Thankful Time

Scott and I have been married for two months today! What a neat Thanksgiving and what an opportunity to be thankful for our love and friendship and everything that comes along with that.

We're hosting his parents and grandparents for the second year in a row for Thanksgiving dinner and that reminds me that I am also thankful for Scott's family (now MY family, too) and their support throughout our relationship. It's comforting to know that while my family is so far away, we still have loved ones who would do anything to help us.

Our dining room table is all set downstairs and the kitchen awaits cramped spaces and delicious smells this afternoon. I'm thankful for our home as well. We work hard to keep it cozy and lovely and I think it shows. We love to entertain in it and both look forward to coming home whenever we leave.

Normally at 10:20 a.m. on a Thursday, I'd be hunched over my computer typing a story or on the phone with an interview. I'm extremely grateful that I have a day off. (You have no idea!) However, I love my job and am grateful for the opportunity to tell people's stories. I've written several "good-news" stories lately, which helps the morale a bit, too.

My inbox features e-mails from friends and loved ones; my recent calls on the caller ID includes several of their names, too. I'm incredibly lucky to have so many people who make every bit -- and sometimes more -- of an effort that I do to maintain our closeness through distance and long weeks and months between our visits.

There are a million more gratitudes I say silently to myself every day, and those I especially remember on Thanksgiving.

It's not just football games (though I will be watching) and turkey (though I will be gorging myself on the bird)... it's gratitude, thanks and love. And I have all of that today.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

My mother-in-law is a genius!

(Never thought you'd see/hear those words, huh??)

Well, let's just say that for the first time in MONTHS, I managed to make it through an entire book. I enjoyed it so much that I couldn't put it down and read it in less than 12 hours!

It was a bit of fantasy, lots of romance, a good amount of suspense, likeable, relatable characters and an on-the-edge-of-your-seat plot.

The authors?
Scott's mother and aunt, sisters who have written a trilogy together, mostly over the phone and through e-mail, over the years and who have self-published their first book!

(I even got an autographed copy!)

Making up for lost blog time

I've been terrible at posting for the past week or so.

I've been busy with work, busy with trying to finish these *$%^(! thank-you cards from my wedding 7 weeks ago, putting my house back together after a long renovation process is (semi-) completed, continuing training for the domestic abuse/sexual abuse shelter and hotline all the while being a tremendous housewife, friend and overall sane person.

So let's catch up, via our friend the bulleted list.

* My trip back to SU with Kacey was fantastic! A sign across the main street in the quaint little town read, "Welcome Home." I don't know why that is my first image that I think of when I reminisce about that trip. Maybe because it never was home.
Maybe because my "home" is with the people I love the most. Kacey is most definitely one of those people, so having her next to me when I read that sign was pretty significant.


* I have a love-hate relationship with the large maple tree in our backyard.
It is so beautiful three-fourths of the year -- providing shade to our hilly empty lot and part of our tennis court and looking so beautiful with its yellow, and then red leaves in the Autumn. Just before it dumps all of its leaves in one fell swoop.
For us to pick up.
It took us FIVE hours on Saturday to rake, and we aren't even done!!!


* I'm going to see the ROCKETTES (!) at a nearby venue this Saturday with my dear friend Emily and I'm so excited!
I went to see the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall in NYC when I was younger and I don't think my eyes stopped bugging out for days. It's just one of those special Christmas-season-is-here moments that I treasure.

*Speaking of Christmas, according to the Rockettes' Web site, there are 38 days, 5 hours and 36 minutes as I write this until Christmas Day!
And yes, I'm ready.
In fact, I may have downloaded SEVERAL ALBUMS of holiday music on my iTunes account today. Ella Fitzgerald is currently serenading me with Away in a Manger and I'm loving every second of it.

*Also speaking of Christmas, I may not be able to spend the holidays with my family after all this year because of my work schedule. ::Insert massively disappointed sigh here:: I know Scott and his family will make it a special holiday -- after all, it's our first Christmas as a married couple! -- but, it's still a real disappointment.

I'm looking forward to:
- The Rockettes !
- Holding Thanksgiving dinner here at our house for Scott's parents and grandparents
- Meeting Ashley's sweet boyfriend the weekend after Turkey Day
- Cuddling up by the fireplace with my handsome hubby in our living room as the temperatures drop (ahem, um, if winter weather should decide to come back or anything... it'sbeen in the 50s and 60s!)
- Getting back in touch with family and friends
... and much, much more :-)


Gotta go -- write some more thank-you cards of course! -- have a good week!!!

