at least we had donuts

As a follow up to my last post, I will share that I went back to the mall this weekend and bought a few more things for my work wardrobe, including a black skirt.

Actually, two black skirts.

Okay, actually three black skirts.

Apparently I'm trying to create some sort of uniform for myself.

This morning I put on the fanciest of the skirts because I had a new employee starting and I wanted to look like a boss.

Usually I get flowers for new employee's desks, but since this particular employee was a man and I wasn't sure how he'd feel about a vase of daisies, I decided to pick up some donuts instead.

I stopped by Dunkin' Donuts and was about ten minutes into my commute when I glanced down and saw a gigantic rip right in the front of my new skirt.  And then I sat at a red light and contemplated whether or not I could keep a file folder strategically positioned over my right thigh all day without looking like a nut.  In the end I decided that I couldn't, so I went home to change into a pair of pants.  And I considered grabbing an extra outfit to just keep in my trunk in case I ever need spare clothes in the future.

My pants and I made it to the office in record time.  I had to set up the new employee's user account and he needed to add numbers to the end.  He said, "I'll just use my birthday.  July eighth, nineteen NINETY TWO.

Someone born in 1992 is old enough to be a grown up and have a real job.

And I was born in 1988 and am considering keeping a spare outfit in my trunk.

Age is just a number.

Speaking of jobs, Matt works for a huge law firm and his boss told him that he'd have to go to University of Pennsylvania's law school a few days this week to answer any questions new law students might have about technology.  Matt anticipated the question pool to be pretty shallow and was geared up for a week on easy street.  He even considered bringing a few issues of American Hunter in case he had some down time.

And then he walked into the meeting on Monday and one of the firm's top partners said, "Now everyone, make sure to utilize your trial master, Matt."

MATT THE TRIAL MASTER.

It turns out his boss didn't give him the full story, and he was assigned to be working at the firm's trial academy for incoming associates from around the nation.  The first day's mock trial had quite an impact on him and he's now contemplating law school.

He also sent me this text on his way home.

He held true to his promise because when he got home tonight he had a bag with half a dozen donuts in hand.

It was good to start the evening on a high note because after dinner we had to complete my open enrollment insurance information.

Insurance is not my wheelhouse.  For example, when I got my first real job I brought the insurance information home for my dad to look at and said, "I didn't look at it too closely but they have a cafeteria plan! Can you believe it?"  Because I thought a cafeteria plan meant lunch every day.  And that I'd hit the jackpot.

And then my dad broke the news that this is the real world and a cafeteria plan is a type of health insurance plan.  MAJOR BUMMER.

The insurance torch has now been passed to Matt.  I think in our marriage vows we should have said, "I promise to love you in good times and in open enrollment."

In the last few months I had a full eye exam and ordered six months worth of contact lenses.  When I made the appointments Matt asked if I used my vision insurance and I said no, because I didn't get vision insurance last year.

We logged into my benefits accounts tonight and Matt said "Let's check exactly what insurance you had last year so we can compare."

Guess who got vision insurance last year.

Whoops.

HAVE A DONUT MATT, AND REMEMBER HOW HAPPY YOU WERE TWO MINUTES AGO.

Luckily I still have my current insurance through the end of the month, so guess who will be getting a brand new pair of glasses next week?

I'm hoping that my vision will be better than ever.  Maybe it will so clear that I will notice a rip in my skirt before I leave the house.

nowhere to go but up

Well, last week was only a three day week for me, but it was quite a doozy in the work department.  Evidently my mind couldn't even relax at night because I had TWO crazy dreams that I will now share since who doesn't love to hear about other people's dreams?

Oh that's right.

Probably nobody.

But nevertheless, the main characters in dream number one were my brother and sister-in-law, who really and truly are expecting a baby in August.  They're not finding out the gender, but they have names picked out which I won't share because I'm not sure if they want them blasted on the World Wide Web.  But trust me, they're adorable.

In my dream, the baby was born and my entire extended family was at my aunt's house, so the new parents brought the baby over to meet everyone after they left the hospital.

