And then my dear husband said to me:
We're off to Minneapolis for the holidays. Essentials for the car trip include:
So I just typed the title and am having a really hard time accepting the fact that "busy" is spelled correctly. It just looks so wrong. Anyone else ever have issues like this with words? The first time I recall feeling this way was with the word "tree". It was several years ago, but I recall being so unnerved by the spelling and pronunciation of the word. It's so bizarre how our brains work.
So my horrendously long absence from the blogging world may have resulted in no longer having visitors to my blog. However, in the hopes that one of you checks this every now and again (perhaps because you are eternally hopeful and think my rudeness of not posting was not due to rudeness at all but rather a terrible mishap that caused all my fingers to temporarily seize up for two plus months), I am posting again. Hopefully, I can jump back on the horse and get back to my previous fairly decent job of regular posts.
My left ankle is now proof that burns suck! I got a rope burn on my ankle yesterday when Caper went frickin' crazy yesterday in the backyard (a friend said I could blame his behavior on the full moon...I wish). He wears a really long leash (30 some feet) when in the backyard in an effort to not attack anything that dares move along the front sidewalk. With the leash he is contained and not able to get around the side of the house and see the nasty people who dare pass his house.
Anyhow, the leash wrapped around my ankle and that hurt slightly. But now, it just burns. And I mean burns. I woke up multiple times in the night because of it. I'm amazed how the removal of the slightest layer of skin can hurt an exponential amount more than a gash from falling down.
***********
After the most recent flood in our basement, our boxes of CD's got a bit damaged. Nothing too horrible, but I had to throw the box away that was holding them. I then got inspired to finish putting all of our music onto iTunes. When we first became users of iPods and iTunes, Drew took charge of getting the music onto the computer. He basically put everything on that we were currently listening too. Turns out we still had a bunch of music that never got on. I'm pleased some of them are finally getting on (i.e. my Ani Difranco collection) and also reminded of why Drew may have omitted them the first time around (i.e. the Titanic Soundtrack ). In case anyone is curious about importing a bunch of music in a short time frame, it sucks. Very tedious. It also leads one to browse the internet for hours on end, while waiting for each CD to import.
And I had such a good month in August!
Argh. I've got nothing to say.
No stories, no anecdotes, no mishaps involving flooding or Caper.
It's a bummer because I think this mean that nothing is going on with me right now, which is basically how it feels.
Hopefully something fun will happen for me to blog about or I will get inspired to write an entry that is about something instead of this one that is about nothing.
Until then...
Did you know Santa Fe is 7,000 feet above sea level?
I can't imagine what it must have been
Simon wanted to stay and live in Bandelier National Park.
On our way to to shop for some art.
We had some great opportunities to test out our newishSo after the Bears game last night we started walking back to our car, parked some two miles away. We decided to walk along the lake, after all, it was a perfect night with a slight breeze, a clear sky with the moon reflecting upon the water.
As we started our trek, we walked past a bicycle taxi. You know, those things that remind you of rickshaws, except instead of someone pulling you as they run, they bike. On a whim, Drew and I decided to hop in. Despite being ridiculously overcharged, the ride was absolutely lovely and was a beautiful way to see the city at night. We not only saved our shoe soles, but we also were able to cuddle up together and enjoy a beautiful evening and pretend that we didn't have a care in the world.
So our labor day weekend will be spent in Santa Fe. I've never been there nor do I know much about it. From what I've heard there is a lot of art and good food.
Any of you been there and have suggestions as to what should be seen or done?
So I was reading this in the NYT today. You know, a list of things that you want to accomplish before you die or reach a certain age? I don't have one but it seems like it could be a good idea if only because it may clarify what my true goals in life are. However, knowing that it is all the rage to make one makes it less appealing. But I've never been one to buck social trends so who knows, perhaps I will compile one.
Do any of you readers have life lists?
It was a dark and stormy night. Seriously. Dark. And. Stormy. I had spent a half hour earlier in the day in the basement due to the imminent threat of tornadoes. But that had passed and I was hanging out on the couch perusing the Internet while debating whether I should have leftover lasagna for dinner even though I had also had leftover lasagna for lunch. Drew was out acting as NFL commissioner for his fantasy league.
Ding, ding, ding.
That's the alarm system telling me that one of the three doors in the house has opened. I can see two of the doors from where I'm sitting and neither of those are opened. That means it is the third door in the basement. Great, someone is coming in to rob or kill me. So, now I'm freaking out and my first instinct is to shut off the lights. Like that would make them think I was not at home anymore. I then go push the little door lock on the door knob because that will keep an intruder out as long as they aren't traveling with a bobby pin or have the strength to push open a basically hollow door. I start to pace.
The silence from the basement is causing me to panic. One would think the lack of sounds would be comforting but it's not. Wow, I think, I really wish I had a baseball bat right about now. Instead I grab the largest knife out of my knife block and head to the basement door, Caper in tow. I swing the door open and brandish my 7-inch knife, ready to scare the bejesus out of whoever is there.
No one attacks me. In fact, no one is on the stairs. I switch on the light and descend down.
Holy S***.
The basement is frickin' flooded. Again. There is water everywhere. EVERYWHERE.
And then I freak out. And by freak out I mean sobbing and practically hyperventilating while trying to slosh my way through all the water in an attempt to get things off the ground.
Oh, the joys of home ownership.
So it was a long busy weekend with lots of guests and many outings and things going on. So I'm tired. My brain is not functioning very well, despite the almost nine hours of sleep last night. So a brief run down of the last week:
1) Drew finished with the interns. Yay! We celebrated the end by seeing a funny show at the etc stage of Second City.
2) For one brief night we were literally "with the band." And that was awesome. First time on a tour bus as well. Not sure I would last long with such small beds and six other guys always around. Nonetheless, it was fantastic to see Jon and how much of a success his band is.
3) Ate waaaaay too much food at Buca's at a birthday celebration for Roger. But yummy yummy. Actually the buttery green beans were my favorite. That's healthy, right??
4) Saw Superbad. It was good and it was funny but I can only handle so many penis jokes in a 90 minute period. Overall, Knocked Up was much better.
Despite all the busyness I still managed to finish the Sunday New York Times actually on Sunday. If nothing else, I did accomplish that.
So I am just going to put this out there for the all the world to read with the thought that having other people know what I'm trying to do will keep me honest and dedicated.
