Christmas Haps

I'm on the fence on this one, so maybe you can help me out. Is it better to be sick while you're on vacation, and can therefore use your time off to rest up (and not worry about annoying your boss by being out sick for several days in a row), or is it better to be sick during real life so that you don't have to spend your precious vacation days grumpy, in bed, and with no appetite? I suppose the answer doesn't really matter, since no matter your preference, it's not like you can choose when you're sick. Except mental health days. Which I fully support.

The good news is I made it through the festivus weekend with the extended family before illness struck. And what a weekend it was. M had flown home with me and spent a few days in my hometown, and then we headed up (along with my parents and brother D) to my grandparents' house a few hours north where the larger family group gathers each Christmas season for our caroling extravaganza.

Once M left (a red-eye putting him back in the Cleve the morning of Christmas Eve), I got super sick, which is how I came to spend the majority of this week in bed. Not sleeping. Because I can't breathe. Of course it's been nice to be away from work (and the snow that finally showed up in Cleveland) regardless, and I've gotten quite a bit of writing done. I also had my diamonds final exam proctored at the public library yesterday. These gem tests are beasts to study for, as there's so much material being covered, but I'm happy to report that I passed. A few Christmas pics for you:

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FOR-E-VER and E-VER

Stats

This is just to let you know that we should have had 9 inches of snow in Cleveland by this point in the season. And we have had none. And there was much rejoicing.
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Weekend Review

I probably take living so close to Kirtland for granted. Most of the time when something is going on there at the sites, I don't go. Because I've already been. Many times. But M and I did spend Friday evening at the Historic Kirtland Visitor's Center, which is currently decked out with its annual nativity exhibit. Over 600 nativities from around the world are on display (on loan for the exhibit from people all over the community). From large and grand to small and plain, it's amazing to see so many interpretations. And it's hard to not feel moved in such a Christ-centered environment.

Something else I haven't really mentioned since her birth is M's sweet baby niece. While it's not possible for me to feel for her anything resembling what I feel for my nephews, baby A is positively darling. She has M wrapped around her finger, which is equally darling. We went over to M's sister and BIL's house for a game night, but all we ended up doing was playing with baby A.

And we finished up the weekend with what M had told me was an early Christmas present for me. I had no idea what it was until he handed me the tickets on the way over, but it was a concert featuring Tristan Prettyman, one of our favorite artists. If you don't know her, you really should check out her music. It's the second time this year we've seen her, and she has such a nice sound. Well done, M.

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Confession

Well, today is the day, my friends. The day I'm finally dragging my sweet and sour down to the Q for a Cavs game. Of all the years I've been here, this is officially the latest in the season I've made it without going to a game. The reason, not surprisingly, is that basketball will always be just a little bit worse now that a certain decision has proved fruitful for a certain player. No matter what happens now (like Miami never winning another championship, or Cleveland rising from the ashes to win one of their own), the experiment worked, and I'm less excited about the NBA right now than I have been at any other point in time. And that was before David Stern fined the Spurs last week. Jerk.

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Thanksgiving Report

Well, it's happened. M has met the family. And not just a dinner with the folks or an outing with a brother or sister. But the better part of a week spending every moment with my immediate family. Not that we're a hard family to be around, but I do give M full marks for being so easy-going himself. I would have certainly handled a 5-day meet-the-fam fest much less calmly.

More important than M meeting the entire fam was that the entire fam was together in the first place. It's been 6 years since we were all in the same place at the same time, and that's pretty remarkable slash ridiculous considering I only have three siblings and two of them have gotten married during those 6 years. We took advantage of this and took a family photo to replace the circa 1998 that's currently hanging in my parents' living room. We also did a session in the temple together, which was as special as it is rare. Think about it. All members of a family being active in church? That's no small feat.