And when they arrived the baby was covered up in pink AND blue blankets because OH THE SUSPENSE IS NEVER ENDING.  When they finally unwrapped the baby, she had a tiny pink bow in her hair and I said to my sister in law, "It's a girl!! Did you end up naming her ______?"

And she said, "No.  We actually named her.....Wendy."

WENDY?

"It wasn't even on our list," she said, "but I heard it the other day and just absolutely fell in love with it."

Luckily a text the next morning confirmed that Wendy is not a contender, so crisis averted.

The next night, I dreamed that I was attending college in Hawaii, and I walked through the student union building one day and saw a large crowd gathered.  Everyone was lined up to catch a flight back to the mainland because a storm was coming, so I bought a plane ticket and hightailed it home to Pennsylvania.

Upon arrival in Philadelphia, I made my way to baggage claim to pick up my suitcase.  But instead of a suitcase waiting for me at baggage claim, there were 47 trays of fresh baked bread with my name on them.

HAD I LANDED IN PENNSYLVANIA OR HEAVEN?

I couldn't fit all of the bread in my rental car, and unfortunately just when I was about to find out how many loaves I could jam in the trunk, I woke up.

After two bad dreams and two bad days, I decided that I needed some new work clothes since I felt like I was looking like a ragamuffin and also still wearing the same pants I got for my first job after college.  The job where I had to deliver morning announcements over the office wide speaker system, and kick them off by playing a little tune on a Fisher Price guitar into the speaker of the phone. #EnglishMajor

The pants were Starlight brand from JCPenney's junior department and while they had served me well for five years, they were beginning to feel, and look, like sweatpants.

So, on Thursday I went to the mall right after work.  I was a woman on a mission.  Three hours later I waved the white flag and accepted that my mission wasn't as productive as I'd hoped it would be.  However, it wasn't a total loss because I did get a nice pair of "Hey I'm 26 now, and I have an office and the authority to sign off on expense reports" pants.

And I put those bad boys on Friday morning with a new blouse that I tucked in because look at me! I'm professional! You can count on me to make a decision of minimal to moderate importance!

And when I went to the restroom at lunch, I discovered this on my pants.

Right there on the waistband.

For all the office to see.

NOT SO PROFESSIONAL.

I should've stuck with the Starlights.

not much beats a weekend at the beach

 

   

  

it was everything i imagined a vacation day would be

Well, today may be Tuesday but it feels like Monday to me.  

I took the day off yesterday because it was May 18th.  A day of utmost significance.  A day that has been marked on our calendar for weeks now. 

It was the release of the new Cheez-It 'Extra Toasty' flavor.

And you better believe I was at the food store at 10:00 am to stock up.  

Now that I write that sentence, it’s sinking in that I made a special trip to the grocery store on my day off just to buy a new snack cracker.  I’m not sure if that’s a high or a low.

A few months ago, as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard Matt say, “OH SHOOT.  I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO DO THAT.”

In case the forgotten task was turning off the oven or renewing the car insurance or something along those lines, I asked in my sleepy state, “Forgot to do what?”

“To write to the Cheez-It manufacturer.  I want to suggest that they put more slightly burned crackers in the boxes because those are my absolute favorite.”

So basically, we have literally lost sleep over the rarity of toasty Cheez-Its.

But evidently the request went from Matt’s lips to the CEO of Kellogg’s ears because we now have two boxes of extra toasty Cheez-Its in our cabinet.  I told myself that we could eat one box this week and save the second for our trip to the beach this weekend, but there is a better chance of me understanding calculus than there is of that second box of Cheez-Its making it to Saturday.

As for the rest of my day off, I woke up at 6:30 because I didn’t want to waste a second of it.  I sat on the balcony and drank my coffee, got all ready for the day, made a phone call to the mortgage man, listened to two podcasts, read six chapters in a new Jodi Picoult book, cleaned the bathroom, ate a tuna sandwich, watered the plants, vacuumed, organized the clothes in my closet by color and category, went to the food store, Sam’s Club, and the post office.

And after all that I looked at the clock to figure out how to spend the last precious moments of my day off and it turns out that it was only 11:37.  

So I decided to go home and grab my camera and a water bottle and take a nice long walk in the woods.  I came upon a horse farm on my walk and wished I’d picked up some carrots while I was at the store for Cheez-Its.