Happy Halloween

Hope your day was deliciously spooky.


What are your favorite Halloween memories or traditions?




Boo-st wishes! :-)

Whiny Wendy

Let me say this:

I am excited to gain a new, bright, AWESOME office through Scott's ongoing renovation project.
I am, however, sick of paint fumes and my MIA husband.

I love my job, I really do. I feel that I am getting better and better at it, especially recently.
I have, however, sold my soul to the paper. And I'd like it back.

I am thankful for all of the wonderful presents we received for our wedding.
But people should know my gratitude is immense. I shouldn't have to write the same message over and over 120 times. And NO(!) I have NOT finished our thank-you cards, despite losing my husband to drywall. I sold my soul, remember?

I am so grateful for friends. I have reconnected with old (not as in age), special ones (bridesmaids, this is you). I have gained fantastic new ones (Emily, Jess). Gotten closer to semi-old ones (Ashley, you're totally in this category!).
Part of me, suddenly, feels like I have this huge disconnect with them now. I don't know what to talk about now that I can't blab about wedding dresses, stepmother's toasts and slideshow catastrophes. We're a married couple renovating our house. And we have nothing to share right now. We're boring. Dull. Tired. Secretive.

I'm actually focused, for the first time ever perhaps, not on the future and definitely not on the past. I'm all present, man. But I think too much. I'm running around in circles and at the top point of that cycle is always a funk.

And seriously, feeling sick for an entire week with NO relief or change of symptoms?! How can a person have no sniffles and no fever and just be blah, achy, tired, tired and TIRED?! What medicine do you take for tired? I'm getting LOTS of sleep -- and I've even napped a time or two. But I feel like crap. My leg randomly went pins-and-needles last night while walking through Lowes (to get items for the renovation project, of course -- for the third time!)... first my ankle, then my shin. It was up to my knee area in the car and when I sat on the couch, it shot up to my crotch. Awesomeness. It was gone this morning, but now I'm just back to the old symptoms -- times about 12 on the horrible scale.

Sorry for Whiny Wendy.
I'll try to bring someone else to the next post. This chick isn't welcome.


** Special thank-you to Jeannine and Ashley for your e-mails today. They were the glorious sunbeams of my cloudy-brain day. I love you both.

This must be married life.

While Scott was doing this....





























I was making this...

Time for the Day Off song

A day off! A day off! A day off!

We all know by now that a day off song means working a weekend, though. So let's take a minute and ponder all of the things Wendy could be doing if she wasn't spending 8 hours google-ing in a cold office 45 minutes away from home until she's so tired she can barely make the drive across back roads and deer-passing zones. Sigh.

OK.

Now let's think happy thoughts and focus on the positive.

There is the lack of an alarm this morning that I thoroughly enjoyed.
And the freedom to facebook stalk for a few minutes -- during normal work hours!

If I get my rear end in gear... like, by stopping things like blogging, silly girl... I will get ready (and by 'get ready' I mean put on jeans and a comfy shirt/jacket and *maybe* do my hair in a way that resembles a style).

Then I am meeting with my mom-in-law for some lunch and chatting. Well, she'll likely do most of the chatting. I'll enjoy the local cafe's huge sandwiches and good soup.

Then I am continuing the process of changing my name. My goal today is the bank and Social Security.

I hope to get home in time to make Scott a loaf of homemade bread to enjoy this evening.

And then? I'm really not sure.

At some point this weekend I am meeting up with my friend Emily while I'm in 'the big city,' so it will be really nice to catch up with her.
I might see my friend Ashley, who just returned from a trip to Florida to see a special guy. I miss my friends! Darned wedding preparations and thank-you cards!

My goal today is to not really do a heck of a lot. I feel like I've been semi-sick for the past few days and despite getting LOTS of sleep last night, I am still exhausted. I don't like being lazy very often, but maybe I need it today.
But I guarantee my day off on Monday will be even lazier.

