Not another Elf on a Shelf

To quote Twilight character Bella Swan, "No one has loved anyone as much" as I love my husband.

That said, he could always be better (who couldn't?!).  I wish I could invent an "Elf on the Shelf: Husband Version" to always keep mine--and yours--on his best behavior.

I only just learned about this Elf on the Shelf business three weeks ago and now I can't seem to get away from them. From what I gather from my Facebook feed, this elf guy, whom everyone must name on their own, does scouting trips about those in your home to the North Pole, reporting who was good and who isn't worth signing (ha - see what I did there).  The "only" problem is that I can't think of a good name for this new product. I spent WAY too much time thinking about this and before I knew it, I was in a day dream getting an offer from Mark Cuban on Shark Tank (though in reality I'd really want the offer to come from the guy with the thick, brown Ken doll hair whose name escapes me at the moment).

Before things to that point, or any point for that matter, there's still the whole product name hurdle to jump before we get really kick off R&D. Here are all the words I was trying to play/rhyme with: 

Spouse in the House
Lover Bear in the Chair
Wife for Life

As you can see, I have some work to do. Good thing I have some time off from my day job to around the Holidays to keep thinking . . .

Thank you

Post script:  I actually wrote this November 21 but didn’t post it because I got busy.  Considering a few things that have happened recently--namely, the Sandy Hook shooting and the recent passing of one of the top five most influential people in my life, “Mama Tu Tu,” I felt compelled to reflect and go back to and focus on living a life of thanks --even about the trivial stuff below.  Life is too short.

People never cease to amaze me – in good ways and in bad. Today, for instance, I was parked in a parking lot responding to a text (don’t text and drive, people) and my window was rolled down, as was the gentleman’s who drove past me, grumbling audibly that some “stupid kids” stole his parking spot. But also today I worked registration table at a blood drive. People always respond well to the Red Cross name, but in light of Superstorm Sandy, people are especially responsive and eager to help the cause. People are here telling me their stories about volunteering, many just stop in not planning to spend 45 minutes of their day donating blood, but do it anyway; it is so awesome to see. So much so that it has put me in a very cheerful mood. But it’s not time for cheer just yet (just over a month until Christmas). ‘Tis the season of thanks right now.

I’m thankful for:

• Holiday traditions:  I missed a call from one of my grandma’s this week and even Matt knew enough to joke, “Annual call for you to bring olives to Thanksgiving, huh?”   Yep. Two cans black, one jar green. It has been my job for several years since entering adulthood for every holiday.
• LivingSocial/Groupon/AmazonLocal, etc. : I LOVE these! Perhaps too much. It’s like, one minute I think, “a shellac manicure or new magazine subscription or two-night hotel stay would be nice” and the next minutes, BAM – there it is!  Saving money is fun.
• Twitter:   …Making me feel cooler than I really am since July 2012. Scooter’s Coffee follows me for Heaven’s sake!  Social media is fun, too.

Obviously I’m thankful for the ol’ standbys, too: my health and that of my family and friends, the fact that I have a job that allows me some spending money (which I spent too much of on a recent trip to Mall of America), a house that keeps me safe and warm and all that good stuff. I’m going to try better to not take it all for granted. In fact, I’m going to stop writing and go home to hug my husband right now! Happy Thanksgiving!

Time flies when you're having fun!

One Year Later: We're still awesome!  Matt & I celebrated our one-year anniversary last week. We went out to dinner and exchanged gifts. He got several "paper"-themed gifts (tickets to the Shrek musical, cigars, a reprint of the Omaha World-Herald front page from our wedding day, etc.), since paper is the traditional one-year gift, and I got a Calvin Johnson Detroit Lions jersey - score!  I just really cannot believe it's already been a year. The memories of our wedding night are a blur but I do know the fun we had that day hasn't stopped for a second. In just the past year alone, we've really enjoyed ourselves. I don't know why people say the first year is the hardest. We reminisced at our anniversary dinner at our go-to special occasion joint, Bonefish Grill, and man, got tired just talking it all through!
Since last October, we...

• Went to Negril, Jamaica on our Honeymoon
• Enjoyed an annual trip to Unadilla - this year via party bus to the town's Groundhog Day celebration
• (Matt) went on his usual March Madness / golfing  / boys trip to Phoenix
• Took in the Power & Light district and a Kansas City Royals game this spring
• Traveled to Brekenridge, CO with friends for a weekend of nature and laughs
• (I) went to Milwaukee on a girls trip
• Wore big hats, won money and drank mint juleps at the Kentucky Derby! 
• GOT A DOG
• Participated in a full-scale recreation of a Bert the Conquerer episode, Wife Carry Obstacle Course
• (I) ran a 10k -- oh, and I won a gold medal at the Cornhusker State Games in softball!
• Built a new deck
• Played in approximately 19,000 games each (ok, maybe I'm exaggerating but not by much) between each of our volleyball, golf and baseball/softball leagues
• Toured the Dallas Cowboys stadium (and saw Big Tex just weeks before he burnt down!)
• Wished many of our friends and family the best as they tied the knot themselves
• And tons of other stuff I'm sure, too...

So I wanted to include a small photo montage for your enjoyment. And this comes on the heels of our next adventure--a MN road trip to see a NFL game and shop at IKEA - woo! Cheers to us, to many more years of fun to come, and to all of who have been part of that fun along the way, this year and always!
xo

Peter Parker (ha ha, get it?)