So, I'm trying to be good and exercise. Like regularly. I would really like to lose the weight that I have put on in the past two years or so. It's been hard to do this while at home during the day because food is just so accessible and I like nothing more than a tasty snack.
So, while I have been doing pilates twice a week for a year, I really need to mix it up with some cardio. So here is my plan that I am one week in to. Elliptical 5-6 times a week for 25ish minutes, working up in time eventually. This time is really nice now because it is basically the length of one episode of a sitcom. Last week I breezed through How I Met Your Mother, which was surprisingly funny and entertaining.
Also, I bought I pedometer and am going to try and walk 10,000 steps a day. Why 10,000? Well, because that is the number that deems me to be living an "active" lifestyle, according to some website out there. Plus, I figure that pushes me to take Caper on a good long walk every day, so we both benefit.
So, that's it folks. It hasn't been too painful so far. My hamstrings are a little tight but otherwise all systems are a go.
Back in college, in the dorm rooms, they had these small mirrors in which you could easily see how stressed you were by counting the number of zits on your face but good luck seeing how your new back tat looks. So I along with every other college freshmen (or at least all the girls) made our first annual trip to target and bought the $9.99 long mirror and then used a lot of duck tape in an effort to get it to stick to the wall. This type of mirror served me well throughout college, reassuring me that pajama pants looked fine when running out the door for a 8:30am German T.A. session and finally convincing me that tennis shoes look fine with jeans (I had some severe issues over this for a while).
So in preparation for getting married, there was the discussion as to where I should get ready the morning of the wedding. My parent's house was the obvious first choice, however they didn't have a full length mirror. And there was no way I was going to get dressed in a gorgeous gown and not be able to see what I looked like. So, my dad ended up buying and installing two full length mirrors and all was well.
Once we moved to Chicago into our own condo, I was so excited because our bedroom had a large closet that had mirrors on both sections of the sliding doors. This along with the exposed brick in the hallway was one of my favorite features. It was perhaps a bit sad when it turned out that the majority of my wardrobe while living there would be either hideous white scrub pants (never a good idea, never) and a startling green polo shirt or a pair of blue scrubs. There is really not much you can do with those outfits to liven them up.
When we moved into our house last year, I was so excited for all of its wonderful features, that the lack of full length mirror never occurred to me. However, it has now been over a year since I've seen my feet in a mirror. OK, I won't lie. When I really want to see how my shoes look with my outfit, say for example when I'm going out for our anniversary or attending some crazy work function with Drew, I will stand on my bed so I can see how my shoes and skirt or dress look together in the mirror over my dresser. I can then combine that image with the image of how my top half looks and make a relatively good guess as to how it all works together. However, standing on a mattress in two-inch heels is rarely a good idea.
Which is why I'm so excited that yesterday this arrived in the mail:
Thanks Pottery Barn! You've made all my dreams come true.
My third fantasy follows very closely along the theme of the first two. Open spaces, away from the masses and the stress, peace. Apparently, I'm feeling a bit cooped up without even realizing it.
I think it would be an interesting and fulfilling experience to spend a season on a farm. Not some big farm that encompasses tens of thousands of acres, rather more of a "mom and pop" farm, with a variety of animals and a couple hundred acres of corn, soybeans, alfalfa, etc. I'm not really sure what alfalfa is but I'm pretty sure the Midwest grows a lot of it.
Despite my deep dislike of getting up early, I would like to have the experience of rising before dawn and doing chores such as feeding the cows and pigs, collecting eggs, grooming the horses. I know you all probably think I'm insane right now, but I think briefly working with animals would be very interesting. How I would manage the insects and mice that most assuredly live on farms is unknown, but I'd find a way.
Maybe this farm would be a part of a Co-op and I would finally learn what exactly that means. Plus, I could actually learn the uses for all the various farm equipment that costs almost as much as our condo.
Picking sweet corn and then biting into it a mere 15 minutes later sounds simply divine. Follow that up by a salad from the grand and diverse vegetable garden. Mmmm. I wonder if working with animals would make me turn vegetarian??
An essential part of this fantasy is the presence of a horse that I could ride. I have a strange fondness for horses and riding. I didn't do it much growing up, but I did go to Circle R Ranch with my Girl Scout troop once. Two things stand out in my memory of that trip. 1) A fellow girl scout fell out of the top bunk bed, while sleeping. No one really understood how that happened. She wasn't hurt. 2) My horse's name was Buck. Seriously. How is that a good name for a horse that you are going to give to a 11-year old to ride? I never got bucked off, but while waiting to cross over the highway, Buck did decide that he had waited enough and decided to cross the road without his friends and while he did this the saddle carrying me slowly fell towards the ground. That was a bit scary.
I do have fond memories of horses. One was in Hawaii where I went riding on the beach. It was my sole goal for our entire trip and it was fantastic. Also, Drew and I went in Arizona two Thanksgivings ago. The trail guide led us to this old road and said we could let our horses go (the rest of the trip the horses had been walking with a little bit of trotting). I was bit worried at first because trotting is a literal pain in the ass. But get a horse up to a gallop or a cantor (I don't know the difference) and it is completely different experience, similar to shifting into fifth gear. Smooth, powerful, a bit out of control but absolutely thrilling.
So, in other words, I would like to have a horse to ride in the afternoons. In my head I picture something similar to a stretch of land that runs alongside highway 35 going down to Northfield. There is a little creek that twists and turns and several large trees along side of it. There is a large open field off to the side and there are dips and valleys to a small degree, which I imagine in the springtime are filled with wildflowers. Perhaps I would suddenly keep a journal in this fantasy and I would write down my thoughts by the creek as I took a break from riding.
In the evenings I imagine there might be bonfires and smores or perhaps some bocce ball and a walk down the gravel road at sunset. I think I would also like to have a swing that hangs from the large tree in the back. I could swing for hours.
Spending my days with these various activities for a few months sounds like a great escape as well as something I will never get the chance to do. But it is fun to dream. Thanks Bladio for giving me a reason. Umo and Watie, what are your fantasies?
Our weekend was primarily spent at Lollapalooza, the huge music festival now being held annually in Chicago's Grant Park. It's a three day thing, with music starting at 11 in the morning and going until 10 or so at night. Drew, being a major music guy, has been talking about going to it for the last two years, so this year I finally got the hint and gave him the tickets as a present.