My only plans for Monday are to meet up (for the first time, which is so weird!) with Jessica (and maybe her hubby) for some good Mexican and catching up in person officially. I'm really looking forward to it! We worked with each other back when I first started at this paper, but it wasn't until the lovely couple was ACROSS AN OCEAN in Germany that we started e-mailing and reading each other's blogs. They are back in the states and, after just celebrating their 5th wedding anniversary, are ready to be friends with a crazy girl like me. :-)

Time to go enjoy...
A DAY OFF!
A DAY OFF!
A DAY OFF! WHOOOOO! (I think it could even be a good drinking song.)

A post that won't make any sense.

Seriously, did you read the title?
And you're still going through with this?

I really mean it when I say it won't make any sense to you.

Let me preface it with saying that I / we am/are just fine. I'm quite happy... but in a funk.
Some random notes I've jotted down over the past few days...

- Keeping secrets that should be fun aren't any fun because keeping isn't as fun as sharing.

- I hate hypotheticals, maybes, possiblys and wait-and-sees.

- When you're in a bad situation, it's hard to see the good. So why, when all is good, is it SO dang easy to find the negative?

- I think the name-changing is giving me an identity crisis.
Does my last name start with "M" or "Z"? I have no idea. You may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?

- I love all of the phone calls and e-mails with friends recently. 

- My lunch today with Ms. A was awesome. I'm so glad we're friends. And I'm really happy for all her upcoming plans and hopes. She seems to be in such a good place. I just hope she doesn't move for a while.

- Ah! This is my first funk as a married woman. I hate it.

- Speaking of marriage, I am so in love with my photos from the amazing Teri.  I can't wait to deck out every wall in our house with obnoxious pictures of myself (oh, and Scott) in gaudy Lenox frames (thanks, registry!)

- Scott is my absolute best friend and soulmate.
I love how good we've been to each other. In simple, lovely ways.

- Why did we decide to renovate our entire upstairs within two weeks of returning from our honeymoon???

- I should be sleeping.
But I have no plans for tomorrow (besides thank-you notes) so I can sleep in for as long as I want. And somehow that gives me the ability to NOT go to sleep at normal-people times and instead write a bunch of lines that don't actually make sense.

- I wrote this post in hopes that I would instantly feel better. I told myself that if I got de-funked, I wouldn't even post it.

Guess what?...
I'm publishing.

(Thanks for reading this nonsense. I'll write some actual things that make sense very soon, I promise.)

Helping.

Another oops-crazy-week-prevented-blogging moment.

My volunteer training for the domestic violence/sexual abuse shelter started Thursday night.

It didn't beat around the bush. The executive director promised long hours (75 for training, then 5 in the shelter practicum!), disturbing sights and hard-to-swallow facts and advice (the women that go back to an abusive partner or the child who shows signs of violence).

But it gave me hope. Hope for helping. Hope for making a difference.

I know that if I make it through these three hours a week now through December, I will become a part of something that gives me more pride than anything else I might do with my life.

I can help. I can heal.
With my hands; with a reassuring voice; with the tools I'll be learning.

I feel suddenly full of more strength than I knew possible. And I know that strength isn't for me, but for a complete stranger at the other end of the phone or standing at the door of a shelter in the middle of the night.

Life is funny sometimes.

Gloria Gaynor and I will do good things for survivors

First let's begin with the Day Off song...
I have a day off, a day off, a day offfffffff....!

(For working Labor Day -- you know, the day that celebrates America's workers? Riiiiight.)

I've screened every single phone call today and I refuse to look at my work e-mail. Those are big accomplishments, because I usually spend way too much of my "off" time still working. Not today, now way, uh-uh.

I have some wedding things to do today -- busting butts of people who STILL HAVEN'T RSVP'd, for instance. Our deadline was today and there's honestly like a dozen people who are MIA. And that's AFTER my stepmother and aunt and Scott' mom made rounds of phone calls earlier this week. People have some nerve.

Anyway. After I finish preliminary seating chart nonsense and watch some mindless television, I'm going to do something tonight that I'm really proud, excited and nervous about.

My training to be a volunteer with the local domestic abuse/violence shelter and hotline begins tonight. There are 3 hours of training every Thursday now through Dec. 10, so it's pretty intense, but I think it will be well worth it.

I'm not even sure yet what I'll be doing -- answering phone calls, helping with court case witnesses/victims, helping at the shelter, etc -- but I know that whatever it is will make a difference.