Other than almost blowing M up on our Thanksgiving morning rocket-launching activity, there were no catastrophes to speak of, although I confess to a being plagued by a "worlds colliding" sensation the entire week. Is this normal? Don't answer that. It's just that he's the first person I've ever brought home, and things certainly become a bit more real when you see your boyfriend reading your nephews a bedtime story. Worlds colliding. It's not bad, it's just new. I guess the good news is it won't be so new when he joins me for Christmas in the PacNW. The bad news is I hear a live family nativity is in the works. Did I mention worlds colliding? Here are a few pics (mostly taken by M), and if I can figure out how to upload the videos (also taken by M), I'll post those sometime too.

Tale as old as time

When my friend KJ turned to me just before our stage performance of Beauty and the Beast began and said, "I might cry," l laughed. I think I actually scoffed. Partly because I thought she was joking, and partly because the idea of either one of us getting misty over Beauty and the Beast seemed ridiculous. I mean, it's Beauty and the Beast. Nothing about it has ever struck me as tear-worthy, plus we know it's going to work out in the end. I'm not sure then why I was so taken in by Belle in her yellow dress dancing with the Beast while Mrs. Potts sang the signature tune, but all I could think was, "THIS IS SO WONDERFUL!" In true sap style, my eyes welled up. I blame the woman sitting behind us, who was literally sobbing from the first measure of the introduction, but still, I found myself listening to the classic Angela Lansbury track this week every chance I got. Is this normal?

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My week with Sandy

So here's how it was supposed to go: Me and M in NYC for the weekend, M to fly back to the Cleve on Monday morning, leaving me in NYC to take a Monday-Friday jewelry lab class. Here's how it actually went: Me and M in NYC for the weekend, M's flight Monday morning cancelled, my Monday-Friday jewelry lab class cancelled. And that is how M and I came to be stuck in the shut-down city all week.

Cons
This essentially pushes the entire gemology degree back a year.
Many of the weekend things we had planned got cancelled.
There was nothing open.
We had to eat mac and cheese from a box to survive.
We were stuck in a freaking hurricane.

Pros
At least we HAD the mac and cheese.
Lots of quality time...just what you hope for while dating, right?
A tree didn't fall on on the apartment.
Had time to do lots of writing.
Good fodder for a book chapter someday.

Before and after the storm, we did get some good NYC fun in, including a food tour of Greenwich village, the Empire State Building, dessert at Serendipity, the NBC studios tour, a trip to Tiffany (oh yes I did), and four Broadway shows. So the trip wasn't a total bust. And like I said, even the being cooped up in the apartment part was nice. I loved seeing how calm and stress-free M is even in less than ideal circumstances. Such a nice balance to my tendency to fall apart when travel goes awry...and when life plans (ie. the gemology degree) get somewhat derailed. All things considered, it was a week I won't forget, and for many reasons. And my thoughts and prayers go out to those who suffered losses and continue to suffer hardships as the city recovers. When you think about your day to day problems, be grateful they are by comparison so miniscule.

A few of my favorite shots from the trip:

And in case you're wondering what a person resorts to for entertainment when stuck inside:

Fender Bender

When I heard the noise, M at the wheel, it sounded really bad. And I was confused, because I couldn't think of anything in his driveway that would be presenting such an obstacle to us backing up. Had there been a big branch that I hadn't seen? A neighbor's bike? I could recall no such item when I had pulled in a few minutes earlier, and that's when I realized what had happened. I suppose it's inevitable that if you always park at the bottom of your boyfriend's driveway, he will eventually forget it's there and back into it one night while you are on your way to meet some friends for dinner. And he will feel positively awful about it. Such was the case with M, who had never been in so much as a fender bender before and could not believe he had been distracted enough to have done it. I was far less concerned, but that could be because I've got a ditched car to my name, so my frame of reference is a little different. In fact, I could almost shrug it off completely after looking at the damage, because it sounded much worse than it actually was. After wiping off the scuff, there's really no evidence of the impact at all. Still, sort of a weird area for a relationship. "So, do I just give them your insurance info?" felt like a horrible thing to ask, even though I still asked it. I sense this being in a book someday.