I didn't know most of the bands, but the ones I heard were pretty good. Plus, one of my favorite groups, Snow Patrol, played and seriously rocked.
Overall, I had a good time although I found that I did not fit in well with the rest of the crowd goers, except for the fact that I was white (it was a bit depressing how non-diverse the crowd was). But I may have been the only one not drinking liquor. I declined smoking a variety of substances. Also, I did not have at least three visible tattoos. My male companion was not displaying his brand of boxer briefs because his shorts actually fit him. We both had shoes on and relatively clean feet. I had on sunscreen.
Needless to say, I was completely entertained with people watching. Among the thousands of people roaming the grounds, we saw a bunch of clever t-shirts that made us laugh and I kept track of them so I could share them with you.
In no particular order:
* Pickles are cucumbers soaked up in evil
* World's Best Lover
* I (heart) hot moms
* Don't drink pee
* Spin the Bottle Regional Champion
* McLusty
* DJ's scratch their 12 inch
* Eat Oysters...Get Lucky
* I'm not with stupid anymore
Hard to think that just a few days ago, I had only great things to say about the Mississippi River. I'm not feeling so friendly towards it today after the bridge collapse in MN.
Many of you are probably not too familiar with the city of Minneapolis, let alone the I-35W bridge that crosses over the river. This bridge is a main thoroughfare into downtown and to the University of MN. This is a bridge that my best friend travels over everyday to get to work. This is the bridge we used to use to visit my grandparents and the one my parents use often to visit their close friends in Stillwater. This is the bridge that a caravan of buses traveling to my church camp drives over several times each week. This is the bridge my dad traveled over yesterday morning and the one my mom was going to be on early this morning.
Thankfully, my family and friends are safe. I've not heard of anyone known to me that is injured or dead. Still this sort of event makes you wake up a bit and realize that despite how safe you may try to be, there are some things that are totally out of your control. And that scares me.
Do they ever work? Seriously. Ever?
I don't understand why they are showing up in all public places. Establishments are actually choosing to replace normal flush toilets with toilets that begin to flush two seconds after you start to pee. And then after you actually finish and want to make the toilet flush again, despite frantic waving hand gestures, the "seeing eye thing" pretends it is suddenly blind.
Does this make anyone else's head hurt?
So I know I've been really slow on writing my fantasies. My problem is that there are several fantasies I have that I really want to come true and could potentially, so I'm not sure that really qualifies them as a fantasies and don't want to jinx myself by calling them a fantasy in case that could some how make them not happen. I'm insane, I know.
But while lying in bed last night, flipping from side to side, not being able to fall asleep, I thought of a fantasy that I have had in the past.
I think it would be really cool to raft down the Mississippi. Like Huck Finn. Of course, it would be completely impractical to build myself a raft out of logs, tying them together with rope. And although I've not seen much of the Mississippi outside of Minnesota, I'm guessing there are some rough parts that would not be too kind to a little raft. Not to mention the problem that a raft might have with the waterfall and several lock and dams. Also, how much respect to you think a barge is going to give me?
But how cool would it be to float all the way down the river, starting up at Lake Itasca and making my way through the Twin Cities, St. Louis, Memphis and New Orleans, all 2320 miles. I'd construct some sort of makeshift sail and have a cooler full of water, diet coke and food. I would camp on the shores of the river and stock up on provisions in the little towns that most assuredly line the river. I'd wear sunscreen. And I take pictures. Lots of them.
According to the Wikipedia article on the Mississippi, the retention time from start to finish is 90 days. I'm assuming that is how long it takes the same drop of water to travel the length of the river. So, for me it would probably take longer, since I wouldn't be sleeping on the water, I would guess four months or so. But I just read that I guy swam it in 68 days, so who knows.
What I really desire is to be in the middle of the river, down where the river is so wide that just thinking about swimming across makes your tired, at twilight, far from any big cities. I want to lay down on my raft and stare at the sky and watch as the stars appear one by one. I want to see just how large the world is and how small my troubles really are. I look forward to the sound of the lapping water, crickets chirping in the distance and to the peace that I think laying there will bring me.
As a lover of all things sweet, I feel it is my personal duty to pass along notice that this Sunday is National Ice Cream Day. I urge all of you to get out and enjoy some deliciousness, whether it be Peppermint Bon Bon or Mint Chocolate Chip, Cookies and Cream or Cake Batter Fudge, Zanzibar Chocolate or Old Fashioned Vanilla. I feel this is something we all must do as residents of this nation.
I plan to be celebrating this holiday at Sweet Occasions. However, Cold Stone Creamery, Sebastian Joe's or Dairy Queen would work just as well. I'd suggest the Birthday Cake Remix, Chocolate Oreo and Peanut Butter Cup Blizzards, respectively.
But please tell me what you would get!
So I've been gone. Now I'm back. We were in Florida for the fourth and it was lovely as usual.
Some fairly non-exciting things have occurred since I've been gone, including, our basement flooding, our dishwasher being recalled and the continued presence of mice poop but no sightings of actual mice.
I think we have all those things taken care of for the most part, although cleaning out the basement did force us to throw out a lot of soggy items including a bunch of pictures, which was depressing.
I dreamt about rattlesnakes and a really large spider, a tarantula perhaps, last night. What's up with that?
My love of tennis has returned. Ok, not that it ever really disappeared, it's just that I never got myself out to play and when I did I would only feel depressed because I knew I used to be a much better player than I currently am. Perhaps Wimbledon provided the spark that got me back out on the court again. I was enthralled with the Nadal/Federer match. Drew and I had a great time playing the other night and there were even glimpses of my former self.
The heat has passed. As it has been all over the country, Chicago had been suffering a major heat wave. But it passed over night and now I'm sitting on the deck in glorious 70 degree sunny, non-humid weather. Me likes.
Caper is sweet. I think he is getting sweeter and calmer by the day. I still worry about the day when we have kids and he barks his high-pitched bark and makes me want to strangle him for waking them. But I will continue to hope that as he ages his voice becomes more mellow and he realizes the mail woman is really not worth the bark.
And that's all that I've got.
I appreciate the taste of sweetness that a fortune cookie gives you after a salty Chinese meal.
However, more and more I've become frustrated by the lack of fortunes within. Instead of providing you with a prediction of what the future might hold, it tells you about some personality trait that you have or something else equally stupid, whether it's true or not.
