had kept the setting in London and cast a better actress for Becky's sidekick, Suze.  But alas, Luke retained his Britishness, and Suze made minimal appearances, so I couldn't get too upset.  The movie will definitely be added to my DVD library, and I'm sure it will enter the rotation of chick flicks to watch when Colby is deployed.

Saturday, I woke up to the smell of French toast wafting its way up the stairs, and when I woke up from an after breakfast nap there were a dozen beautiful roses and a heartfelt card, referencing one of our favorite couple jokes--the piguin.  I remained pretty firmly rooted to the couch most of the day, while Colby did some homework, and then I finally got myself all gussied up for our romantical Valentine's dinner at another favorite, nearby restaurant, DeCaterina's.  I made the near fatal mistake of wearing a fabulous corset top to dinner, not thinking about the fact that I was probably going to want to cram a lot of food into my stomach and that may be difficult when dealing with steel girders up my side.  Anyway, I pushed through the pain and managed to eat an amazing dinner and dessert.

Sunday, I had my turn to work on homework and that night we had some other couples over for a supremely enjoyable game night.  We had tons of food, wine, beer, and round after round of Cranium, which I am heartbroken to admit the girls lost two out of three times.  We still managed to have a great time, despite the losses, and Monday I spent on the couch once more, recovering from a hangover caused by red wine and defeat.  Now, it's back to real life as I'm working my way through a mountainous pile of dirty laundry and preparing to head back to work for my afternoon shift.  But the good news is that it's a short week and I've got tons of tasty leftovers to eat my way through. 

Yesterday, I also booked a flight back to Baton Rouge for March 28-April 5, so I've got another exciting vacation to start counting down to, and I can't wait to spend some relaxing time at home with my parents.  I haven't had a trip home just to hang out and visit since the March before I moved to Washington in 2007, so I am way overdue for a vist, and I can't wait to see all of the changes to Baton Rouge that I've been hearing so much about.

Finally, I want to thank you all for your comments on my last post.  I was amazed at how good it felt to get all of that out, and I was overwhelmed by the wisdom and kindess you shared with me.  Y'all seriously are the best, and we should totally eat ice cream and cupcakes together some time.

The Green Eyed Monster

I'm sure by now, pretty much everyone who has turned on the television, listened to the radio, surfed the internet, or read a newspaper has heard about the pre-Grammy's activities in which singers Chris Brown and Rihanna were involved.  For those not in the know, the two have been dating for quite some time, and on the eve of the Grammy's, the two apparently got into some sort of altercation that ended with Brown allegedly beating Rihanna pretty seriously, but neither has released an official statement, so the details are all hazy at this point.

What has piqued my curiosity about this story, more that most celebrity gossip stories, is that the reason witnesses and friends have given for the violent outburst from Brown was that Rihanna was angry with him for flirting at the party they'd attended together and the fight snowballed from there, ending with her in the hospital and Brown turning himself in on domestic violence charges.  Jealousy.  Even celebrities aren't immune.  And jealousy and I have a long and complicated past with one another--one that I'm still working through to this day. 

When I was a freshman in college, I got involved in my first "serious" relationship--if you've been around the blog long enough, you may remember me mentioning Evil Ex and if you know me in real life, you couldn't possibly mistake to whom I am referring.  I trusted him completely, mostly because I was too dumb/naive to do otherwise.  He pushed the relationship along at warp speed, dropping the "L" bomb about a month into the relationship, and I was completely swept off my feet.  However, after a couple of months, things started changing.  If I had plans with friends he wanted to know who they were, where I was going, when I would be back.  Once he'd met all of my friends, he was contantly criticizing them, and he would always manage to find a way to convince me to blow them off and stay at home with him.

When we went out he would harp on my makeup or the clothes I was wearing, and if I so much as spoke to another guy, even if it was a mutual friend of ours, he'd become angry and moody.  At the time, I thought this was normal, that this is just how relationships were.  You started dating someone and they became your life.  I remember that I brought a male study partner who was an old high school friend to Ex's apartment once, as we were all but living together officially at the time, and when he came home and found us reviewing biology terms together, he was furious.  He was icily rude to my study partner and as soon as we were alone, he exploded, yelling and telling me that I had disrespected him and so on and so forth.  I will say, he never laid a hand on me, but he knew the exact words to use to cut me to the quick.  And of course, if you know me, you know that I'm not the meekest, mildest girl in the world, so I would give back as good as I got.