Last Wednesday, I took my dog for a walk and came back with both a newfound sense of trust in him being off leash—and a new “friend.” Here’s what happened:  Approximately one minute into our walk, we see a guy walking his also young, crazy and cute dog, so the dogs stop to sniff each other.  Other dog owners can attest that usually when this happens, we are able to move on quickly, but this guy was different. He first asked, “is your dog friendly?”  I said, “yes.” [Silent pause].  Second thing out of his mouth, “Wow, that’s a nice ring.” Now, yes, it is. But what a weird thing to say. It means you were looking to see if I was married. It also means you were using your dog to pick up chicks at the park – how cliché. Despite knowing that I was in fact married, he went on to say that I was good-looking and asked if I had any sisters or single friends. He said his name was Peter, he was 32, and he just moved here a week ago to go to Law School, etc, etc. We let the dogs run around and play together while we walked behind and chatted for a bit. I told him about cool things on campus because I was an undergrad there and about places to visit in Omaha. He was really upfront in saying he knew he was coming off as weird, but he just didn’t know how to make friends here if he didn’t just blatantly try. So he gave me his phone number and said to text him if me, my husband or friends ever wanted to show him the ropes, take him Cornhusker tailgating, etc.

So, when I found out we needed a guy sub for volleyball this week, I thought of Peter. When I told Matt I might ask the guy I met at the park, I found out is apparently frowned upon in our establishment to get random guys’ phone numbers. But it’s not like that!! I’m trying to be nice and be helpful in him getting to know people.  I know a lot of people!! Is that so wrong?!

Anyway, Peter won’t be subbing at volleyball.

Do things REALLY happen for a reason?

Friday: I arrive in Milwaukee for a friend's bachelorette weekend (Congrats again, Alex if you're reading this). The group of us girl pedal-tavern our way through the downtown streets of the Third Ward getting drinks and cover charges paid for all the while. A pair of guys in particular took a liking to us.I had  to keep reminding one I was married (apparently guys don't have the same instinct girls do to first glance at a girl's left ring finger before approaching). Anyway, SUPER fun night, after which we promptly slept in until almost noon.

Saturday: When homemade breakfast burritos bettered our belly pain, we packed up and went tailgating at Miller Park before the Milwaukee Brewers game. We shotgunned beers until we ran out -- and then traded brats for more beer! It's nothing short of impressive that we were able to even cook brats: One bridesmaid had bought a new grill for the occasion and we packed it with everything else, but all of us girls, Creighton-educated mind you, failed to realize the grill wasn't yet assembled (HA!) Another bridesmaid, and apparently former Kinex junkie, along with the help of the MOH, Mac-Guyvered the thing together (also with the help of some tools from nearby tailgaters) in no time at all! #GirlPower  We made lots of friends at the time and even came away with a foul ball, thanks to our awesome third-row, third-base line seats -- another SUPER fun night!

Sunday: A nice farwell lunch at a local place and then off to the airport for me. The fun ended there. I did successfully make it to my layover stop in Denver, but only to hear that my flight had been delayed three hours. I tweeted my rage to the airline and my so-far weak following.  The delay was bad enough, until two hours later they CANCELED my flight! No explanation!
"Sorry, the reason hasn't been coded in our system." "
No, I'M sorry, but you're going to have to do better than that!"
Other flights through the same airline and others were off to Omaha without a hitch, but no, not mine. Another hour was wasted in the customer service line where I was rebooked on a different carrier's midnight flight to Lincoln. It was supposedly the closest they could get me and I just wanted to be home. Upon arrival at the new airline's gate, they had no record of me or my reservation. Of course not. So back to square one and the original airline who screwed me over. This time, I refused to wait in line and cut everyone to complain about what happened. Now said midnight flight, which was only a decent option at best, was full and not an option anymore anyway. Now supposedly the soonest flight home to Omaha that wasn't full with other rebooked passengers was Tuesday morning (HA!) Surpringly, I remained calm. I also did some side glances for the candid cameras, ending with me shaking my head. Just my luck this happened on the first trip I ever had to fly alone.  Anyway, I guess I asked the right questions because 'all of a sudden' (OR, all along and she was just unhelpful - whichever) a 10 AM flight Monday appeared and I took it. I mean, my only other option was to rent a car and drive the eight hours, which I never really considered. Can you imagine what would've happened to me on an overnight trip down I-80?!

Monday: I get a call first thing in the morning from my boss, on my personal cell, so I knew it was urgent. A sponsor needed ASAP a key piece of paperwork that only I had saved on my computer, which was of course at my house. We went back and forth trying to come up with a temporary fix to please the sponsor or find some other solution but nothing was panning out. When I texted Matt to inform him of the latest, "WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?!" happening, he simply replied: "What can I do?"
Not "sorry babe, that sucks," but "what can I do?" It caused me pause. I have a good one, everyone. He had already rearranged his work day because he had to come get me 45 minutes away in the middle of the day, but the guy also agrees to race home before that to do a search for a file on my work computer and call my boss, whom he has met just once in passing, for me. He may not be a real romantic, but I have to give it to him - he's always there when it matters, however ridiculous the situation - my knight in shining armour! So I was grinning in appreciation when it was my turn to board, but the grin quickly turned into a panicked frown when the attendant said my boarding pass wouldn't actually work and that I was not in their system.  It was 15 minutes from takeoff so I once again cut everyone in the service desk line so someone could fix this for me. And luckily, they did. I made it safely to Lincoln where my hubs and dog were there to greet me. But of course, 20 minutes into the drive home, Matt says, "Why are we going west?" -- that's opposite of home. We end up in Crete, out of our way and I am about 60/40 flattered and annoyed that he was too excited to see me to see any of the road signs!  But I allowed myself no other choice but to focus on the positive.  I wasn't in a hotel room by myself anymore, this nightmare was [almost] over and I seemed to learn some things about myself along the way. So I say again as I've said before, I DO think things happen for a reason. If nothing else, this whole experience gave me some writing materials for the blog - it'd almost been a month since last post! :)

Alternative Lifestyles

We went on a vacation with another couple this weekend to Breckenridge, CO. As part of our ubber-touristy trip, we white-water rafted, rode a gondola to the top of a mountain, hiked and ziplined (is that a word?).  Pretending to be adventurous for a few days sure was fun! 