On a weekend trip to the North Shore in Minnesota, Drew and I went walking along Lake Superior. While gazing out at the vast lake, we stumble upon a rocky beach. We discover an old large house fifty yards up from the beach. The house is old but in good condition from the outside. We peak in the windows and fall in love with the original wood floors, tall ceilings and grand staircase. The next day, the house is ours.
We move into the house and begin preparing to open our very own bed and breakfast. Situated between Lutsen and Grand Marais and within the Superior National Forest, we now own an ideal spot to host families and couples for romantic or relaxing getaways. The house requires a bit of elbow grease, but we aren't afraid to get our hands dirty and after six months of major renovation and decoration, we are ready to open. We now have a beautifully restored kitchen with several ovens, dishwashers, and large counter tops, but the best feature by far is the large window that looks directly out to the lake.
Much of the furniture in the house was hand-made by a local man and his family that live in Grand Marais. The bed, tables and chairs are all made from the local timber and are stained gorgeously. We found some great antique pieces as well to spread throughout the house. But don't worry, it's not one of those crazy Victorian bed and breakfasts that is covered in doilies and smells faintly of the 1870's. Drew got admittedly nervous when I started shopping and decorating the house. However, he will now gladly agree that each room is better than the next and definitely worth the cost.
There are four guest bedrooms on the second floor of the house. There are queen beds in each, along with two author chairs cozied up next to the fireplace. The fourth bedroom has an adjacent room that has two twin beds and is thus the perfect place for vacationing families. We were amazed when we found the place to discover how vast the plumbing was and therefore adding a bathroom to each bedroom proved to not be a problem.
The third floor is where Drew and I live. We have a spacious enough bedroom along with a bathroom, sitting room and office. The business end is run out of this floor.
The main floor is composed of a large living area decorated with large chairs and sofas and bookcases. We have quite an extensive library and encourage the enjoyment of the books. The room has become so popular that guests often will enter and be amazed at how five or six others are sitting contentedly in front of the large wood fireplace reading and absolutely silent.
Adjacent to this room is the large communal dining room where we serve all three meals. The large table can fit up to sixteen people, which allows for great conversations and hearty laughter. It is over the meals there that I have met some of the most interesting people and learned the most.
After being declared "a natural" in the culinary courses I took prior to opening the bed and breakfast, I dived into cooking. The menu changes depending on the season and what I feel like cooking. Drew is in charge of making custom omelettes and he does a fantastic job even when they contain veggies he's not fond of. My dad's caramel rolls are always a hit as well. Lunches tend to be a bit more laid back, typically sandwiches and salads. We encourage our guests to get and explore and are happy to provide them with a packed picnic basket, red-checkered tablecloth and all. For dinner, grilling is common, particularly in the summer and early fall. Drew can grill up some killer pork chops. Being that we are in Minnesota, I am not adverse to serving up hot-dishes in the winter. Desserts is where my true heart lies however and I enjoy experimenting with new recipes. However, rhubarb is a stable in the early summer and I have won many people over by serving them my warm rhubarb-strawberry pie.
Our bed and breakfast has access to the nature trails where if you are quiet and lucky, you can see deer feeding and an incredible variety of birds. We have sea kayaks and if the wind on the lake isn't too strong, I will lead kayaking trips out along the shoreline. Many of our guests are fresh out of the Boundary Waters and have stopped off at our place for a few days of relaxation after roughing it in the wild. Therefore we have hired a massage therapist to come and offer massages to those weary souls. My nursing skills continue to come in handy as many of these hikers will have bangs and bruises that need tending to.
One week each year we close the bed and breakfast to guests and have our whole family to visit. The kids run around and play in the yard while the adults drink wine, get caught up and stay up late gossiping about the latest happenings. We share the responsibilities of cooking and cleaning and enjoy being free from the real world if only for a small time.
My favorite time of each day is sitting out on the porch with Drew, talking with him while our puppy lies at our feet as we rock.
Albert: I don't usually tell this to people, but you should really get a pest inspection before you buy a house.
Me (silently in my head): Thanks a frickin' lot, Al! I'll do that the next time that the house I'm buying is full of mice. See the previous owners did not happen to mention any mice because, I don't know, they wanted to, uh, sell their house!
Me (smiling and out loud): Huh, yeah, nobody ever mentioned that to us. Funny!
Later
Albert: See, I have ADD.
Me (in head): Why are you telling me this?
Later
Albert: We have a cool job later this week. We get to sit up in cranes and shoot pigeons.
Me (out loud): Huh? Shoot pigeons? With what? Up in a crane?
Me (in my head): How oh how did he get into this line of work? Isn't sitting up in a crane a bad idea when he has already admitted to not being able to sit still? Please go now.
Me (out loud): So, I'll see you in two weeks. Soda for the road?
So I've been tagged to write three fantasies about myself. It turns out this is a tough question. I've been thinking about it and the wheels are currently churning on two different ideas, but I am going to let them mature a bit more before I set them in stone.
Meanwhile, I'm headed to Carleton for the weekend. Somehow five years have flown by and it's time for all our classmates to get together to celebrate and get drunk. It should be a grand old time. I'm just hoping there aren't too many probing questions asked of me, if you know what I mean.
While there I also will get to check in with my family. My dad has transferred into a weight bearing cast. He thinks this is a "do whatever you want now" cast and has started mowing the lawn and installing air conditioners while on crutches. Argh. Surely that can not be a good idea.
Yay for me! I reached the one hundred mark.
While my frequency of posts waxes and wanes, I am proud of sticking with it for almost a year. I'm sure the next hundred posts will include more of the same: Caper stories, vacation pictures and me complaining about untimely contractors. But hopefully it will also include some big changes and fun, unique stories!
Thanks to everyone for reading!
Drew alerted me this morning to the fact that Al Gore was signing copies of his new book at the downtown Borders. I had some errands to run downtown anyways, so I decided to go down there and get his autograph. Three hours, one detailed tour through the philosophy and children's books sections and some incredibly sore feet later, I got three books signed and a compliment on my Vote For Change t-shirt.
There were lots of people talking him up about running for 2008. Petitioners were out along with t-shirt and button vendors. I don't think he has definitively said that he will not run, just that he currently has no plans. What do you think, will he?
Back home at last. It's always wonderful to come home. But here are some fun pictures from the last week!
Pine Needles Hole #18. Watch the Ladies U.S. Open for more views of the golf course we played!
