Burning Love

                As we all know, Valentine’s Day was last week.  Did you have a good one?  What did you do?  I need ideas for next year, and the year after.
             
               Personally, I’m a fan of any day Boyfriend feels obligated to bring me flowers.  He’s always been good about celebrating this girly day with me and this year was no exception.  Forgoing crowded restaurants over the weekend and definitely on Tuesday he suggested doing crab legs at home.  I’m pretty sure there is no better meal than king crab legs.

                What I didn’t know was king crab legs cost $27/lb to buy them.  So I’m standing in the store, staring at the price tag and considering what kind of effort it is going to require, on my part, to eat these particular crab legs.  Now after Christmas we went to Shimshacks per a Christmas gift certificate from Boyfriend’s mom and got their Viking platter of seafood for like $75. (Marilyn Monroe and Joe D ate there.  It's charming in it's own, teal colored way.) On this platter we got a pound of crab, hot AND cracked for us, four lobster tails, and shrimp scampi.  Plus it included two salads and two appetizers that were also sea food. 

                Instead, we decided to grab two lobster tails and two bacon wrapped filets, at a more ideal price point.  Boyfriend mans the seafood, my job is to cook everything else.  That’s how it’s always been, that may not be how it remains. 

                I had never done steaks, and especially a bacon wrapped filets, in the house. Ever.  Obv while the lobster tails defrosted I Googled what I was supposed to do.  I’m not one to take a single website at it’s first word so I cross checked the recommendations against three or four websites.  It said, heat pan with oil and sear each side of the filet for three minutes before finishing in the oven.  On it.

                I watch a lot of Food Network.   These shows have taught me to never put fish or meat in a cold pan.  Cold pans = sticking.  I know this. 

                Boyfriend threw the lobster in to heat up.  And I had the filets out to warm to room temperature.  I turned my pan on to medium high.  Waited a minute, added my oil to fill the bottom of the pan, dropped in my filet to sear it and got two feet of flames.   Literally.  Twenty-four inches.  Licking up around the microwave that is the hood of my stove.  Boyfriend grabbed the pan so now we’re both standing in the middle of the kitchen, him holding fire, me trying to decide if it’s going to go down on its own or how to get to the baking soda, which is on the other side of the flames, in the pantry.

   

                After about 30 seconds we’ve figured out that grease fires do not, in fact, go out on their own and I would have to get the baking soda.  I ducked around the flames, grabbed the baking soda and threw it over his shoulder putting out the fire.  I consider myself a hero.  Boyfriend does not agree. But somehow, I managed to not completely cover the filet in baking soda when I doused the fire and since I’m a good girlfriend and choose to eat the less fortunate steak always, my stomach votes hero.  I should give him credit though, for not just throwing out my dinner.

                After further review, I learned that butter is the better choice for steak searing purposes.  And then my BFF told me, one week late, I am supposed to put the oil in a COLD pan and let them heat up together.  Welldoesn’tthatjustmakeawholellotofsense.  Thanks a lot internet for not being specific on A.) the amount of oil to be used. B.) when to add said oil. Also, news to me, apparently you need a minuscule amount of oil.

                So.  Now I know.

                I chose not to sear his filet and just toss that little guy in the oven.  He chose to give me a side-eye and judge me every 30 seconds for the next two days.  I also suggested we choose not to light the candles on our dining room table for the romantic dinner.  I do, however, say yes to Federal Meats for providing me with melt-in-your-mouth dinner even for those who are not particularly talented in preparing them.

                I may have deserved the side-eye - our house smelled of bonfire for the next two whole days.

Salvageable?  I say yes.  He says no.  Please vote.

                

               Also - he was way cute and super thoughtful and got me some new jams.  Apparently I tend to “look like a homeless person for sleeping.”  I’m certain I don’t know why that would be a problem, but I’ll take some cute jams as an acceptable alternative.

                But, it was kind of my idea.  I may or may not have asked for these a month ago as a joke.  He said my idea needed some modification.  He might be right.  He also said that he would not buy me those for Valentine's Day because “you would look like Ralphie from A Christmas Story".  Sooo...are you saying that's not sexy?  Maybe I can get some hoodie-footies next time. 

 Cross your fingers.

                

Serendipity

                I don’t know about you but I…took the long way around when it comes to love. Where I come from it’s a land of high school sweethearts and quick weddings right out of high school.  You can ask anyone who knew me from my prior life, that this girl has never quite fit that mold.  And that’s not to say I didn’t try.  I have a high school yearbook with statements like “invite me to your wedding.”  Wait. What?

                I went away to college.  Learned who I was, separate and independent of everyone and everything.  Then I graduated, and stated working and “dating” Mr. Big himself.  No seriously, HBO people came to Western NY, creeped in his window and went back and scripted that Sex and the City character.  I walked away from that a bruised spirit with a jaded impression of love and perhaps even life.