All the fun prompted Matt to ask the group a question: If we lived only 3 hours away (instead of 8+), do you think we would come all the time?

We took the conversation in a direction that had us all living in side-by-side plots in small town Colorado. We "dreamed" of possible careers for ourselves whenv we moved. Kristie was going to find a teaching job in the district, I was to purchasae the for-sale cupcake shop on Main Street, Matt was going to be a dealer (demand is HIGH out there for stuff to get high it seems) and Ross was going to win the state lottery. Because the entire plan somewhat hinges on one of us in fact winning the lottery to fund our future move, in reality, not going to happen. Not only can we not afford a home on Lake Dillon, but we seemed to learn this weekend that not only are we amazingly sycronized paddlers, but that we also just don't fit in in CO. Actually, us girls were even called "yuppies" by two locals (named Steve & Abram, mind you). They sited our hair and bags as evidence (we had washed and brushed our hair and our bags were not made of hemp, so...I guess??)

Better yuppie than hippie in my book. Or so I thought until I looked up the definition of each on Urbandictionary.com. In a nutshell, "yuppie "= Christian Bale's character from American Psycho and "hippie" = a Phish fan who loves acid -- and everything in general.

A life of love, peace, equality and simplicity. Doesn't sound so bad does it? The more I read about it online, the better it sounded, even to anal-ol' me. So in honor of the fun weekend and the adventurous Coloradan hippie lifestyle , I write this while listening to The Grateful Dead. If only the hippie lifestyle paid a yuppie paycheck....because I like being able to afford vacations to Colorado if I want.

15 ways to stay married for 15 years & then some

The moment I read this article after it went viral a month or so ago, I knew I had to both share it and write about it. It is hands down the best relationship of any kind I have ever received.

Here’s author Lydia Netzer’s 15 Ways to Stay Married for 15 years—and then my own commentary about each one. (You can click here for her full blog post explaining each point).

1. Go to bed mad.

Hahahaha – I was right the first time! 

2. Laugh if you can.

Laughing is my favorite thing to do. Making me laugh during a supposed fight is Matt’s favorite thing to do.  Approximately 99.9% of the time, I am not actually as mad as I am letting on. Having him there to diffuse the situation is always so great.

3. Don't criticize. Ever.
Even non-verbally?? Dang, I guess I should stop “subtly” poking Matt’s belly. Being married has not good for either of our diets. Super bummer coming into swimsuit season!

4. Be the mirror.
Mirror, cheerleader, same thing. Matt has been awfully busy at work for awhile now. His new position has required him to learn a lot of new things and perform in a much more fast-paced environment, so it’s my job as a good wife to tell him he’s awesome, he’s best employee ever, etc, etc. You’d be surprised what I come up with sometimes!

5. Be proud and brag.

Ok, so like, he IS awesome and probably at least among the best employees they’ve got. But also, even with his ever-growing midsection (haha, one last jab), he’s hot. And good at volleyball. Oh, and baseball. Even listening. Really, anything he does. J  He better be out there right now telling everyone how cool and pretty I am!

6. Do your own thing.

Speaking of baseball...that’s Matt’s “thing” – as long as he can, that’s what he’ll drive drive more than hour to twice a week to play. I have my own leagues of softball, too. Our interests are shared but we still have our own time away from each other to be ourselves. It gives us something to talk about for the brief periods of time between sports that we do get to hang out.

7. Have kids.

Next, please.

8. Get really good at sex.

Also skipping this one.  

9. Move.

Does travelling count? Because we have done plenty of that.  In fact, we went to the Kentucky Derby this year! [The fact that I had too many mint juleps and passed out in the infield during the actual Derby race is beside the point].  Back to the point, unless something *CRAZY* happens, we’re not going anywhere in terms of actually moving away.

10. Stop thinking temporarily.
I couldn’t have said anything better than what Lydia did, so enjoy: Marriage is not conditional. It is permanent. Your husband will be with you until you die. That is a given. It sounds obvious, but really making it a given is hard. You tend to think in "ifs" and "thens" even when you've publicly committed to forever. If he does this, I won't tolerate it. If I do this, he'll leave me. If I get fat. If I change jobs. If he says mean things. If he doesn't pay more attention. It's natural, especially in the beginning of your marriage, to keep those doubts in your head. But the sooner you can let go of the idea that marriage is temporary -- and will end if certain awful conditions are met -- the sooner you will let go of all kinds of conflict and stress. Yes, you may find yourself in a horrible situation where it's absolutely necessary to get a divorce. But going into it with divorce in the back of your mind, even in the way way way back of your mind, is going to cause a lot of unnecessary angst. Accept that you're going to stay with him. He's going to stay with you. Inhabit that and figure out how to make THAT work, instead of living with the "what if"s and "in case of's."