My bleeding heart is one reason for doing this, but I also feel that you really can never help your fellow man (or woman) enough. I see so much ugliness through work -- fatal accidents, premature deaths, fights, drama and scandals -- that it's nice to know that there are people, usually behind-the-scenes with no headlines to ever share of their work -- who make a huge difference, even if it's only to one person out there.

I'm also doing this for my mom.
My biological father was phsyically abusive to my mother for years. He hit her when she was pregnant with me and made her feel trapped and unable to get out of the relationship. The things I remember watching from my crib hurt to recall.

But the one good thing that eventually came out of it all (aside from my mom leaving and meeting my REAL dad, the guy who will walk me down the aisle) is her finding a shelter that really made a difference. I've found numerous letters from her to family members talking of the friendships she had made and the impact they had on her life and her outlook on life.

So I leave you with positive thoughts and one of mom's favorite songs. It gave her strength, family members say. And she could never hear it without groovin' in the middle of whatever room she was in, big smile on her face.




*Please continue to keep Julie in your thoughts -- no news yet...*

Shoot for the moon... even if you miss it you will land among the stars

In high school, our cross country team used to have locker buddies that would decorate (secretly) a teammate's locker, giving them energy drinks and snacks, hanging up streamers and inspirational quotes. Ask anyone who ran in blizzards and hurricanes in Mount Olive, NJ between 1998 and 2002 and they'll tell you that that quote was always plastered on my locker... and in my locker buddy's locker, too.

I believe in it. Especially now.

I want to run again.

Some of you have just smiled.
Some of my friends have a hand to their mouth or let out a little "whoa."
I bet one of you is nodding with a tear in your eye.
I hope someone's cheering.


Scott and I stopped briefly at a Dick's Sporting Goods store today and I found myself holding a pair of mesh shorts and wanting to dart into a jog right in the parking lot.

I've been thinking about it a lot lately, but my running comes with a lot of baggage. I thought I gave it up for good about two years ago, when in the middle of training for a marathon, my body just shut down.

My friend Ashley gives me hope as she trains for a race later this month after a long and successful weight-loss program. I'm so proud of her and it is in part her stories of her training that have gotten me drooling for my pasttime of 10 years.

My friend Kacey recently decided to go back to running, too, and I'm so happy for her. She and I got each other through college cross country. Well, she got me through it with her shared secrets and disappointments and all those crazy times in the training room.


This gives me inspiration. And hope. If she can do it, I can do it.
And I don't need to win any championships or even run 50 miles a week again. Really, I just want to hear my sneakers, tied in the special way that I've been doing for half of my life, with just the right amount of support and cushion for my old achy legs, beating against the pavement, through the fall puddles and across the crunchy winter snow.

I want to be lost with my deepest thoughts -- or no thoughts at all -- as I beg my legs to pull me up the next hill.

I want to fight with the voice inside my head that tells me I'm tired and to just turn around and walk home.

I want to be back to the memories of middle school, high school and college, making friends, pushing myself and feeling fit and happy. That feeling of accomplishment turning off the IPod or glancing at my stopwatch.



I don't want to get lost on the unimportant things... calories, sit-ups and just-one-more-mile's.

I don't want to go back there.

I don't want running to equal a sickness and lose all of the things I love about it.

I don't want to be sick.



I'm scared that it's just too late. And that too much damage has been done.

I'm scared that it will be like the last time I went for a run. I made it about a mile, pushing through the aches in my ankles, the stabbing pain in my hips, the burning in my chest. Then, I felt as though my entire body had exploded and then just gone lifeless. I was next to a cornfield, alone on a back country road, unable to lift my arm, let alone make it home. I sat sobbin on the gravel, wondering how I had gotten here and what happened to the 15-year-old with a dream as big as The Bowl in Holmdel for the state cross country championships.

I've come a long way in the past couple of years. It's been a tough road and it's not done yet, but I am eating healthy -- and more -- and I'm taking care of myself for possibly the first time in my life. Well, OK, definitely the first time in my life.

And I've already told myself that I can't push myself in any way. That it has to be fun and the moment it stops being enjoyable, I stop lacing up those sneakers and settle for my tennis and Pilates again.

I tell myself that I can do this. That running got me through the toughest times in my life and that it's as much a part of me as my friends and my family some days.

I tell myself that I'll be more upset if I don't just try.

The great Steve Prefontaine once said:

“Life’s battles don't always go to the strongest or fastest man, But sooner or later the man who wins is the fellow who thinks he can.”