After about a year together I had virtually no friends left, all of my days and nights were spent either at school or with Ex, and my self-image was completely destroyed.  I probably weighed 110-115 pounds at the time, but he had pointed out my saddlebags, buddha belly, and flat chest enough that I saw myself as a hideous cow.  I had completely stopped trying, wearing no makeup, doing nothing with my hair, and dressed in jeans and t-shirts every day.  Even though we did nothing but engage in epic arguments, he had somehow managed to make me feel completely dependent on him and that he was the only person in the world who really wanted me in his life, and I had convinced myself that that was love.  All because of his jealousies and insecurites.

Another thing that had changed about me was my own personal jealousies.  I had never been jealous of any boyfriend in the past, but he taught me to be mistrustful, and when he began spending more and more time with a female friend of ours, my radar went crazy.  Only thing is, my radar was right on target and shortly after it was over between us. 

It was like an atom bomb had been dropped on my life.  God bless my friends, because they were all still there waiting for me and I credit some of them, together with my family, for quite literally saving my life.  The aftermath was that bad.  But still, I had zero self esteem and I didn't know what lesson to take away from what had happened.  Another person's jealousies and insecurities had almost completely destroyed me, but then all of my own jealousies were entirely founded.

Then, years later, it happened again with Colby.  I met one of his female friends at one of his military training programs, and immediately, those exact same alarm bells went off in my head.  Colby told me I was being completely ridiculous, but sure enough, when the February rolled around that he decided to break things off with me, he immediately turned to her and they dated briefly.  I'd been telling him for years that she was after him, and he'd almost convinced me that I was crazy, but then once again, my jealousies were validated

Now, I should say that Colby did eventually see the error of his ways, and I was able to forgive his temporary lapse in judgment, and from the moment that we mended fences and got back together, I have not felt a single smidgen of jealousy, so that's all kinds of awesome. And I also should put in a disclaimer here saying that Ex seems very happy now with the woman he began dating and then married after we broke up, and it is distinctly possible that he treats her like a queen and I just brought out the worst in him, so you know, everything has a way of working out in the end.  I suppose.

But I'd like to put it to you, since my life experiences have done nothing but confuse the issue.  What is your opinion?  Is jealousy always completely unacceptable and a tendency toward it a major character flaw, or is it just your intuition's way of telling you something is really wrong and attention should be paid?  Or does it really just depend on the situation and the people involved?

Six

Every now and then, when more than a week has gone by without updating the blog, I get to thinking that maybe it's just too much of a hassle and I should just go ahead and ditch it like every journa or diaryl I have ever written.  But then I forget a rather important, pressing detail of my life, like, just for example of course, how long exactly Colby and I have been together.  You know, it seems like it might be six years, but that couldn't possibly be right because I'm just not that old, right?  But then I can do a little research and find a post from three years ago about how we've been together for three years, and well, you know, the sanity and peaceful sleep that comes with the ability to retrace my steps like that--you just can't buy that peace of mind at Target!

So, I carry on blogging.

Six years.  That means that we've been together for more than 20% of my life--ever since I was just a wee pup of 19 years old.  I'm three years older than he was when he started dating, and holy hell, I thought he was just about the most grown up, mature, OLDEST dude ever.  Even my little sister is older than that now.

We talk a lot about the future.  It makes me laugh sometimes to remember how difficult it was to get him to open up about "where do you see us in five years?" when we were dating and I was desperate for a commitment, or even the hint of one.  Now we toss around the idea of having babies and moving to far off locales and where we want to retire like we're discussing what movie we want to go see.  It feels so natural and completely organic that we'll have all of these experiences together.

Life is a little overwhelming right now.  We're both a little stressed at work and in our respective graduate programs.  The economy is taking it's toll in the form of a continuously diving house value and we are dealing with the uncertainty of having no clue where in the world we will live at this time next year.  I haven't had the time or energy to reconnect with many of my friends lately, and I feel a little bit of the lonely winter sadness creeping around my heart.