11. Do not put yourself in trouble's way.

My ex-boyfriend of five years, from about 10 years ago, recently tried to add me as a friend on Facebook out of the blue. It didn’t even cross my mind to accept because of this very point. If Matt played with social media, I’d expect the same from him.  I don’t want to be in a place to even  be able to touch temptation with a 10-foot pole.

12. Make a husband pact with your friends.

I don’t do much criticizing of the hubs, but ok, friends, if I do – don’t judge him for it. It’s probably me that’s the problem.

13. Bitch to his mother, not yours.

“To,” huh – not “about?”

14. Be loyal.

‘Duh.  

15. Trust the person you married.

100% without a doubt. If any doubt, don’t do it. Call it quits. If you can trust each other, not just in terms of being unfaithful, but simply trust yourself around each other to not say that mean thing you’re thinking, that’s not a good sign. If you’ve got trust, then you’ve got loyalty in the bag, too. Now, I’ve never climbed up and then jumped off a 6-foot ladder with my eyes closed and asked Matt to catch me, but I do still trust the guy.

By no means is this a end-all-be-all of marriage advice, but I found it pretty comprehensive from what I know so far--though I couldn't believe saying "I told you" as often as possible didn't make the cut. In fact,  reading Lydia’s version made me smile and think about things in a different light, and I even made Matt sit through my reading her article aloud, as well as my on the spot live commentary. We had some good laughs and discussion that way. I hope my version allows you the same self-realizations and smiles. If not, go "bitch" to your mother about me then, I guess.

It's a Boy!

It's no secret that I've never wanted kids. That's not to say that I'll never have kids, I've just never felt the urge that every female around me always seemed to have. I think it stems from me not thinking I'd be good enough at raising them. As it turns out, that last part may not be true after all.  Last week, Matt and I adopted a dog! We had been working with a local rescue shelter (check it out: http://www.grrin.org/) for several months now. There are various steps we had to go through to get the dog--phone interview, home visit from the dog's caseworker and then finally a supervised meeting with the dog and his current foster family (not kidding).  They told us at the beginning that we may have to meet many dogs before finding "the one" but we fell in love with the first one we got to meet! He has been a great addition to our little family.

Ok, now that I've said that, I'll say this--he's a handful! Bundle of joy, sure, but also "of energy!" That guy has to be playing constantly, and I am left with the bulk of the work in playing with and taking care of him by default, because I can work from home sometimes and even when not, I get home before Matt does. The disproportionate work load has already given me a small glimpse into what it must be like to be a new mom--covered in drool, cleaning up "accidents," getting on a feeding schedule and new routine in life in general. The silver lining? Throwing the dog's tennis ball to him 1,987 times a day is going to get my biceps in shape in no time! [Note for any parents who may be reading this: yes, I understand an actual child is much more difficult to care for than this dog ever has been or will be].

I guess all I mean by all of this is that while it's only been a week of this new life, I'm adjusting to my new duties easily. And happily I might add.  A comment by the vet at our visit the other day really triggered all of this self-reflection--he said, "you're being very maternal with him." Now, the vet didn't necessarily say it in a tone that implied that the extent of my "maternal, protective" behavior was a good thing, but still. I guess I HAVE had a maternal instinct all along.  And if you ask Matt, it'll be $250 in adoption costs well-spent to give me the confidence and mothering skills for a real, human kid someday!

6-Months

This weekend marked our six month anniversary of being married! I've said it before and I'll say it again--neither of us are romantic people, and normally we'd let something like a six month anniversary, which is not a real milestone, pass us by. (In fact, to this day, we have no idea when we even started dating!) You can imagine my surprise then when I got home Saturday night to a card and a pretty bouquet of flowers. [I also got home that night to Matt passed out on the couch with a beer in his hand, somehow not spilling a single drop. That's more like it, like us]. The flowers were a super sweet gesture, especially considering I didn't remember the occasion and thought they were "just because" blooms at first. I'll skip the middle part of the story about how I completely overanalyzed every word of the card and took offense to it, offending Matt in the process and I'll just say the story ended with hugs and kisses at least.

But I also got something else for my 6-month anniversary--an email from The Knot.

Subject: It's Been 6 Months since your wedding...
Body: ...So we'd like to introduce you to TheBump.com

For those of you unfamiliar (or bad at context clues), The Bump is "The Knot's sister site dedicated to all things baby."  Their email goes on to so very kindly invited me to click on links offering must-have tools for getting pregnant faster and even a 24/7 chat room for other women trying to get pregnant right now . Thank god one of the other options they gave me was to also forward this email to a friend!

If I could stop rolling my eyes or somehow figure out how to reign in my frustration at their inferences about where I should be in relationship, I'd tell you how I really feel about it. Needless to say, Matt didn't get baby news for his present on our 6 months anniversary.  Ok, now I promise to never say "6 month anniversary" again -- or at least until we do actually have a child and that child reaches dating age.