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The Past 10 Days

I've been on the road for work, and while business travel isn't very frequent for me (so I shouldn't complain), this trip was a bit rough. It was just a long stretch to be gone at one time, and I find myself worn out and feeling yucky today. Not that it's any wonder, what with getting almost no sleep (I had to go out and buy a box fan for my hotel room), eating out exclusively (Tucanos is SO never a good idea, digestively speaking), and having no time at all to exercise. But rather than make this a venting session, I'd prefer instead to focus on a few bright spots along the way.

First, I recently became a member at a parking facility near the Cleveland airport, and I am not exaggerating when I say it has changed my entire travel experience for the better. I can't believe I didn't do this years ago, especially because people were always recommending it to me. But I always insisted on parking "at the airport." It made me feel, I don't know, safer? Or at least closer. But the thing is, even though I technically park in the airport garage, it's still a good 10-15 minute walk to the main ticketing terminal. With bags in hand. This parking service I now use is not only cheaper than the airport garage (pretty significantly), but they also 1) provide you with a free water, newspaper, and car wash each time you park, 2) have a shuttle follow you in and pick you up directly at your car, and 3) have a shuttle waiting at the airport that drives you back to your exact parking spot. It's amazing. Amazing, I tell you. No lugging bags around, extra perks, and a cheaper price? I am hooked.

Second, while recruiting is not my favorite thing in the world, I do enjoy getting back to the campuses I attended and feeling of the excitement and possibility there. Or maybe I just like having reasons to remember my own experiences. I walked past the dorm in which I used to live and texted one of my former roommates to tell her where I was. And while in Provo, I ran into a business school classmate of mine, who happened to also be in town recruiting, and for about 5 seconds, it was like I never left. I guess it's always surprising to me how easy it is to be transported back to a different time. I hope I never lose that fondness for memory.

And finally, the best part of the trip was that it allowed me to spend a little bit of time with my brothers and sister-in-law. I hadn't seen D in over two years, so seeing him was a special treat, and I'm so proud of him for his missionary service and grateful for his safe return. A few pictures from the trip:

Clementine's Day Out

My cousin W, who stayed with me for a night while heading out to the east coast several months ago, stopped through Cleveland on his way back west and used my house as his homebase for the past couple of days. I feel bad that my work-week self didn't show him more of a good time, but he was a good sport anyway. Since he stayed in all day yesterday working, I didn't think he'd have any noteworthy nuggets to discuss as we sat over dinner, so imagine my surpreeze when he casually mentioned that he had left the bathroom window open and Clementine got out. I was trying to process the words as he spoke them. But things like "window open," "on the roof," and "couldn't see her" were very confusing. My cat had escaped? She had gone onto the roof? W had had to go downstairs, find a stool, and coax her down from the awning she'd jumped on? Yes, yes, and yes.

I won't lie, I was freaking out at this story. Not at W, but internally. To think she could have run away and been lost forever is super distressing. But distress aside, it's entertaining to picture what this must have looked like. Not that I can really do it justice, because this is W's story to tell, but I'm so glad he noticed her prancing on the roof and that he, despite her not being his biggest fan, was able to get her back into the house. That she spent the next hour in the basement (where she isn't allowed) doesn't even bother me because at least she was inside. Honestly, poor W. Who knew I had such a mischievous cat? Except probably me.

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New car!

There's really no point in taking a picture of it because it's my same car, just the new model. Yep, another Accord. I just swapped out my 2010 for a 2012 (didn't like the 2013 models...chrome handles? really?). I like that I know my way around the car, that it's familiar. But to keep things interesting, I did upgrade to leather interior and heated seats. Which even on day one I can tell they'll be worth it. My commute smelled like leather and my butt was toasty warm on this chilly fall morning.