I didn’t listen to music because I was all by myself and I’ve watched enough crime shows to know that I’d want to be able to hear if someone was sneaking up on me so I could make a speedy getaway.  

Without my headphones, my mind wandered and I thought about how when I was little I read a book about a girl who found a tiny abandoned cottage in the woods and she lived there and made an adorable home for herself and even swept the floor with evergreen branches and cut the grass around the cottage with scissors, which sounds quaint in theory but in reality, not so much.  

I also thought about how I wouldn’t mind living in a hidden woodsy cottage now and then, specifically when it is between 65 and 72 degrees, with no precipitation and minimal winds.  However, I have to be careful not to share that with Matt because he would have us packed up and moved out and living underneath an oak tree before you can say “Where do I plug in my straightener?”

And just as I was imagining purple wildflowers lining the path to this imaginary cottage, I saw a large brown creature move out of the corner of my eye.  I stopped, and spotted something walking slowly behind the trees.

And the first thought that entered my mind was, “Oh my gosh.  One of those horses has escaped from the pasture.  I’m going to have to CATCH A HORSE.”

It was as if forty minutes in the woods turned me into some sort of rustic superhero who can catch runaway farm animals with her bare hands.

And then the horse walked into a clearing.  And the horse was a deer.  

Which I should have expected because there are approximately seventy trillion deer in those woods.

After my walk it was still only about 2:30, so I decided to drive around some neighborhoods and look for homes for sale because Matt and I are beginning the process of Buying A House.  And after my day yesterday I think it's best that we move into a civilized neighborhood.

With no wild animals.

And easy access to a grocery store.

i certainly couldn't give it up altogether

When I was a little girl, my dad would empty his suit pockets when he got home from work and leave any change he had in his pockets on my dresser.  After dinner I would count the change, and if I counted correctly I got to keep it.

If I counted incorrectly, I had to donate the money to the poor.

More often than not the money was donated to the poor, because differentiating between a nickel and a quarter and their respective values is evidently a task that I've struggled with since I was six years old.

One of my very favorite things in the world is Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee.  There is a spring promotion going on at the DD stores around here and iced coffee is just 99 cents plus tax.   That brings the total to $1.05 and you better believe that I have been taking full advantage of that sale.

Matt and I collect our change to use for special treats, and since iced coffee definitely counts as a special treat, each morning I grab $1.05 from our coin jar and get my coffee.

One day last week, I rummaged through the change jar for my coffee money and grabbed two quarters and a nickel.

For those of you playing along at home, that is only fifty five cents.

I drove up the street to DD and marched inside with my three coins because I was feeling so confident and superior because HELLO, I COME BEARING EXACT CHANGE.  And my superior attitude and  I placed an order for "iced caramel coffee with skim milk, sugar, and extra ice please."

"That will be one oh five," said the woman behind the counter.

I handed over my three coins and waited while she looked at them and flipped them over and over in her hand a few times.  And then she slowly looked up at me and said, "One dollar and five cents.  This?  Only fifty five cents."

And I have no reasonable explanation for why I reacted the way that I did.  I can only imagine it came from a place of deep embarrassment.

But here is what I did.

I pretended that I did not understand English.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

It must have slipped my mind that just seconds earlier I'd ordered an iced caramel coffee with skim milk, sugar, and extra ice please which is a very particular order for SOMEONE WHO ALLEGEDLY DOES NOT SPEAK ENGLISH.

I made a few gestures with my hands and pointed to the parking lot like a crazy person.  And then I made the walk of shame to my car to scrounge up two more quarters because I'd been so confident in my coin counting that I'd left my wallet in the car.

And to top things off, as I made my shameful exit, the wind caught the door and it flew into the glass window of the store next door, so I looked like a crazy person who knows just enough English to make a very specific coffee order and has an anger problem.

I returned with two more quarters and a red face and sheepishly handed the coins to the lady behind the counter.

Once I had that iced coffee in my hands I literally ran out of the store.

Never to return again.

Because that iced coffee may only be $1.05.

But my pride is worth more than that.