Part 2: NOT going to bed angry

I wrote the "part 1" post about how anything can happen at anytime. Ironically, that was not even 5 hours before the following happened:
I had another long day, leaving work late, and didn't feel like cooking the chicken I had defrosted. So I called Matt and after much discussion/deliberation, we'd finally agreed to hit up Joe's Crab Shack. What we didn't know was that it was "reservations only" that night because it didn't technically open until next week - back to square one. (UGH, why couldn't anything go as planned?!) We had driven separately and were both within walking distance of Cheesecake Factory so that's where we went. About 15 minutes into dinner, a dad at the table next to us grabbed his SCREAMING toddler (but old enough to know better) daughter to take her outside (thank god). Doing so set into effect an interesting set of events. First, the child monster's flailing arms sent a filled-to-the brim water glass flying into the air, giving Matt a little shower all over his face and half of his shirt, before the rest spilled on the floor. It was actually quite the scene. The family apologized profusely and because it was just water and Matt is so darn nice, he assuaged their guilt and just kept saying "it's okay, it's okay." We all moved on..somewhat awkwardly, because that restaurant packs in the tables like sardines; but nonetheless, our appetizer came and we refocused on our own conversation. That family left and then two older guys took their place, very obviously in town on business judging by their bluetooths and accents. My eavesdropping confirmed that fact.  For now, that's neither here nor there. We ate our main course and then the waitress twisted our arms into ordering dessert. After a fairly heated deliberation session to decide on a cheesecake flavor, we ordered what we wanted only to have the waitress come back and tell us they're out of it. Again, what.a.day. But, alas, my luck would soon turn around. We not-so-begrudging have a chocolate chip cookie dough slice brought out to us and the older of the two non-Omahans says, "WHOA, that looks great!" The waitress says, "It's their second choice," which the one guy heard as "piece" and turns to me and says "2 pieces - impressive- my kind of girl," simultaneously giving Matt a thumbs-up.  He takes our forced chuckles as an open invitation to conversation (his friend had to run off to take a phone call and apparently this guy can't stop talking for more 5 minutes). He was actually pretty interesting though..as we scarfed down our cake, he relayed the story about how he met his wife. Nutshell version: they met on a cruise in the Caribbean when he was drunk and told her he had to stop flirting with her because he heard she was only 17 years old (he was 26). In fact, she pulls out her driver's license and was 27. They've now been married 28 years. His version was better, as it included specifics of that's night drinks and gambling and dancing. We made some more small talk, and then corny jokes, about how Matt & I had been married now 6 months and hoped to tell our story to some unsuspecting couple at a restaurant someday; he all but crushed those dreams, as we could tell he found our "we met at sand vball" less than impressive. Anyway, talking to him got me in a better mood, and THEN the waitress comes with the bill and awwkardly says, "why don't you look at?" so I do -- all ZEROS. She says the family who flooded our table area had paid for our whole check. SO NICE, right?!  Really made my day. I forgot about anything and everything I was even halfway upset about. Matt & I said goodbye to our new friend from NY and walked out of there holding hands. In the parking lot, I said, "I'm instutiting a new rule for us at home." Matt promptly unheld my hand-- fair enough. "Let's never go to bed mad at eachother." He said ok and then did one of his adorable halfsmiles indicative of the fact that he thinks what he's about to say is funny, and said, "what about if you're just made at me, am I allowed to fall asleep or no?"  I shurgged, drove home and then we laid on the couch together cathcing up on our shows on DVR, perfect little night after a not-so-perfect day.  Life moves fast, so just enjoying it as I can!

Part 1: Going to bed angry

Three bad things happened to three good friends of mine this week. The tides can just change so quickly on people; It got me all self-reflective and existential.

For instance, Monday night I picked up Matt from the airport after his annual week away boys trip in Phoenix.  Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder because we were having a fun time that night, hanging out, making fun of "X-Tina's" cleavage on The Voice and looking through photos of the pretty golf courses in AZ.  Tuesday was more of the same, only this time our laughs centered around making fun of the "Schmidt"character on New Girl. [Side note: if you aren't watching this show, you should be. If you have watched and don't like it, we're not friends.]

Wednesday, however, was a different story. Matt didn't get home until 11:30 pm from a work function. I knew there would be a dinner, but did not know that would turn into a beer-fueld late night. Normally I'd have been in bed by 10:00 and been none the wiser to what time he may have returned, but on this day, I'd had such a long day at work that I came home and fell asleep on the couch from 5-9 PM so was in fact still bright-eyed and bushy tailed when the garage door opened late night. Even with it being a work thng, I was a little annoyed, though I'll admit I probably came off as A LOT annoyed. Anyway, after very little sleep, I woke up eeling guilty and thinking back to what I said at the beginning of this -- anything can happen and you never expect anything bad to. All things lately considered, why did I let myself go to bed angry?!  All I ever hear people say is that you shouldn't do that. It's easier said than done in my book. Do you all asleep at odds? Where does everyone else stand on this?

A psychic told me I was perfect

For real.  I went to a Psychic Andy party on Saturday. I went in expecting to “talk” with a few loved ones who had passed.  Instead, I came away with even more self-confidence—and some future event predictions that I have to wait to see if come true.

Within a minute of meeting me and after I only revealed my first name, the psychic (hereforth, “he”) was able to tell me that I was a list maker who needed to work on being more flexible, and that I was very intuitive and could be a psychic like, too. Considering I cry every time Rebecca Rosen is featured on The Big Party Morning Show and that I am a few chapters into her book Spirited to see if I ever could in fact ‘learn’ to be medium, he had me hook, line and sinker from there.

Anyway, he went on to also let me in on a few other secrets:

• Not everyone likes me. Again, for real, he said that. Specifically, he said that females are threatened by me and that I’m a person people either love or hate.  Pretty true.
• I am going to be offered the chance to relocate with my job (he didn’t know when nor if it would be with my current work though he sensed it was indeed a sales type job like I ended up telling him I was in).  He said it felt like the job offer was in New York or Florida but that he felt like I didn’t take it.  That sounds like me; I hate change.
• I will have 2 baby boys.  He said if I or my husband wanted girls (which I don’t), that would come with our third child. Time will tell.