Here are two boys looking mean at the Baltimore aquarium. Why don't boys smile for pictures?
Waiting for the Bride.
The wedding was beautiful and wonderful, despite the rain intermission. Drew did a great job of officiating, although perhaps he should only be allowed to perform indoor weddings from now on. He may be jinxed.
Our final evening was a night of laughter. At least for Kate and me. It consisted of a "banquet" (quoted because the food was blech) and an award ceremony.
Imagine if you will:
Approximately one hundred white, middle-aged +, wealthy women screaming and hollering while dancing to YMCA. Or perhaps doing the train around the room, weaving in between tables. How about the electric slide? It appeared as though these women had been waiting the whole week to cut loose and take a turn on the dance floor. They were insatiable. I wish I had photos to share with you all.Another highlight was when Peggy Kirk Bell, the 85 year-old founder of the golf school and apparently a First Lady of Golf pulled her wig off for no discernible reason.
So we ditched the standard buffet dinner tonight. Every meal has left a lot to be desired and we aren't big fans of the bad jokes and chats that inevitably follow the meal. So after sweating our butts off and being outside for nine some hours, we decided to indulge in some fried goodness.
And boy did we.
Wait for it...
Steak fries covered in cheese and bacon.
D-E-L-I-C-I-O-U-S.
Of course, any weight I may have hoped to have lost this week rejoined my hips after I followed that with fried chicken and beer battered onion rings.
But boy was it yummy.
It's always nice to get away from the crazy hectic city. I'm currently in Southern Pines, North Carolina. The surroundings are beautiful, pine trees absolutely freakin' everywhere. I'm here for golf camp with Kate and Drew's mom. Now I just started playing golf a year or two ago and am not very good, so when the offer to go to golf camp came up, I couldn't afford to miss the opportunity. Drew is a very good golfer and my goal is to one day at least not slow him down on the course.
So after golf lessons yesterday afternoon and this morning, my body is sore. I've had three grip changes and tons of other minor adjustments, but I think they are all for the better. Every so often, everything just clicks into place and I have a beautiful shot. I'm about to head out to the golf course, so we'll see if I can put any of it into practice.
The only downside of it all is that I am going to have some really funky tan lines for Umo's wedding this weekend.
You know it's a shitty week, when two of your three blog post's titles contain the words sadness or suckiness. Granted the one in between those two was about good things but that was just my naivete in not knowing what was still to come.
So last night, my family's dear sweet beloved Cocker Spaniel, Pepper, died. She escaped from my parent's yard and dashed into the street, where she was hit. Thankfully, she died instantly and did not suffer. But she was only eight years old and was supposed to live many more happy years with our family.
We got her after I returned from my first year of college. I vividly remember going to the Petland store off of Highway 94, just east of St. Paul and picking her out. She had been returned to the store because the original purchaser was not able to take good care of her. She was just a little bitty thing, black and white and able to fit into your two hands. She was a present for my dad.
We brought her home and got my dad down into the family room and made him sit down, with his arms out and his eyes closed. We put her down in his arms and it was love at first sight. He pretended to be angry that we didn't consult with him about buying her, but he really was pleasantly surprised.
Pepper loved popcorn. Rightfully so, I mean who doesn't? Plus my dad makes some seriously good stove-top popcorn. She didn't eat any other human food, but she knew exactly where my dad kept the popper and when he would pull it out, she would faithfully follow him and wait for him to cook it. She would be rewarded by the handfuls of popcorn my dad would "accidentally" drop on the floor.
She was so well behaved that on walks my parents would let her off-leash. She would scamper into the yards, chasing after rabbits or squirrels, but would always return to walk next to my parents and would obediently sit before crossing the street.
So I don't know if you know much about Cocker Spaniels, but usually non-show ones have their tails clipped so that all that is left is a little nubbin. Her tail was so cute and her butt would shake so excitedly when you came in the door or came home after several months of not seeing her.
I think she was a bit unsure of Caper when she first met him. He was a crazy dog and was in the throes of puppy hood when he came home for his first Thanksgiving, but her wariness turned to affection and every visit thereafter, they would follow each around everywhere. If either of them started barking, the other was sure to join in right away to back the other one up. One of the things I most look forward to when I got home to Minneapolis, is taking Caper and Pepper on a walk down to Lake Harriet and the rose garden.
It's been a long time since I've lost a pet. Daisy, our first Cocker Spaniel got sick and we had to put her down. It was one of the hardest things to do, taking her into the vet and saying good-bye. It seemed as though everyone in the office had started to cry by the time we were starting to leave. It was also the first time I saw my dad truly weep.
In a way though, I think her death was easier. We knew she was sick and we didn't want her to be in pain. So we had a bit of time to wrap our minds around her not being with us any more.
Pepper's death was just so sudden and unforeseen. We are all in shock and being four hundred miles away doesn't make it any easier for me to process. I keep thinking that I must be crazy for getting so upset over a dog. It's not like she ever told me she loved me or that she really enjoyed when I rubbed her belly.But it is truly amazing how these creatures can become such a dependable and important part of your life.
I miss you already, Pep.Decks.
Decks with nice deck furniture.
Lovely weather that makes sitting on nice deck furniture on the deck glorious.
Wireless Internet and laptop computer that I can take out onto the lovely deck and use while sitting in the glorious weather on the comfy deck furniture.
And a Diet Coke.
My poor dad.
First, he gets food poisoning Saturday night and is a near constant visitor of the bathroom all night long.
Then he passes out, my mom freaks out and calls 911.
No worries, he's fine...ish. Just a vasovagal response, not something the medical world worries too much about.
So he goes back to bed. Wakes up again, passes out again. My mom, as instructed by the paramedics, attempts to get him on the floor.
CRACK.
Yes, that was his right fibula bone breaking as my mom dragged him to the floor.
Happy Mother's Day indeed.
So all festivities for Sunday were canceled as my parents went to urgent care and got a temporary cast on his leg.
Yesterday my dad goes in to get a permanent cast at the orthopedics and is told he has to have surgery if he ever wants to play tennis or ski again.
Yippee!!
So this morning at 7:15, my dad had a plate and 6 screws inserted into his leg. He will be in a cast for the next six weeks and most assuredly will go crazy.
Anyone know how to keep a 61-year old man, who otherwise would be working outside, driving around and playing golf, occupied for the next month and half?