Colby asked me the other day if I had changed my mind about ever wanting to have kids.  The full weight of just how incredibly difficult it is to deal with children hits me every single day.  And every night I come home from taking care of and disciplining other people's kids and thank the good Lord above that I can just veg out on the sofa and watch tv without having to worry about taking care of anyone else.  I can just sit, snug in the crook of my husband's arm and feel perfectly content.

I don't know when I'll know that I want to have kids.  Right now, building a family seems rather like the prospect of college did when I was in grade school.  Something that I knew that I was going to to do, but no concrete ideas of exactly when or how I would get there.  I want to be a better person before I have kids.  I want to do the laundry on a regular basis, keep the house clean, and be the wife that gets dinner on the table every night, and doesn't have to be scolded to eat her vegetables.  I want to finish school and actually use my degree for a little while and then take a break so that I can stay home.  I've seen a lot in my short time working at daycare facilities, and as great a program as I think we have, the working mom and dad lifestyle is not what I want for my children.

But I'm just not ready to give up my life for them yet.  I remember sitting in the parking lot of Colby's apartment when he lived in Georgia, about four years ago.  We were in my car, saying our goodbyes when he suddenly stopped talking and gazed steadily into my eyes.

"Our children will have beautiful eyes."

What I didn't know at the time was that we still had years of tumult and distance ahead of us.  What I did know was that he was right and that some day those theoretical children would become a reality.  And even now, six years after he shyly asked me to be his Valentine, as he was dropping me off after our first date, and four years after that out of character moment in the parking lot, I know that some day he will be right.  And when that time comes, whether I'm serving up four course meals or just barely managing to pour cereal and milk into a bowl, I know that our children will have the most beautiful eyes in the world.

Hodge Podge of Stuff Circulating in My Brain

* Guess who's sick again?  This girl!  There's been some kind of ick circulating at school and this week alone five kids have come in running a low grade fever, sniffling, and hacking up lung bits.  I managed to hold out through yesterday before my immune system threw up it's hands in defeat and caved to the germs.  Fortunately it's not nearly as bad as the various colds I had earlier in the winter, and the predominant symptom seems to be extreme crankiness.

* Come to think of it, that symptom may not actually have anything to do with the cold...

* The oppressive fog that blanketed the Puget Sound last week finally lifted, I've seen the sun for at least a few seconds every day this week, and it's no longer pitch black outside at 4:30 pm.  I feel like maybe I can see the light at the end of this dreary winter tunnel.

* My current class is English Language Teaching Foundations, and I am completely and utterly lost this week.  It seems as though the further I get in this Masters program, the more it is expected that you have some teaching experience under your belt and understand basic teaching terminology and rules.  I have neither, so I feel like I'm working twice as hard as everyone else just trying to understand what exactly the assignments are asking for, never mind complete them.  If anyone out there could help me decode this statement, "compare and contrast either the ELL Proficiency Standards or the Language Arts Standards with the standards from an academic area, i.e. science, social studies, or math", I would be forever indebted to you!

* I'm so boring lately, oh my God.  All of these updates are about my health, the weather, and school.  I honestly thought I might have something more interesting to say if I just started typing.  Turns out: No.

* Well, there is something kind of funny-slash-interesting that has developed on the Book of Faces recently, but since I link here from there I don't feel totes comfortable sharing on the blawg.  Am considering doing an email post if I can't figure out how to do a private post, so shall keep you, my adoring and adorable readers, apprised of the situation.

* Oh, I know!  How amazing is Lost so far this season?  To all of you people who gave up on the show in the admittedly lame second and third seasons, wow, sucks to be you!  I freaking love time travel stories, and I am SO thrilled that now we're starting to get more answers and having all of these overlapping time lines thrown at us.  It almost makes up for the fact that Doctor Who won't be back for its 5th season until 2010!

* Exciting plans for the weekend include: Sleeping, homework, season 3 of Arrested Development, and if I am not feeling like total crapola on Sunday, a Super Bowl party.  I couldn't give less of a crap about the game, but it'll be fun hanging out with friends.  And eating their food.  What can I say?  It has been a REALLY long time since I went grocery shopping.