We talked about lots of other things in our session time together.  I really thought it was uncanny how much he nailed my personality. Some revelations were indeed general but most things were pretty specific, and I think Psychic Andy is about as “real deal” as a psychic can be, whatever that means to you. 

Most people I told about this reading didn’t really buy in, thinking it was not only out-of-character, but bogus, for me to be so into something so “other-worldly” but in my book, it was $22 well spent.

Especially because he did in fact tell me that I was perfect, just needed to work on rolling with the punches more.  I'm trying -- like today, it's 2:30 and my dinner plans are in limbo. That's progress, people.

Keeping it (Mostly) Classy

I had a blog post all sorts of written about something that happened this weekend.  But then I turned to the internet to help me make a moral decision about whether to post it, and I found this article: Read it, or at least the first few paragraphs so you understand.

It made me feel guilty. That guilt mostly assuaged as soon as I found this article in my “research”, too: http://milsurvival.blogspot.com/

Strength in numbers I guess. And that’s all I have to say about that.

Winning

Here’s a recap of the past week…by the numbers.

2 = Number of enchiladas, and then pieces of carrot cake, I stress-ate on Wednesday. The last week of the month is always high-stress at work.

But then 90 = Minutes of a hot stone couples massage that I got at Massage Heights on Thursday as a late Valentine’s Day present.   [Score Matt +20 brownie points].

On Saturday afternoon, Matt met up with two of his friends. Before leaving, he guaranteed that he would be back in plenty of time to still keep our gym date and work out before meeting other friends for dinner. Well, he showed back at home only 1 hour prior to our dinner reservation time, so 1.5 hours late, just in time to get quite the earful after “ditching” me. I had worked out and showered without him. Didn’t he know that it takes me an hour to hour and a half to get ready?! How on Earth did he think it was possible to work out AND get ready in an hour?! My annoyance seemed to fuel some pretty hard core adrenaline during my workout. It also allowed me some time to rehearse in my head my talking points to Matt to prove he was in the wrong. Then in doing that, I realized this was no big deal to be mad about; I decided this was one battle I wasn’t going to “pick.”  But THEN when Matt did show, my mouth opened and insults ensued anyway. I think at one point I even called him fat (which he isn’t).  I don’t know. As I've said, sometimes I'm pretty ridiculous. After silently getting ready in opposite bathrooms, I said I was sorry. And I was – until I found a can of chew in his pocket during our make up hug. See, he used to chew all the time, but the past few years has reserved it, at my urging, for baseball season only.  When I asked him what he was doing with it, he said, “I just want to. It doesn’t affect you.” As if.  (-10 points for Matt).

The dinner reservations we had were with Matt’s friends who have been married 14 years. It was a surprise date for the wife, who was told to pack a bag and get ready for a fun night. Super cute, right?! They’re great.  And so was Piccolo Pete’s steak where we ate.  After dinner we went to celebrate my sister-in-law’s 25th birthday.  And then we had 4 shots. And then we “sang” like 4 karaoke songs. My apologies to everyone who had to suffer through that.

Then yesterday morning, in the previous night’s hair and makeup, I bought a $5 footlong for breakfast and proceeded to take a three-hour nap. I hadn't felt like that in quite some time, but good as new after that nap. 

Still, I wasn't feeling well enough to cross off most things on my to-do list, but I did manage remind Matt of a few things on his list. For instance, I’ve asked Matt three times so far to call and make an appointment to have our taxes done. I’m putting the line at 5 and taking bets for over/under on how many times I’ll need to nag to get results (or before I break down and call them myself, a la the garage door incident).  [-5 points].

But then today, Matt offered to donate blood to help me out at work (+5 points).

There you have it; the numbers don’t lie – Matt comes out on top.  While I do hate admitting defeat, his blood donation appointment gives me time to catch up on my TV shows tonight. Win, win.

[Looking forward to making it to 14 years of marriage ourselves:)]

'Cool' Coincidences

Last week at this time, my biggest worry was whether or not my crazy-creamy spinach artichoke would win the "Dip-off" at my hubby's work. (Note: Didn't win because Matt forgot to enter us, despite my reminders every day to sign up).

Flash forward to this week and I just got home from a 32-hour round trip road trip to Texas for a funeral. Last week Matt's uncle died. So sad.  In the process of consoling, I realized two things: 1) I'm selfish (irrelevant for today's point, but perhaps a topicc for later) and 2) I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be in life.

Example 1:  We got that new car last month. And now just had to go on a long @$$ car ride. So thankful we had it (and its OnStar & Sirius XM) so we could be comfy and safe.

Example 2: Calvin Coolidge was a clue in one of the crossword puzzles we did on the road. Let me back track and explain. Since before Matt and I had even said the "L" word to each other, we said we wanted a dog. And we wanted to name it Ted. Long story (I'll spare you), but it has to do with Theodore Roosevelt. 
::In an exciting side story, we are getting a dog this week! More to come on that later!)::  We filled some of our pre-crossword puzzle time discussing new dog names because since we're getting a female, didn't think Ted was appropriate. So we google "Ted" Roosevelt's wife's name--turns out he had two:  Alice and Edith -- no thanks. So I asked Matt, "who's another cool president?"  Because he thinks he's funny, he replied, "Calvin Coolidge." (Get it?)  While we didn't like either's wives' names (his was Grace), we did like reading their background stories. (We're lame and enjoy history stuff). Anyway, that convo soon became boring so at the next rest stop, we bought a book of crossword puzzles to pass somee time. Puzzle one, among the first clues, is "Pres. Coolidge's nickname."  "Cal!" we simultaneously exclaimed.  Such a coincidence. Or was it? :)