There are many many things I enjoy about spring, what with the green buds and chirping birds every where. But the things I enjoy the most are the delicious smells. My two favorite smells in the world emit from lilacs and lillies of the valley. I enjoy my Caper walks
even more now that I can illegally pick these flowers from various walkways. Is it so bad that I take a bit of beauty away from others so that I can enjoy it?
So, we are going away for the weekend. Drew is attending the Berkshire conference and I'm going to see my sweeeeet niece turn one. Let's hope she's over the puking and diarrhea by then!
While we are away Caper is being boarded at a new place. It is called Stay. I dropped him off there this morning and got a tour and it looks really nice. It is right on the river and for an extra fee they can take a "nature" walk or go swimming in their very own dog pool. I am excited for him and was pleased to see how nice everyone is.
Plus they have web cams!!! So now I can be a neurotic doggy mom and check in on him. Go here and click on the Day Care East camera and you can check out Caper romping around with his new friends. So far he seems to be staying pretty close to the trainer in the room, he was quite nervous when I left. He has six hours of play time this afternoon though, so I hope he warms up and then gets worn out!
So somebody has Drew's number. Apparently, his big secret is out. No longer can he hide behind the facade of a 27 year old. We thought we were safe and covering our tracks well. But someone, somehow discovered the truth. Instead of just confronting us about our lies and deceit face to face, a sleazy, cruel move was taken. In the mail this afternoon, he received a letter from none other than The Scooter Store. How they discovered that he is in fact an old, decrepit, immobilized 97 year old is still under investigation. Clearly though we are going to have to buy several of these scooters in an effort to buy them off and keep them from spreading the truth.
At least each scooter comes with a FREE magnifying ruler.
So we survived our training session with Caper. And we learned he now has the distinction of being "socially sensitive." Hmm, hmm, hmm. I'm not sure what to think of that yet.
What I really want to blog about is eyes. I find that it is rare and very noticeable when someone makes prolonged eye contact with you when having a conversation. Maybe that is because I tend to look around or not hold eye contact for long. (Yes, I know that says bad things about me...). I find there gets to be that super uncomfortable moment where I just can't hold it anymore and have to break my gaze.
So, tonight at our session, before Drew got there, our trainer was doing lots of talking and boy, could his eyes pierce you. I figure he uses eye contact constantly with dogs and so this has just naturally just switched over to something he maintains with his human clients. It was weird though. But it was hard to move my eyes from his because he had some seriously beautiful blue eyes. So then I started to worry that maybe I was the one making crazy eye contact just so I could see his pretty eyes, but Drew later confirmed to me that his eyes definitely were unusual, so now I feel a bit less like a freak.
Caper and I are taking off for the Land of Lakes tomorrow. We were only home in Minneapolis for two days at Christmas, so this trip will allow for a bit more relaxation and time to see friends and family. Drew is joining us on Friday and I am very grateful I won't have to do the drive home all by myself. The drive there will be long enough. Here's hoping for no traffic at the tolls.
Also, I just learned the state drink of MN is milk! How awesome is that?!? I love me some milk.
Breakfast is not very special for me. I never desire a really big meal in the mornings and am usually completely content with a bowl of cereal or a piece of toast. Some say breakfast has the best foods and is their favorite meal of the day. To them, I emphatically say in my best Simon imitation,"BLECH."
However...
(You had to know that was coming)
... this morning I ate pure heavenly bliss. At our favorite local breakfast shop, m. henry, my month long craving for key-lime pie was fulfilled. I ordered the key lime brioche french toast and was so wonderfully satisfied that I would not have hesitated to lick the plate had we not been sitting by the window and had not been people looking in on us.
Let me just describe this delectable creation for you. The base is two large pieces of french toast. It's brioche toast and while I don't really know what that means or how it differentiates itself from other toast, it is quite delicious. In between the two pieces and spread out on top is delicious cream and lime curd. And while the word curd does not sound very appetizing, trust me when I say it's to die for. Sprinkled on top of the toast is powdered sugar, graham cracker crumbs and fresh blue/black/raspberries.
I wish I had a picture of both the dish and my face as I was enjoying it because that would convey my joy over my breakfast meal much better than a bunch of words. But what are you going to do.
So I am always amused when the answer to a crossword clue is 'egad'. It's a funny word that I never ever hear anyone use.
However, it is quite appropriate because I needed some sort of "mild exclamation" due to my complete lack of posts lately. For a while I had absolutely nothing to say and then things got extremely busy and I haven't had a moment to sit down at the computer. I'm only lucky enough to write this now because Drew kindly offered to cook up dinner tonight. Yummy stir fry.
So a brief run down of things that have happened recently and could have been blog worthy but now seem to be too far in the past to devote a whole entry to:
In an effort to feel like I am exercising, I have been taking Caper on a bunch of walks. Of course it doesn't hurt that it has been gorrrgeous outside recently.
Anyways, I am always curious about how far I walk, but since I usually do a different variation of the walk each day, I can't simply drive and and watch my odometer. But I have found a brilliant site on which you can measure your walk, run, or bike ride on. Thanks to the genius of Google, at Gmaps Pedometer, you can zoom into your zip code and determine the distance you go, tracking each turn you take, regardless of how screwy your route might be.
Check it out. It makes me feel like I actually might be burning some calories after all.
I like Don Cheadle. I think he's a good actor that can easily transition from drama to comedy.
I also like Adam Sandler. Billy Madison cracks me up every time I see it. Plus, I always enjoyed it when he pulled out his guitar and sang a rhyming song on Weekend Update on SNL.
We saw them both in a movie tonight. And I like Cheadle and Sandler together. They seem to have good chemistry. However, this movie didn't feel right to me. One too many random subplots that never got developed (even if it had, I think it would still be bizarre).
The other problem was the theater audience. I felt like everyone was very distracting (perhaps this just indicates that the movie wasn't able to hold my attention). However, I kept wondering about the mom and the three younger boys (10-12 yrs) who were a few seats behind me and must have come into the movie thinking it was a typical Sandler comedy. Had I been the mom, I would have been extremely uncomfortable during the sexual conversations the characters were having. And then there was the girl two seats down from me, there by herself, who would laugh enthusiastically (yet it sounded fake and hollow) at anything that might have been remotely intended to be a joke (yet still wasn't that funny). And she was checking her cell phone constantly and going in and out of the theater multiple times. There were also the three older-ish ladies who left (very noisily - laughing, clearly not upset) the movie a hour and 45 minutes into it. Why couldn't they stay for the last 20 minutes? Finally, there was the woman who ran into the theater and yelled to whoever she was with that they "have to leave now and to hurry." That seemed concerning.