And by "more than that" I mean driving a quarter mile further to the next DD.

we also found a deer skeleton, but there are no pictures of that

Matt and I went geocaching for the first time on Saturday, and we found one!

Well, we didn't actually set out with the intention of finding a geocache.  It was more of a happy accident.  As we were walking along the trail Matt pointed at something off in the brush and said, "Hey what do you think that is?" and I said, "Looks to me like a piece of PVC pipe someone just littered" as I marched onward because I was ALL BUSINESS about our walk.

But Matt hiked in to investigate further and it turns out that it was a geocache with a notebook and pen and some little trinkets inside.  We walked for two more hours, and while we didn't find any other geocaches, we did find some beautiful scenery!

north, south, east, and west, spin the wheel and hope for the best

Last night Matt and I each made a bowl of chocolate peanut butter ice cream and settled in for an episode of Brain Games.

I believe the words you're looking for are WILD AND CRAZY.

The episode theme was "Battle of the Sexes," and obviously I knew the ladies had this one in the bag but I humored Matt and agreed to play along with the scenarios.

First topic up was spacial reasoning.

Welp, Laura Darling, OUT.

The scenario was, "Which set of directions makes more sense to you? Drive north on main street for two miles.  Head west on Pine Street, and then drive southeast on Maple Street.  You will reach your destination in two thirds of a mile."  

OR "Drive out of the parking lot and turn left.  At the grocery store, make a right.  Stay on that road for three stoplights, and then make a right at the bank.  Your destination will be on the left, just past the pizza place."

NOW YOU'RE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE.

Spatial reasoning has never been my wheelhouse.  However, I believe I come by it honestly because when my mom is using a map, she turns it so it's in the direction that she's going.  And a few years ago my family was driving down to visit my aunt in Virginia, and my Mommom mentioned that whenever she's driving downhill, she feels like she's going south, and when she is driving uphill she feels like she is going north.

And I knew what she meant because I automatically assume that whatever direction I am driving is is north.  South is behind me, east is to my right, and west to my left.

In fact, as I was writing this post in my head while driving, I came to an intersection with this sign.

And to me, that just does not make sense.  If I am turning left, I am turning west.

I scheduled a meeting with coworkers this week and I sent an email out with directions to the office and the most convenient parking garage.  People were driving in from all over, but in my mind I assumed that they were all coming via the exact route I take.  And so I said, "When you're on 69th Street, turn left onto Chestnut Street (just past the Foot Locker) and the parking lot will be on the left."

And a (male) coworker emailed me back and said, "Assuming we're driving which direction on 69th Street?"

I DON'T KNOW.  THAT'S WHY THERE'S GOOGLE MAPS.

AND COMPASSES.

My sub par spatial reasoning skillz do not stop with driving.  When I was in college, I had a terrible ear infection and called home for medical advice and a healthy dose of sympathy.  I talked to my mom, and I presumed that she was in the living room.  When she asked me which ear hurt, I said, "Well, I guess it depends which couch you're sitting on."

Yes, because that would make a difference.

So all that to say Matt won spatial reasoning.

The second section was all about following directions and Matt and I are both Big Time Rule Followers.  If there is a rule, we follow it.  But I edged him out in the scenarios, so the game was tied up.

The third and final section was about memory.  I hate to brag but I am a memory WHIZ.  I remember everything, so it came as no surprise that I won each and every memory quiz and then gloated about how girls are the best and my fantastic memory put me over the edge.

Notably, there was no section on humility.

And then, because today is Thrifty Thursday, Matt decided to set up automatic payments for my student loan.  I prefer to go to the student loan website and pay my loan manually each month, because then I know it was done, and done correctly.  I don't trust automatic payments for the same reason I don't trust the check deposit app on my phone, and still prefer to take my checks to the bank and hand them to the teller like it's 2003.

Anyway, it turns out you get a discount for automatic payments so I agreed that we should give it a go because somebody's gotta put the thrifty in Thrifty Thursday.  And when I got out of the shower this morning I had a text from Matt that said, "What's your six digit pin for your student loan?"

"I don't use a pin," I said, "I just log in with my username and password."

"You should have an account pin too though.  It's six digits.  You probably picked it when you filled out your FAFSA form."