There are other examples, but the point is this:  maybe sometimes things DO happen for a reason. Both Matt & I are kind of people who often question if what we are doing is the right thing, on the right path. Well, perhaps Matt's uncle's passing is what it took to give us some perspective. Life is too short so maybe we (ok, I) don't have to worry so much. The universe taught us that lesson this weekend. Through all the funeral proceedings, the both of us gained not only a sense of comfort being surrounded by family but also the feeling that everything was going to be alright -- for them, and for us. At least that's what I'm chosing to take out of the situation. We're in the right places, doing the right things, at the right times. So for now, I'm keeping calm and carrying on. (Which I can still say since it's our last night dog-less!)

I love Dateline. Always have, always will.  In fact, that’s how we party animals have been filling most of our Friday nights for the past few months. Nothing makes me/us laugh harder than Keith Morrison’s facial expressions and enunciation patterns during interviews. I don’t care who you are, that’s entertainment right there.

Anyway, last Friday Matt had been out of town for work for a few days so got home that night a little later than usual and all we did was get take out and settled in on the couch together for “The Bathtub Mystery” I believe it was.

Matt, exhausted from his week of training, and stuffed full from La Mesa queso, falls asleep about halfway through this whopper of an episode. I, usually the one who fills the role of falling asleep early, instead, sat straight up for the entire 2 hours, horrified at the story unfolding before me.

Episode cliff notes:  Ryan and Sarah met, became friends then years later realized the other was “the one,” eventually moved in together, got engaged, got married. He loved sports and was the quiet one. She was the loud, social one. Sound familiar?! There were even more coincidences but I’ll spare you the rest of the background. What happens next is all that matters. One random Monday night, Sarah died in the bathtub!! He was downstairs watching TV and she supposedly got bored, decided to take a bath, fell asleep in the bathtub and drowned. It was a suspicious situation (damp hair, dry body when medics arrived, in addition to lots of other circumstantial evidence); some people think Ryan did it (he’s been found guilty in 3 separate trials actually), but other’s don’t. I’ll spare you the rest of the details, but bottomline is that she was lifeless upstairs for awhile while he was downstairs Monday Night Football-ing it up.

I was so scared that night I could NOT sleep!! For the next several nights actually. We even watched a much scarier Dateline episode on Sunday that didn’t really affect me as much, or at all. In fact, I can’t even remember what that one was about. So Sunday night I literally spent the whole night sitting straight up in terror, staring into the shadows and rationalizing scary noises that night. Needless to say, I had some time to think. I realized why I was so hot and bothered: This could’ve happened to me, to us!! Ahhh!!!!

And then it DID start happening. A few days later, we were laying on the couch trying to find something to watch (Tuesdays are a terrible night for TV!) and Matt turns it to X-Men 2. I don’t like movies like that so I tell him “I don’t want to watch this.” I give him a “reasonable” 30 seconds to change the channel to the movie I wanted to watch (No Country for Old Men) and when he doesn’t change the channel, I promptly get up and say, “Ok then, I’ll just do something else I guess.” And “I guess” was said in a tone that implied I didn’t want to be doing something else, ya know?

I went into the kitchen, uploaded a bunch of our wedding pictures to Facebook and then get bored and went to our bathroom upstairs. I figured why not be productive “I guess” – I was in the bathroom wiping away old polish from my nails and applying new. Matt comes up like 1.5 hours later, I’m sure only breaking from the movie because he has to pee, NOT to check to see what I was doing and if I was okay.  

But when he gets to the bathroom, that’s not what he gets to do. Instead, he gets to listen to me tell him about how I could have been dead in the bathtub up here the last 2 hours and he’d be none the wiser because he ignores me all the time! (In reality, I have never taken a bath in the 2+ years we’ve lived there and Matt gives me more attention than I could ever ask for). That night, though, probably due to lack of sleep – I was a little whiney . Ya, let’s go with that.  

I’m literally laughing thinking about it right now. Sometimes I’m SO RIDICULOUS. At the time, though, I sat there saying how he’d probably be found guilty in the trial and we might as well start calling each other Sara and Ryan and blah blah blah. He could have gone a lot of ways in that conversation but he just simply shook his head, smirked and said something to the effect of:  “I think you’re having an overreaction, Sara. (pause for emphasis) I don’t know why you don’t like comic book movies anyway.”

I busted up in laughter. It was indeed an overreaction, I mean, even as I was saying the angry words to him, I could barely keep a straight face but went with it anyway.  I just love that he calls me out on stuff and I’m so glad to have someone around who not only does care where I am at all times, but who always know just the right thing to say.

First Time(s)

You'd think by the time you marry a person, you'd know 'em pretty well. But in just the past week alone, I've learned and experienced A LOT about and with my dear Matt:

1) He can dance.
Wellllll....he does dance. Our first dance and maybe once a drunken-polka with me is about all I've ever seen out of him. Until last weekend visiting a friend in Iowa City. I don't think in four hours that he left the dance floor even once! He found and befriended some cougars after I was too embarassed to continue dancing with him and they just ate him up. He must have commented 800 times when he finally did leave the dance floor, "ya know, I think I made those ladies' night-heck, maybe week. I mean, dancing with me, giving them all that attention, must have been great for them." I guess my confidence is rubbing off on him.