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

I had as many doubts as anyone else. Standing on the starting line, we're all cowards.
-- Alberto Salazar

Holy September, Batman!!!

I feel like I need a bunch of 60's-era thought bubbles with words like "Ka-pow!" and "Sha-zam!" to describe the CRAZY feelings I felt when turning my calendars (I have six in my office alone) to the month of September (!). I mean, wait, where did this year go???

And did I mention I'm getting married in like 24 days???

::insert action-packed thought bubble here::

I keep telling myself that I am relatively stress-free. I hope my close friends and especially my fiance would agree.

I keep hoping that my gigantic bruises on my legs stop getting darker and begin to disappear. St. Lucia just doesn't want to see that.

I gleefully postponed getting my registration re-newed (it's not due until October, no worries) because I'M GOING TO HAVE A NEW LAST NAME BEFORE THEN.

I had my make-up trial run the other day by the fabulous Ruby (one of our groomsman's girlfriends and one of my newest friends.) She did a great job (although it took me a while to realize the make-up has to be more than my usual powder and mascara, hehehe) and I love how honest she is about my translucent skin, bad eyebrows and possible mustache. Sigh, whatever, I can take it.

I go for my hair trial run tomorrow. I can't wait! That's going to make it very, very real (again).

The best little thought bubble of recent days?
I'm falling more and more in love with Scott. I can't wait until he's my husband. :-)

*** Yesterday, my first major migraine in YEARS decided to drop in and visit. I was basically bedridden in a dark, quiet place last night and this morning but am doing better today... although I still feel it.
I used to get migraines ALL the time, especially in my college years. They usually crept in slowly, which made this sudden appearance strange to me. My 'best' ones last at least a few days. My worst one lasted three weeks. Oy!
Scott attempted to 'kill' the squeaky in Izzie's brand new dog toy ( a football for the new sports season of course) this morning after I almost threw the dog and her toy out our second-story window as my head tried to explode.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

Happy September. :-)

Wendy vs. Wall vs. Greyhound

Wendy came in third place.


It's hard to tell in the picture, but that's my right upper calf/shin area. The two bruises combined take up about 3 inches by 5 inches. You could actually frame my miserable trophy of defeat and put it on your mantle.


It is a dark, dark brownish-greyish color. It's great timing for the short and skirt weather we've been having here. Sigh.


According to the internet, 'major' bruises last an average of about 2.5 weeks.
Great, because my wedding and honeymoon are in less than 4 weeks.

Thanks, dog.
Thanks, wall.

A day off!

I am enjoying a day off -- the first one in a long time that doesn't involve traveling or entertaining (well at least most of the day doesn't include those things).

I took Rocky the cat to the vet today for two shots in his bottom. Aside from his meowing song the entire half hour trip, it went very well.

I came home and chatted with our one neighbor who has been away for a couple of weeks.

I decided to use what little motivation I had in me to trim some bushes, tidy up my pathetic veggie garden, cut and hang some lavender and finish cleaning the house.

Then I went into relax mode, courtesy of America's Next Top Model repeats.

I'm going to make some cookies and then go get my hair trimmed and re-highlighted so it looks lovely in all of Teri's photos next month.

This evening, we will host our pastors at our house for some wedding ceremony plan making and to test our love apparently.

I really needed these couple of hours to just veg out. Work has been a little hectic and some stories really wore me down more than I wanted to admit. I'm glad I hung in there and I'm really proud of the reporter I've become.

With that said, thank the LORD for days off. :-)

Let the world change you

I promise I won't be turning this blog into a series of movie reviews. We've just been enjoying a few days of downtime with nothing but us and our handy-dandy DVD player (and our dusty DVDs).

'Gemela', this one's for you.

Let the world change you and you can change the world...

...So says the 2004 spanish-language film The Motorcycle Diaries. The movie follows the guy who would soon be known worldwide as 'Che' and his friend Alberto Granado on a journey across South America, years before Che would become a famous revolutionary rubbing shoulders with Fidel Castro.

That part is fascinating in its own right, but the part that draws me are the places and people along the continent that they see on their journey.

I saw this movie one year before I took my own South American journey -- one that changed my own life in so many ways... bringing me one of my best friends and a lot of smack-you-in-the-face life lessons.

I long for mi argentina; I miss the home that I only knew for a couple of months. It is a part of me I can never leave. I can't even explain why or how it managed to have such an impact on me, but I'm simply grateful it did.