As a lady I hate to give away my age, but let's just say that FAFSA form was filled out NINE YEARS AGO.

MEMORY, DON'T FAIL ME NOW.

It failed me.  I had no idea what my pin was so I had to call and reset it.

Pride comes before the fall.

I'm holding out hope that maybe someone will ask me for directions this week, and I will have the opportunity to redeem myself.

i feel like i'm being watched

There are days when I have no idea what to write about.

And then there are days when inspiration literally lands on my doorstep.

Let me provide some background.

Matt is an Amazon fanatic.  Over the past year, I cannot even count the number of Amazon boxes that have been delivered to our house, and they've been filled with everything from khaki pants to Planter's Peanuts to water filters to engine gaskets to a case of organic white chocolate bars, even though we don't really eat organic white chocolate bars.

I was working from home one day a few weeks ago when I heard a knock on the door, and I opened it to find a delivery man holding an ENORMOUS Amazon box.  It was addressed to Matt, but I texted him to ask if he'd mind if I opened it, because is there anything better than opening a package?  I think not.  However, in the event that Matt had ordered a present for me, I didn't want to ruin his surprise.

It was not a present for me, so major bummer there.

But Matt told me to knock myself out and go ahead and open it, and when I opened the box that giant, plastic, freaky looking hawk was staring out at me.

And I almost had a heart attack.

WHERE'S A CASE OF ORGANIC WHITE CHOCOLATE BARS WHEN YOU NEED ONE?

The woman in the apartment below us has a lot of bird feeders on her balcony, which means that the birds sit on our balcony railing, and leave behind...well...what it is that birds leave behind.

It's not pleasant.

And they're not dainty, pretty, little birds.  They're enormous, gross pigeons that Matt calls rats with wings.

So this giant plastic bird creature was Matt's first move in a strategy to keep the pigeon-rats off of our balcony.  When he got home from work that night I told him very dramatically that, "THIS THING HAS TO GO OUTSIDE IMMEDIATELY.  IT CANNOT LIVE IN OUR APARTMENT.  IT DOES NOT MATCH THE DECOR AT ALL AND IT FREAKS ME OUT.  THOSE EYES FOLLOW ME."

Matt said he'd get a few bungee cords to fasten it to the railing and get it outside right away.  But not before he played a trick on me because the next morning I stumbled into the bathroom and flipped the light switch and this is what I saw.

I almost had a heart attack.

Mr. Hawk was in his new home on our balcony railing by that evening.

Except, instead of deterring the pigeons, he attracted them.  Like they were all old buddies.  Sitting on the railing.  Chatting about the snow and their wives and the stock market.

Needless to say, this camaraderie drove Matt crazy.  Now that the weather is (very, very, VERY slowly) warming up and we plan to spend lots of time on the balcony, Matt decided that today would be the day he'd throw down the decoy gauntlet.  While I washed the dishes, he went out on the balcony to fix things once and for all.  And he came back inside a few minutes later and triumphantly proclaimed, "He's like a real bird now! I rigged it so it looks like he's flying.  No pigeons will be coming to this balcony!"

"Woohoo!" I said, "that's awesome,"  and I continued on with the dishes. 

And then I finished the dishes and walked out of the kitchen and saw this.

AND I ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK.

That was not the solution that I expected.  And then Matt then taped tin foil all around the railing to deter the pigeons even more and I CANNOT EVEN TALK ABOUT THAT.

I had grand plans for the balcony this summer.  Some colorful Adirondack chairs and plenty of flowers and a nice citronella candle and maybe even some wind chimes.

And now I'll be working around our freaky hanging hawk and tin foil railing.

But at least there won't be any pigeons.

And that is, literally, a silver lining.

i hope this post doesn't embarrass my parents

I woke up on the first Saturday morning of spring and saw this out my window.  I just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.  Come on, spring, get a move on.



I cheered up a little bit and then Matt asked if I'd like to go to the mall with him because he found himself in the market for some sunglasses.  I never turn down a trip to the mall, so off we went.  We wandered through Macy's and Matt said, "I wonder if I could get some cologne while we're here.  I've been thinking of getting some.  A nice musk."