I never took myself for a leaser, as it always seems like you end up paying more money. Probably because you end up paying more money. But I've grown attached to the comfort associated with having a new car; a car that isn't going to, say, break down in the middle of an intersection in a very ghetto part of town; a car that won't need any maintenance beyond an occasional oil change. Perhaps if I had a gearhead husband (or a husband period) I might feel less helpless when it comes to car issues, but me and my singleton self are willing to pay a premium to always have a new car. Does this make me feel kind of lame? Yes. Wimpy? Absolutely. But you try breaking down in the ghetto and then let's talk.

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Judgey Wudgey Was a Bear

My company (or at least our building) held an event recently that sort of rubbed me the wrong way. It was a networking event for women, and I wasn't really sure why we needed our own event. Especially when the executive who kicked the whole thing off explained what inspired the event in the first place. He said that a group of engineers, "some of whom were women," recently accomplished a project of some kind. "I said to my colleagues," said the executive, "we need to get the word out about things like this!" Um, things like what? That there are women at this company who are engineers? That women have skills and potential in the field of business? I mean, what is this? Why did we need to be told this? And why did we need to be told this while being fed, I kid you not, champagne and chocolates?

A panel of women executives (we have those? let's get the word out!) answered scripted questions, and there was one woman in particular whose answers stood out to me. It's at this point in the story that I must confess that I tend to have a hard time not judging mothers who work even when they don't have to, mothers who work more than they have to, and mothers who deem funding a particular lifestyle more important than time with their children. I've been trying to work on this, because while my own personal choice would be to stay at home with my children if at all possible, I realize that women are different and that it is a very personal decision each must make. But I still struggled listening to this woman explain that she stands by her decisions even though they cost her her marriage. Even though they mean she only gets to spend every other week with her children (more than 50% of her time is spent travelling internationally). Even though her children frequently tell her they wish she were around more often. She responds to them by telling them that travelling internationally makes her happy, and that it is because of her job that they are able to live in a big house and go on fancy vacations. "You can have it all," she told us as she concluded her answers on the topic of work-life balance.

I left the event early, and I was shaking my head a little as I walked away. Because to me, this woman clearly doesn't have it all. And I'm not sure how what she's doing can possibly be worth all that time away from her kids. But she's obviously very different than I am. She has a very real need to be a contributing employee in a kick-ass job. While I know what it's like to love my job (and to love the lifestyle it provides me), I've never really had that need, as work for me will always be Plan B. But to each her own. So this is me, not judging.

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The Three Amigos

In case you can't tell, I just got back from visiting the nephews. Some of you probably think I'm there all the time, but can you blame me? They are just the cutest. I mean, take a good look at this face:

And the big surprise this trip was A, who at the age of almost 2 was for the first time genuinely excited about me. I think it was the first time he really registered that I was 1) his aunt, 2) really cool, and 3) positively hilarious. I'm probably not actually cool or hilarious, but the fact that A thinks I am really warms my heart. Everything I said, he laughed. Everything he wanted or needed, he wanted me to get/do. And every time I was out of his sight, he'd ask, "Where's Ta-yee?" And so it turns out that my biggest fan is actually my smallest. Bless his little heart.

I miss them already.

Clementine: "What am I, chopped liver?"

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Life/Death

There's a line in the movie Elizabethtown when the main character--who's in town for a funeral and ends up in the hotel room next to a 3-day wedding bash--is comforted by the drunk groom, who feels quite badly about the main character's predicament. "Life and death, death and life...right next door to each other," is what the groom says. Which is sometimes exactly how it happens.

M became a first-time uncle this week. Yesterday, to be precise. If you knew M at all, you'd know that he has been waiting for this his whole life. In other baby news, one of his best friends was set to become a first-time dad this week, only tragedy struck the delivery, and his friend's wife passed away during childbirth. One can't help but cry at hearing stories like this, because even if you didn't know the family, there is now one more wifeless man in the world. One more baby who will never know his mother.