Wandering around our America has changed me more than I thought. I am not me any more. At least I'm not the same me I was.




This isn’t a tale of heroics, nor is it merely some kind of ‘cynical account’; it isn’t meant to be, at least. It’s a chunk of two lives running parallel for a while, with common aspirations and similar dreams.

A literal and figurative crossroads

On my way to the city office after covering an event this afternoon, I wound up at an intersection I passed through countless times about three years ago.

I had just started a fling with a guy named Scott after pulling myself out of the deep dark depths of a horrific relationship that took such a toll on my mind and soul. I thought this Scott guy was pretty groovy, but heck, it was only the first couple of weeks and I was so afraid my heart would break again. I trusted, however, and it is leading me to a marriage with my soulmate in one month.

It was scary, though.

Turning left at this intersection near the final third of my 90-minute trip to Scott's house from a miserable apartment in a town and job that sucked the life out of me way more than the 40 hours I got paid a week, there was always this insane moment of apprehension and giddy excitement all at once.

'Where am I going?' I would ask myself at the next sharp turn.
I knew what direction my car was going, but definitely had no idea where my life was taking me or would take me in as little as three years.

Despite the fatal crashes, devastating house fires, suicides and increased property taxes I've dealt with at work, I love my job. I'm so lucky to do something that could impact peoples' lives in some way.

Although the stress is starting to mount, I am almost as in love with my wedding as I am with the handsome groom-to-be. I know all these silly details might get lost in the excitement of the day, but I'm sure they'll make a bigger picture that is just us to a T.

I mean, guess what?!
I'm getting MARRIED!

I'm at such a good spot in my life.
Yet, sitting, half-frozen at that intersection today, I could have crawled into a little ball in my SUV. I know that a puddle of tears could have accumulated so quickly if I let it. But I didn't.

I snapped out of the trance, looked to my right -- that old me, that old life -- and turned left, smiling at the sound of the turn signal and the images flying by in my rearview mirror.

I think I've taken the right paths so far, even though they may not have been the shortest trails or the easiest routes. They made me a better navigator in this crazy road of life.

And I'm all out of cheesy driving analogies.

I'm too busy for a normal blog life right now.

And I don't have kids and am not even married yet. This ought to go downhill quickly.

Anyway, I am alive -- and well, for the most part, despite allowing some half-bitch crazy woman into my soul for a few days. Scott is glad that said bitch is on at least a one-month vacation (more likely three for me.)

I digress.

Wedding plans are going well. We are joyfully collecting our RSVPs and especially enjoying the comments some of our loved ones are putting on them.
Example 1: My friend Drew writes "Mr. Drew Lastname, CPA" in honor of his newly-established title.
Example 2: Scott's friend Ryan draws an arrow to the "Mr.", writing "That stands for Master" on a corner of the card.

The bridesmaid dresses have arrived! I totally confiscated three of them for delivery at Super Secret Wedding Weekend coming up in two weeks. I can't fit into any of the three I have (darn you, you thin gorgeous model-like bridesmaids!) but that doesn't stop me from using every possible opportunity to go into our guest room and just look/drool at/on them.

Flowers, centerpieces and favors are all decided on. Phew. Such little details take SO much brainpower.

In other news, Scott and I have been taking time to enjoy our home and each other by having game nights (It had been so long since we did any activity other than sleep that we forgot how much fun playing a 9 years and older game could be.)

Our tennis court is almost at completion. After months of staring at thick ivy and then piles of ivy, wood, and other debris, I can finally peer out of my office window and see concrete. It's amazing. We just need some lines painted, some dirt pressure-washed the heck out of this yard and our net to arrive before I start beating Scott with my cute little tennis outfits I purchased on a splurge last summer when I wasn't preparing for marriage, family or a FUTURE.

Animals are good. I would say more, but all of their cuteness is totally negated by knocking over and then eating bathroom trash and using our hardwood floors as a bathroom because we are outside dealing with aforementioned three-foot deep ivy.

Work is work.
I have nothing to say there. Nothing I can, at least. :-) I've been really busy and I love my job and am proud of the work I'm doing. I guess that's all I could hope for, really.

We have a fun and busy weekend coming up.
Tonight, Scott has a play-off softball game for the church league here. He loves his baseball/softball and I'm glad he can go and get that manly time. I'll probably sit at home with a glass of wine, reading on the front porch or something else that is equally exciting for a lady such as myself.