Well, I couldn't have been more shocked if I'd see an elephant.

We got to the sunglasses and I immediately remembered that Matt has issues with sunglasses.  And those issues run deep.

Here's how I buy sunglasses.  I walk up to the $3.00 rack in Wal Mart and pick the pair with the most rhinestones.

Here's how Matt buys sunglasses.  He identifies a pair and then proceeds through a checklist that includes but is not limited to the following specifications:  They can't be too tight.  The arms have to be thin because he doesn't want to lose any peripheral vision.  They must have a very dark tint.  No aviators.  The nose pads must be comfortable, but not too thick so his nose doesn't get sweaty.  The tops of the glasses cannot touch his eyebrows.

He is like the Goldilocks of sunglasses.

After about fifteen pairs failed his test, I said, "Matt, what is it that you are envisioning?"

"Well," he said, "I basically just want to look tricked out."

Tricked out and smelling like musk.  He is full of surprises.

We left the mall an hour later without sunglasses or musk cologne and while the sunglasses search will continue, I think we may have dodged a bullet with the musk.

On Saturday evening we went out with friends, and I threw caution to the wind and had a giant iced coffee at 5:00 p.m.  So when we got home, sleep was the last thing on my mind and I decided to clean instead.

Matt turned on some music, specifically patriotic instrumental bagpipe music.  It's a long story, but basically thanks to St. Patrick's Day he is on a bagpipes kick.  

After a while we decided to take a little bagpipes break, and when I turned on the Eagles Pandora station, this song came on.  

My parents love Steely Dan, and growing up I bet I heard this song five hundred times.  I sang my little heart out and then pulled up my Pandora app so I could give the song a thumbs up, when much to my surprise I saw the title was "Reelin' in the Years."

I always thought it was "Reelin' in the East."

As in- I don't know what they're doing over in the west, but we're reeling here in the east.

You learn something new every day.  And on Saturday I learned I should verify song lyrics before I belt them out with confidence.  Who knows what else I'm singing incorrectly. 

Maybe Matt's onto something with the bagpipe music.

well, i won't be cooking lentils again

My sister was home for spring break this week, so I took a few days off work and we did all the important things like going to the mall and out to lunch and Sonic and Michael's Arts and Crafts.

Twice.

It was back to reality today and I will admit, it was not my favorite Thursday.  Not only did I have to return to work after five glorious days of freedom, but I also cooked lentil curry soup for dinner.

As it turns out, I don't like lentils.

Or curry.

And most especially, I don't like the two of them combined in a soup.

All I have to say is thank goodness for that bag of chicken nuggets hiding in the back of the freezer.

It was my first foray into Indian food after quite a hiatus.  The last time I ate Indian food was sophomore year of college, when I went to an Indian restaurant with some friends and our waitress dropped an entire plate of tikka masala on me and my brand new cream colored sweater.

It was a bad night.

After my lentil curry disaster, I headed out for a walk around our apartment complex because HELLO, FORTY NINE DEGREES AND A 7:05 SUNSET.

This morning, Matt mentioned having a Thrifty Thursday meeting after dinner tonight.

Yes, that is a thing.  Matt coined the term "Thrifty Thursdays" a few months back and he likes to rendezvous each Thursday evening to discuss savings and stocks and insurance and budgets and make sure that we're both on the same page.

And I like to discuss the chances of me being able to to go into early retirement.  And by early, I mean sometime in the next 6-12 months.

Spoiler alert: it's not looking good.

Matt didn't mention our Thrifty Thursday meeting after work so I was secretly hoping he'd forgotten since I don't know how many times I can use the story that there was a sale I couldn't possibly pass up at Target/Macy's/Ikea/the nail salon before we have a needs vs. wants conversation.

However, when I returned from my walk, Matt said, "THANK GOODNESS YOU'RE BACK.  I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT OUR THRIFTY THURSDAY MEETING."

He called the meeting to order (actually he didn't, but how funny would that be?) and 1.5 hours later I took it upon myself as co-president to adjourn the meeting.

I was experiencing information overload.

But speaking of thrifty, I bought a shelf at the thrift store last weekend for $2.00.  I got some paint at one of our many trips to Michael's this week, and for a novice painter I think the transformation was pretty impressive.