2) He's a tough negotiator.
It's widely known that I'm the decision maker, and usually the vocal, opinionated one between us. Except for on the day we bought our new car two weeks ago. I even joked with the salesman at several different points that there was no way we were leaving with a car today because again, Matt moves very slowly, especially when it comes to a big decision like this would be. But as soon as he saw my "shopping face" and could tell I'd set my little heart on that particular Equniox, a switch flipped and he was all sorts of decisive -- and a little cut-throat. Matt would offer up a price point then the salesman went to go pretend check with this manager about giving us that low of a price, because of course, "they never do that," and I sat there impressed as heck with my man's wheeling and dealing. Between all the back-and-forths, the whole process took five stinking hours, making us late for his work's holiday party, but darnit, we got a pretty good deal! I made a note to self that day:  use Matt's newfound negotiating skills to my advantage more often, as they seemed to be a little more effective than my eyelash-batting as of late.

::  As a total aside to that story, this is the FIRST brand new car for either of us. And we've totally become "those" people, parking far away to avoid door dings, scared to death of putting on mileage, etc. I've even gone as far as to declare the thing a "no eat zone." I'd definitely be a better driver today had I just gotten a new car years ago, that's for sure!  ::

3) His childhood was WAY different than mine.
I say this at least once a week, but this week this is why: we were sitting on the couch after eating dinner and a commercial for some dessert came on, forcing us into believing we needed dessert. We head to the grocery store up the street to see if we can find some individual slices of cake in the bakery (since our tastes vary so much) - no luck. So we wandered over to the frozen dessert section. My eye catches a carton of "Chunky monkey" and I (obviously) light up with desire. Matt, however, is confused. He comments nonchalantly that he's NEVER HAD BEN & JERRY'S!!! Whaaaaaat?!  This is coming on the heels of finding out the previous week that he didn't know what a golden birthday was. You know what I probably did for my golden birthday? Ate Ben & Jerry's!! Told you - different upbringings. Anyway, back at the grocery store, he laments over all the different flavor options and decides on Half-Baked. I recognized the look on his face as he took his first bite - same eyes of desire and recognition of deliciousness as me. All was well in the world again; we weren't so different after all.

It's the little things

Thursdays are Trash Day. Taking out the trash is on Matt’s to do list. He does that, washes dishes, cuts the onions so I don’t cry, shovels show and mows the grass – I do just about everything else.

I will preface what I’m about to say by saying this first:  this week, the trash did get taken out to the curb. BUT – the trash can didn’t get replaced with a trash bag. Not a big deal per se, except for the fact that I have told him before on more than one occasion that this is irritating. Who wants to go throw something away only to realize that you can’t?! This is my equivalent of “leaving the toilet seat up.” I don’t know why it bothers me, but it does and again, Matt knows it does.

So what’s a girl to do when her trash can is left bag-less? Well, I’ll tell you: I assumed Matt never listens to me when I talk and doesn’t care about the things I think are important. When I type it out like that, it seems like quite the giant leap to make, but nonetheless, that was my mental state.  I should mention that this was on a day that I was already irritated…

…Because in another test of my patience, we remodeled one of our spare bedrooms this week. Unfortunately, it did take all week because my man moves at the pace of molasses with stuff like that (it looks GREAT finished, though). Anyway, on Thursday afternoon, I finished work a bit early and went to the garage to paint the last side of the last door. Matt had sternly warned me not to get any white paint on the garage floor (apparently keeping a clean concrete floor is his weird toilet seat-esque anger thing). Despite both his warnings and advice on how not to spill, I spilled. Luckily, I noticed in time. Being a good wife, I panicked as he would have himself and ran inside to get some wet paper towels to wipe it up with. I managed to get it all off the floor before it dried--Crisis adverted. But then, another one popped up. Upon taking the towels with wet paint inside to throw them away, I realized THERE WAS NO TRASH BAG.  We just got a new, fairly fancy trash can as a wedding gift, too, and I imagined Matt wouldn’t be happy if I got white paint on it, either. Quite the predicament, because now, I had closed the door from the kitchen to the garage in anticipation of having clean hands to get back out after successfully throwing away the paint towel and washing my hands. So now I’m mad AND covered in white paint. “I’ll just throw it in the recycling can, who cares if that one gets paint on it,” I thought.  Well, we wouldn’t have to find out. “Luckily”, my dear hubby had forgotten to take out the trash can we use for recycling, so I just piled the paper towels onto that heap for retrieval later (and stored away in my mind the fact that he didn’t take it out for use later also).

All of this happening on the day I finally decide to change my beloved last name to his unpronounceable one. Figures.

Oh – AND that day happened to mark the two-week mark of when I presented him with two quotes from garage door companies so we could replace ours. (And that day was two weeks after I’d asked him to do it before getting fed up and getting bids myself). I told him, also on more than one occasion, how important it was to me that he look and help choose. Too late for that. Once I saw the liner-less trash can, what I did next was call Omaha Garage Door & Window and put down a deposit on a garage door without input or approval from him.

Serves him right….I guess?? No one has ever accused us girls of being logical when angry.

Later than night when Matt got home and settled, I casually handed him “The 5 Love Languages” book that we got also got as a wedding gift and instructed him to read “my” chapter on “Acts of Service.” In his first act of service, he apparently did read it, because sure enough, I woke up to dishes being clean and put away, the recycling taken out to garage and FINALLY, a liner in the trash can [for God’s sake]. The next morning there was also a cold bottle of water in the fridge waiting for me because he knew I’d want one ready for my Crystal Light. It really is the little things.