Tomorrow, co-worker Kelly is going to take engagement photos of us! She just started a photography career on the side and she's willing to risk that career by snapping photos of two stressed and over-tired individuals who have to remind each other that they love each other and that despite the fact that being engaged can suck, they should probably have photographic proof that they survived through it. I am looking forward to it. She has a great eye and I'm just so excited that she's excited!

Then, on Saturday, Scott and I, as well as a couple of his friends, are heading out to Pittsburgh to enjoy another friend's picnic as well as hotel complete with in-room whirlpool tub. I really am excited for the picnic, but did you see that part where there's a whirlpool in our room??? Relaxation, my friends, is the key to survival in this crazy life.

Well, Scott's on his way to work and I'm on my way to my two-hour morning nap.

It's not too late for an annulment from Beavis.

I was never a Beavis and Butthead fan, so I had to have this bit of a frightening scene explained to me.

Scott comes home from work, walks up the stairs. I peek up from my computer and see him, standing with his shirt pulled up over his head, holding a newly-purchased package of toilet paper.

Scott: I am the great Cornholio. I have TP for my bunghole.

I wish I could say it all makes sense now, but at least this helped.

Some signs you're getting old

No. 121: You refer to friends in their early 20s as "the kids."

No. 48: Anything past midnight, er 10 p.m. is "way past your bedtime."

No. 437: It's 2:30 a.m. and you're on the crapper because of those delicious hot wings you ate 7 hours ago. (Courtesy of Scott)

No. 19: You now plan your weekend around mowing the lawn and consider weed-whacking your anger management strategy.

No. 284: Comparing aches and pains is your version of war stories and battle scars.

No. 23: The walk of shame now consists of a shuffling trip to the medicine cabinet. In your flannel PJs and worn-out slippers, not your black heels and cute jeans.


We are really having an 'old moment.'
Now where is my cane???

Dis and Dat

So, to try to play "catch-up," here's a bit of random thoughts and pook-like pondering...

* Our greyhound has totally come out of his shell since the breed get-together last month. He's more sociable, friendly and seemingly happy.

*I am obsessed with and traumatized by Michael Jackson's passing. I've always been a fan -- I mean, who hasn't? Plus, it doesn't help that I grew up watching my older sister dance to Billie Jean and Thriller and tell my dad she was going to marry MJ when she grew up. Dad was not pleased, to say the least.
I've asked one of my bridesmaids to try to do a group dance of Thriller. Surprisingly/scary enough, she AGREED. I'm not sure the rest of the bridal party would go for doing that at the reception, but boy wouldn't it be fun!?

* We've gotten our first group of RSVPs back! The first ones arrived FIVE DAYS after we sent out invites -- crazy! Some random stats from those:
Scott is totally winning as far as whose side is replying sooner. I think I'll catch up soon, though.
Most couples choose the same meal option, which I find interesting. I thought for sure most guys would choose the beef tenderloin and most ladies would pick the stuffed chicken breast. What do I know?!
We have two vegetarians already!

* On other wedding news, the bridesmaid dresses have arrived at the dress shop nearby. I can't wait to see them! I'm hoping to make it there in the next week or so with my local bridesmaid (you know, the one I made get fitted for a dress when she was six months pregnant!!) Their arrival just absolutely threw my excitement level over the edge.

* Our friends Josh and Staci are engaged! Wahooo! Congrats to them! I've known Josh since my previous newspaper job, and quite honestly, I don't know if I would have survived as long as I did without our coffee runs and inside jokes.

* My stepmother and my niece (and junior bridesmaid) are coming out for a four-day visit in August. I could scream and cry all at once.
"No, I don't think we'll have any wedding things to do by then.... No, really, they should all be done."
"No, you can't wear high heels and fake nails. You're 9 years old, remember... What? No, no hair jewels."

* My maid of honor called yesterday to tell me what to pack for the mysterious bridal shower/bachelorette party weekend later this month. I got a pen and paper out, thinking she was going to offer helpful specifics, since everything is a complete surprise. I was told to pack casual things, dressy things, night and day stuff. Gee, thanks, gemela. ;-)
(I am BEYOND excited for that weekend! Less than four weeks!)

TGIF!
Happy 4th of July!