 (Emily helped.)

As far thriftiness goes, I think I have the arts and crafts department down.

Cuisine?  Not so much.

There are some areas of the budget where you should splurge.

And dinner is one of them.

i suppose you could make a writing/paper connection

Well, it’s officially been one year since Matt and I tied the knot.

We’ve come a long way in the last twelve months.  For example, I am now comfortable referring to Matt as “my husband.”  A year ago those words felt strange coming out of my mouth, which is why when I went to the doctor a few weeks after returning from our honeymoon and she asked me if anyone close to me was also sick, I said, “Well, no, not my…household member.”

Yes.  Because that’s so much less awkward than saying husband.

On Saturday morning we woke up bright and early to take Matt’s car to the mechanic for an inspection.  It was ready a few hours later, so we went back to the garage to pick it up.  I stopped at my parents’ on my way home to pick up the top layer of our wedding cake, and when I got back to the apartment Matt still wasn't home.

How mysterious.

He walked in a few minutes later with two sandwiches from Heavenly Ham, and M&M luggage tags.

Because of course.

We had 7:00 dinner reservations, so we got all dressed up and then utilized the self-timer feature on the phone that I have just discovered because apparently, I am behind the times.

We were eating dinner at a Brazilian steakhouse.  I’d never been before, but Matt had been to a similar restaurant in the city for a work function and knew the ropes.  The first course was buffet style, and Matt cautioned me to save plenty of room for the meat that is served at the table, but a girl can’t resist potatoes and rice and sauteed mushrooms and tortellini.

In a moment of bravery I also put a quail egg on my plate which was a decision I’d come to regret.

If I never eat a quail egg again, it will be too soon. 

We went back to our table, and turned our cards to green, signifying the waiters walking around with gigantic meat skewers (I wish there was a more eloquent way to describe them) that we were ready for them.  There were 21 types of meat and over the course of the next few hours I bet we tried at least 15 of them.  After filet mignon and sirloin and bacon wrapped chicken and parmesan pork and salmon and leg of lamb I turned my card over from green to red because I’d eaten so much I could hardly breathe.

Matt kept his card turned to green, but gave himself periodic pep talks all revolving around the same theme of “pace yourself Matt, just slow down and enjoy.”

When Matt finally turned his card to red, we talked about how delicious everything was and how we’d absolutely, positively never been fuller in our entire lives than we were at that moment.

And then our waiter came back and asked if we needed anything and Matt promptly requested another round of drinks and the dessert menu.

I've never loved him more.

When we got home, we decided to keep the celebration going and exchange presents.  Matt told me that my present was so big he had to keep it in the downstairs storage unit, so while he carried it up I waited in the bedroom absolutely convinced I was going to walk into the living room and see a reclining chair.

I have no explanation.

I don’t even want a reclining chair.

As it turns out, it was a desk.  

Specifically, a "premium writing desk" so that I can be a premium writer.

I have been talking about getting a desk since we got married.  We didn't really have room in our first place, and since we moved here I have gone desk shopping about twelve times but haven’t purchased anything.

However, that doesn't stop me from frequently proclaiming "I WISH I HAD A DESK.  I JUST LOVE A DESK.  MY LIFE IS NOT COMPLETE WITHOUT A DESK."

A few weeks ago I told Matt that the traditional first year gift was paper.  And he said, “Well, okay, but do I look like a traditional type of guy to you?”

I am so glad Matt broke the tradition.  

Here's to year two.

at least if i get lost in may, it will be warm outside

On Wednesday I had to go to a meeting in Center City, Philadelphia.

I considered taking the train, and even looked at the train schedule and consulted Matt about the location of the train station, the meeting, and the complexity of the navigation in between the two.

In the end, I decided to drive because I figured that at least if/when I got lost I’d be sitting in my warm car instead of wandering around in the cold, windy air.

I am all about comfort.

However, I was still a bit of a nervous wreck because if there is one thing I hate, it’s driving in the city. 

I prefer driving in the suburbs. 

With light to moderate traffic.

And no adverse weather conditions.