Anyways, all of these things along with a strange movie at least made our evening entertaining.
Today, for example, during the 45 minutes that it was not raining we went on a walk and, surely in deference to my extreme dislike of cleaning up his muddy coat and paws, he chose to jump over puddles. Every single one. If we had been in some sort of dog show contest where hurdling over objects was involved, Caper would have taken home the blue ribbon. No doubt.
Each day there is a crucial moment that if not detected prior to its occurrence all hell will break loose.
That moment, of course, is when the mailman opens the front gate. What happens next is a chain reaction. First, Caper's ears perk up and his fur stands on end. He makes a growl/bark sound and then proceeds to sprint to the front door. He'll leap up on the chair that is next to door, alert and ready to pounce. All of that before the mailman walks the three steps to the stairs and then up the five stairs to the door.
Now if I'm lucky, Caper and I are in the family room and I have propped up a baby gate, thus preventing Caper from attacking the door and allowing him only to crouch down and hideously bark from afar. However, I do not spend all waking hours in that one room, so in the event that we are elsewhere in the house, my task is to try and intercept the dog on his chase to the front door. Once at the front door he barks ferociously, and if by horrible coincidence we do not have the usual mailman and the mail is actually put through the mail slot in the door, Caper will pounce on the mail and flail it around as though he was trying to kill a poor bunny. Now I try to outrun him or capture him mid-chase but it turns out this is dangerous as evidenced by a few moments ago when I leaped up from the computer and turned down the hallway to chase after him but then slipped on the hall runner and fell on my ass.
Of course it turns out if was a false alarm and the mailmen had not arrived.
The wait continues.
Often I am at a loss as to what title I should give a post. I want it to be topical, inviting, humorous and intriguing. Perhaps that is asking too much of 4-6 words. Anyhow, thinking about titles reminded me how in college I always hated titling a paper and I didn't even have any of the above criteria. I would save it until the very end (that often meant an hour before the class started) and then usually slap on a title that was very boring and basically summed up my thesis of the paper. For example, the title of my comps paper, senior year in college:
Translocation of effector proteins in type III secretion systems of Yersinia: An investigation into the lcrGVsycDyopBD operon
Our hopes of flying stand-by an hour earlier than scheduled were dashed when we realized that there wasn't an earlier flight. Probably should have checked into that before we left
I bought People, my ever reliable magazine that consistently distracts me from the terror that sometimes is all encompassing during take-offs. But it's whole purpose is to provide me with something new and amusing to look at, such as a shirtless David Beckham* limping around L.A., so I must leave the magazine rolled up in my backpack until we are taxiing down the runway and I can compare my choice of who's best dressed on page 7 with Drew's opinion.
Drew is reading the WSJ and is not very entertaining while he does that. Although he did just came up with an interesting moral dilemma for which I have no answer. Should criminal charges against someone be dropped if the defendant is severely ill (i.e having three different kinds of cancer)?? It has something to do with a Hewlett Packard scandal, I'm not really sure.
Moving on...
So you may all be wondering why I'm in a
However, then I had to bring Sexy Back (i.e. Justin Timberlake came into town, Kate had tickets and ten of us rocked out Tuesday night at his concert).
So that was AWESOME, but it delayed my plans for NY. I came out yesterday morning on an absurdly early flight, which meant I only slept for 4 1/2 hours**, but it did enable me to meet up with Drew for lunch, get some belated birthday shopping done and take a tour of the NBC studios. I saw Studio 8H, where they shoot SNL and am now incredibly impressed with what that show is able to do.
Last night we went out for a lovely romantic dinner at Piano Due before seeing Spring Awakening. Following the musical, when asked for comments, Drew said, "with its fiery orchestration and even more incendiary treatment of the trials and tribulations of growing up, Spring Awakening is a triumphant tale, a coming-of-age story set many years ago yet remains relevant in today's turbulent times." If that doesn't make you buy your tickets today, then let me just add that there is also nudity!
Today I walked a gadrillon miles around the upper west side hoping to spot Madonna carting around all her kids or perhaps buy a bagel from a vendor who had just sold a muffin to Reese Witherspoon. Alas I did not see any celebrities***. But I made it to the Frick museum and spent a long time in there looking at the art. Since I didn't have my preferred art aficionado (Watie, where were you?!), I got the audio guide and felt very knowledgeable and cultured when I left. I'd recommend it to you all.
Ok, our plane has arrived and GateGourmet is now loading it with several expensive food items that no one will buy. No worries, I have pretzels and Reese's for the trip. Combined with People and Drew, I think I'm set.
* I personally don't really care a wit about Becks (as Drew and teen girls everywhere is fond of calling him) but apparently he sells magazines.
**Anyone else wake up all the time when you know you can't be late for something the next morning?
***I'm pretty sure I saw Mary Tyler Moore in midtown yesterday though.
The prior residents of our house were weather fanatics. Or at least that is what we assumed when we viewed the house and saw the large barometer on the living wall, thermometers spread throughout the house and other various weather-related objects that appeared to have little purpose. Now we have benefited from this because they left a handy thermometer mounted outside our back door (i.e. only door we use) and a weather vane atop of our garage monstrosity. So now I never step out of doors without knowing the temperature. You would think I know the wind direction too, but I'm not convinced the wind vane is useful for anything besides decoration.
Anyhow, just now I was letting the dog outside and noticed the temp was 60+ degrees. Yippee! So I went out with the Caper, picked up some trash that had blown into the yard, finally took our wreath down (hey, better late than never) and removed a nasty wad of leaves that had been plugging the gutters. Ready to head inside, Caper comes trotting up behind me covered in mud splatters. See, with the glorious temperatures, the inner part of our yard has turned into a muddy lake.
Now being that our back yard has northern exposure, there was still a bit of snow around the edges. So I invented a new game to play with Caper. I grabbed some snow and threw it up in the air in the hopes that Caper would think it was a ball or some other toy and lunge after it. And lunge after he did. He loved it. Perhaps that's because if he actually caught it, the snow would just dissolve in his mouth. But the part I loved was when he didn't catch it and the snowball landed amid the other snow and Caper would dig in the snow looking for the snow I had just thrown. Quite comical, I tell ya. Ok, fine and good, but the key part of the game is that the snow has to be thrown over an area with lots of other snow. This way Caper leaps into the snow and cleans his paws and legs of mud, eliminating the need for me to give him a bath. Brilliant.