And so I left work early yesterday to accompany M to the wake of his friend's wife, P. P & C had only been married for just over a year, and I'm not sure if the brand new baby makes me feel better about the situation or worse, but I don't think anything could have really prepared me for how awful I would feel seeing this broken man standing in front of his wife's open casket.

From the wake we headed straight to the hospital where we were able to hold M's brand new niece, sweet baby A. I guess the contrast of it all is what ultimately did me in. Or maybe no one can really be expected to take in so much on the emotional spectrum in such a short amount of time, but by the time I was alone with my thoughts on the way home, I began to weep. Because life is horrible. And life is wonderful. You just don't know which one you'll get on any given day. And sometimes that seems like too much of a gamble. Yet other times it seems totally worth it.

Crossing the Border

When you pay to expedite your passport, the laws of cruel irony state that it would have arrived in plenty of time had you not expedited it. I guess it's better to be safe than sorry, which is what I told myself as I mailed what seemed like an astonishingly large check last month. I had exactly 4 weeks until the trip for which I needed the passport, and this was right on the bubble of the current processing times. As it was, I got my renewed passport back in 8 days.

M and I returned late last night from our first road trip together, which was a long weekend up in Wasaga Beach, Canada. You could say the reason for the trip was the softball tournament M was playing in, because the reason for the trip was, in fact, the softball tournament M was playing in. Winning every single game they played, his team walked away with the championship, and I must say, if you're going to have a softball tourney, there's no better place than the beach. The weather was perfect, the water was warm, the food was tasty, and the company was delightful. I'm already looking forward to the next trip.

Apologies for my white legs.

 And if you just can't stand to look at them (the white legs), then look at this one instead.

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Dear Cleveland Heights Police Officer

I got pulled over for speeding last night, something that hasn't happened in probably 8 years. And that's quite an accomplishment, given that the Cleveland Heights area in general is very tricky to navigate. The signs change from 35 mph to 25 mph frequently, and the cops aggressively monitor these areas. I almost feel badly for any guests who come to my house, because I can name several of them who have been pulled over while on their way to or from my house.

I'm not sure what was going through my head as I passed one of the 25 mph areas yesterday---except I was listening to one of M's mix tapes and probably thinking about him--but I completely forgot about it and sailed through at 40. Just as I realized it, the cop pulled out behind me, and for the first time, I wasn't filled with my usual resolve to play dumb. He had caught me. And I knew better. So when he asked if I knew the speed limit, I told him it was 25 mph, that I just hadn't been thinking. He asked if I lived here, to which I told him I did. That I travelled this road almost every day. Again, I really knew better. When he asked if I knew how fast I was going, I told him it was probably 40 mph, which he confirmed was true. I was figuratively pulling my pants down for a spanking (in the form of a ticket), which is why I was confused when the officer said he wasn't going to give me one. "Because you were honest with me," he said.

How intriguing. Because I was honest with him? Here it was, the one time in my life I thought I really did deserve a ticket after being pulled over. The one time I had no excuses and didn't even feel like defending myself in the least. The one time I admitted I knew the limit, lived in the area, and knowingly sailed through at 15 over. Busted, right? Or not. Whatever. I'll take it.
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Every 4 Years

It shouldn't shock any of you that the Olympics make me and my writer-self happier and more sentimental than usual. I feel more bonded to my fellow Americans and more sure that dreams can come true (at least for the beautiful, athletic people of the world). 

Despite seriously cutting into my bedtime, I'm sad the Olympics are over, and considering they only happen once every 4 years, these games have had me reflecting on the things in my life that have changed since Beijing. Incidentally, I had just moved to Cleveland in the summer of 2008, so the Olympics-driven reflection phase I now find myself in has really been a look back on major life happenings since moving here.

And many more good times in between. Looking forward to Rio and the pictures I can add to this list 4 years from now. Also looking forward to the hopeful return of Summer Sanders, who was the source of my all-time favorite commentator moment back in 2000. "Swimmers have great packages...........of skill and talent." That they do, Summer. That they do. .