The meeting was at 1:00, and just 18 miles from my office.  Naturally, I left at 11:15, automatically factoring in an extra hour or so for the lovely combo of traffic and mistakes.   

Much to my delight, I made it to the city and parked in a Philadelphia Parking Authority garage with no trouble at all.  The meeting went even better than expected, and I walked out of that office building feeling like I was on top of the world.  

Unfortunately, things took a turn about ten minutes later when I realized the parking garage was undergoing major construction and the lanes were all mixed up.  I pulled out of my spot and promptly misinterpreted the lane to which the “EXIT” sign was pointing, and wound up driving the wrong way in a one way parking garage.

People were honking at me.  And flashing their lights.  And I just wanted to scream “I KNOW.  I REALIZE THAT I AM DRIVING THE WRONG DIRECTION.”

Eventually, and I do meant EVENTUALLY, I turned myself around.  It took a little while and a lot of maneuvering because the parking spaces were slanted so that they were aimed at people driving the correct way. 

I was never more thankful for my tiny Ford Focus and my sweet steering wheel agility.

Last night I got an email about the next meeting.

It’s scheduled for May, so I guess I better buy my train ticket.

(P.S. The meeting was in the same building as this one was a few years ago.  I am happy to report that I did not have any trouble with the elevators this time around.) 

if i saw a penguin on the african savannah, i'd say more than oh my gosh

When Michelle and I we were roommates, we watched the show Shark Tank on a regular basis while lying around on the couch and going on and on about inventions that could have caused us to strike gold if only we'd pursued them and/or had an original idea that wasn't already in existence.

Like Michelle's idea for the iPod.

And the plot line for the TV show 24.

And the automatic card shuffler.

Basically, if it weren't for Steve Jobs, the Fox television network, and casinos, Michelle could be retired and a living a life of leisure by now.

Our favorite shark was Robert Herjavec, because of his blue eyes and wisdom and way of being kind but honest with contestants.  He also had a way with words, and our absolute favorite line was, "Don't mistake my kindness for weakness."  To this day, it's one of our favorite phrases.  We can find a way to humorously work it into any situation and text it to each other at least once a week.

Well, I am watching the Grammy's and during their duet, Rihanna and Kanye West just sang, "All of my kindness, is taken for weakness."

All I have to say is that clearly Michelle and I know genius when we hear it.

Also, hope you copyrighted that phrase, Bob.

On a Grammy related note, Sam Smith has just made his way to the stage to accept his fourth award of the evening and this is the first I'm hearing of him.  I've never felt more out of touch.

Perhaps that has a little something to do with the fact that I strictly listen to Pandora, and my stations consist of the following:

Those stations pretty much sum me up, from Dan Fogelberg to Disney classics.

Matt and I babysat our friends' little boy, Leo, this weekend, and last night at about 6:30 we were suffering from a case of "there's still HOW LONG until bedtime?" So Matt told Leo he'd turn on the happy song so he could dance.

Naturally, I was expecting "If You're Happy and You Know It" because, HELLO, OUT OF TOUCH, but Matt turned on Pharrell Williams' "Happy" since it's 2015 and evidently, he's in tune with pop culture.

And it was a crowd pleaser.

So much so that after about twelve times I suggested we give something else a try and Matt turned on a medley of the top ten Disney songs of all times.

That was also a crowd pleaser, if by crowd, you mean me and Matt.  Leo had zero interest.  But the two of us we paid close attention to that countdown and when number one came on the screen, we were both so thrilled that it was Circle of Life from The Lion King that we broke into song.

Since the first thirty seconds or so are sung in an African language, I usually just do my best to mimic the words as best I can until we can get to the English part.  And as I did that last night, I looked over at Matt on the couch, chanting with all the seriousness in the world,

"Oh my gosh, a penguin and a llama."
"Oh my gosh, a penguin and a llama."
"Oh my gosh, a penguin and a llama."

Because for his whole life, that's what he thought they were singing.  And we laughed until I could hardly catch my breath and all day today Matt would look at me and sing "Oh my gosh, a penguin and a llama," and it would crack me up all over again.

So maybe I'm not as out of touch as I thought.

And if I am, I'm in good company.