So we are obviously back from our trip to St. Lucia. We had a wonderful time and felt luckily to be able to get out of O'Hare despite the bad storms that were in the Midwest. Most of the week was spent lounging by the pool at our villa or at the beach. Lots of reading was done and crosswords finished. I was happy to discover that we did get ABC, so I was able to watch the Oscars (Sadly, I'm a die-hard fan). We didn't have much of an agenda other than to relax and that was just perfect.
One day we did venture on a land and sea tour. We drove into the rain forest in our open-top Jeep and saw the beautiful lush inland. Alas, there are no monkeys on the island but we did see a boa constrictor (not to mention goats, pigs, cows and dogs galore all on the side of the road)! 
After visiting the island volcano and botanical gardens we ate lunch at a cocoa plantation and then boarded a catamaran and sailed back home, stopping at a beach for a swim on the way. It was very lovely and a perfect day.
The other highlight of the trip was the wedding. Eleven of us were gathered on the island to witness and celebrate the marriage. 
It was a beautiful wedding in a small gazebo at the top of a hill that overlooked the ocean. We threw our swimsuits on afterwards and relaxed in the sun and then enjoyed a proper English tea before having a big dinner altogether that night. It was great to see how in love Siobhan and Mark are.
I would highly recommend St. Lucia to vacationers. It is a gorgeous, friendly island with plenty to do if adventurous and plenty of beach to relax on if need be.
So during my ranting last night* as we were driving home, Drew pointed out that I may have an irrational hatred of Fifth Third Bank. Whenever I drive past one of their banks or see an advertisement, my blood pressure rises, my heart starts racing, and my mouth starts spewing out incredulous statements. Every time. Just ask Drew. He thinks I'm nuts.
Now, I am not nor have I ever been a customer of this bank nor have I heard of any one having negative experiences. It's just that the name of this bank is so crazy and incomprehensible to me!!!!! I mean, what is a fifth third exactly? Do they mean one fifth of a third, i.e. one-fifteenth? Or perhaps it was supposed to Five Thirds?
The name Fifth First would make sense. After all there are a bunch of First Banks, of one variety of another and this could just be the fifth of the many First banks. But I haven't heard of one Third bank, let alone five. And then their logo is a fraction. Which makes the argument for Five Thirds even stronger. Now Wikipedia tells me the name is because two bank merged at some point in the past. But I don't care. Change the name to something logical.
OK, I'm insane. I'm going to stop now.
*That sounds as though I have a nightly rant fest. I don't. Usually.
So this weekend we are off to St. Lucia for a week of fun in the sun. The impetus for the trip is that my au pair from when I was five is going to be getting married on the island and since she has come to three high school and college graduations and my wedding all the way from England, we felt it would only be right to go to her wedding. I mean, it is in the Caribbean, we'd be crazy to have said no.
So, please excuse my absence. I promise to post some fun photos when we get back.
So I turned on The Mix and was surprised to hear an acoustic version of Hey Ya (Outkast). I was completely thrown off and it took me a while to place it. I found it amusing to hear this guy sing, in a mellow touchy-feely sort of way, and tell ladies to be on "their baddest behavior." The two just don't fit together for me. And then when he got to the "shake it" part, I knew it was a bad idea.
They are here!!
After a childhood full of Girl Scouts, the last two years have been very sad because I have not had any Girl Scout cookies. No one came around selling them nor did I see them being sold in any grocery stores. After expressing deep sorrow and disappointment last year, Drew admitted that a co-worker had a child who had been selling him, but that he had declined to buy any.
WHAT!!!?!?!
How someone could make a mistake like that was unfathomable. I think Drew got the message though and yesterday he came home with five boxes of delicious Girl Scout Cookies. Now five is a reasonable amount, but I am still inclined to buy more. Does that make me crazy? I think not.
After all, Thin Mints keep very well in the freezer.
First off, I love Target. It's bad that it is only four blocks away. It's way too convenient and I find myself being their several times each week. I frequent Target so much that I am now quite familiar with their afternoon cashiers. There's Lottie, the sixty-some year old lady who talked to me about her fear of losing her job during the first week after the store opened. There is the the manager lady who actually finds red tops that are flattering and interesting even when combined with the requisite khaki pants. There are the various security guards who I figure must wonder what else could I need from Target every time I come in. Although, then I think, don't flatter yourself, hundreds of people walk in these doors each day.
Anyhow, it's a great store.
Today, while waiting for Lottie to ring up the man in front of me, I was eyeing the conveyor belt. I always find it interesting to look at the variety of things people are buying and then make big assumptions about who they are, what they need those specific items for, etc. So the man was purchasing mostly food. Items included salad in a bag, Lay's potato chips, chocolate candy, a jar of soup (bean, I think), double stuffed Oreo's with peanut butter creme filling (I didn't even know those existed), bread, frozen broccoli, Ben and Jerry's chocolate fudge brownie ice cream, deli cut ham and turkey slices and American cheese singles. He also had a pair of socks, some batteries, several teeny candles (not tea light teeny, but small none the less) and a miniature Irish flag (yes, St. Patrick's Day decorations were already out). Other bits of information I gleamed from him is that he was not wearing a ring, he has a Target credit card and he did not drive (I saw him walking towards the bus stop as I drove away).
So, was this man buying food for tonight and before indulging in all the sweet desserts was he going to have a sensible dinner of soup and salad? Perhaps his daily lunch consists of a meat and cheese sandwich along with a handful of chips. Perhaps, he has a lady (or gentleman) friend and was planning to woo them in candlelight with chocolate deliciousness. Maybe due to all the snow we have received lately, he has run out of clean socks because they keep getting soaked and dirty after all the shoveling he has to do. Could his whole apartment already be decorated in green, white and orange and the flag was just the finishing touch? Or maybe he will take the flag to work and tape it up in his cubicle, proudly displaying his Irish heritage. Maybe he just broke up with someone and is going home to eat the whole pint of ice cream followed by the bag of chocolate, thus putting him into a food stupor and making him forget about Valentine's Day.
I'm sure I could go on, but I think you all have seen far enough into my brain for today.