                I was a young, 23 year old, new job, new apartment, looking to make sense of where she’s at. And in one of those seemingly, serendipitous moments that can have no explanation other than providence, I meet Him.   He’d dodged this application training for over a year, I’d just started the new job and needed to learn the tools.  All the people I knew got there before me, and no one saved me a seat.  I grabbed the first empty, next to some guy.  He’d seen my name, I’d heard his cursed in staff meetings as notoriously unresponsive.  And in a moment of innocence, perhaps with intention to flirt I clicked on MLB.com.   With an instantaneous whisper from the seat next to me confirming I was checking in on the New York Yankees, I knew I had his attention. 

Answering a question moments later on the internal Instant Message system, he commented how he’d never used it.  Parting ways after the training session he mentioned he was too busy being awesome (editor’s note: he didn’t say that, but we all know that was what he meant.) to come to the follow up session the next day.  Ok then, see ya never.  I get back to my desk and immediately get an Instant Message from the Yankee’s fan, who had never used the IM before(?), half asking me out for drinks.  The rest, as they say, is history.

Fast forward two and a half years.  As I sat in our kitchen this week, sewing a hole in his shirt, after cooking him dinner, cleaning up, and following up on his request for me to switch over his laundry, I had one of those cartoon-esque moments.  My world came to a screeching halt.  What. The. Crap? and. How. Did. I. Get. Here?!  I’m staring at everything I never knew I wanted.  I’m cooking(?)  I’m resentfully emptying the dishwasher.  I’m volunteering to replace the seam in a shirt so he doesn’t look like a homeless person in real life. I’m planning meals, grocery shopping and accommodating his need to eat pop-tarts for breakfast at 33 years old.  We’re arguing about future pets.  We’re laughing about our day.  I sit here in a moment of realization. 

He hates that I wait two weeks, till I run out of undies to do my laundry.  I hate that he panics when there are only four towels left in the drawer.  He hates that I wait upwards of two (on a good trend) months to put said freshly cleaned laundry in its proper place.  I hate that he won’t hang the things I buy on the walls for months and months on end.

            I've grown up since 23.  We’ve grown up since I was 23.  We’ve experienced loss. And if nothing grows you more as a team, it’s a recognition of your own morality.  We’ve experienced joy.  New successes, friends, family, weddings, a niece that we could not love more – who is so fun to Skype with.  And if nothing brings you a little perspective it’s a long weekend away from each other to take a minute to remember what it is that you love.  

I learned, recently, thankfulness is the root of all joy.  I’ve done my best to implement in my daily life, right down to coming home to him with a smile, because well, I’m so very grateful for him.  He makes me laugh.  He drives me crazy.  We don’t often agree, but we don’t often argue.  Opposites attract after all, and we’re living proof. 

I do wish Christmas, his birthday, and Valentine’s Day were not so close together.  It really leaves me scrambling come V-day.  I mean who wants a front-loaded gift giving sitch? Seriously, February 14^th is like my last gift giving obligation until next Christmas.  But I am thankful for him.  And don’t worry he usually ends up with like an Easter gift or a Labor day present – because I love giving presents.  Also, just because I love him.

Source: google.ca via Penny on Pinterest

A Stream of Consciousness

                Apparently everyone’s coherency is questionable, as of late.  I managed not to remember half the things I needed to do before I flew out of town this weekend.  And my sister managed to wear one brown boot and one black boot to work yesterday.  So, for me, that’s just about everyone and clearly we’re all losing it.

                Of course she has an excuse or three, getting engaged at Christmas may have something to do with it.  Or the fact that she’s moving.  Or her two year old, who seems to have a bit of a crush on my boyfriend, probably requires a bit of attention.  Me?  I don’t really have any excuses.

                Classes started this week – I was completely and entirely unprepared.  Left my laptop at home that day and I didn’t even have a notebook to write on.  I did want to try that new InkJoy pen I keep seeing commercials about anyway – but the drug store I went to did not have it available.  I’m still in the market if anyone knows where I can find one.  I am no longer looking for a notebook though – since they had plenty to choose from.

                I found out on Monday that the 9AM flight that I had thought I booked home for Monday was not an AM anything and most certainly a PM flight and now I’ll be getting home around midnight – so Boyfriend was super happy about that little development.  Yay extra day with my BFF though.

                I was forced to eat all my food with a spoon at work this week because I forgot to pack a fork every day except for one.  Thankfully I have had a box of plastic spoons in my desk for oatmeal eating purposes and also for yogurt.  I hate eating things with forks aside from the aforementioned items.  And also ice cream and cereal, obv. 

                I got to the airport today.  Purel-less.  This is a tragedy.  I only wash my hands like nine gazillion times a day when soap and water is available. Purel is a temporary substitute until I can find some soap.  But I was late leaving work, and I left it in my car and I think that will be the first thing I buy when I arrive in Atlanta. 

                Speaking of late leaving work – once again Boyfriend not exactly super pumped having to wait in the parking lot for, I believe he said twelve minutes, before I could run out the door.  When it comes to airports and arriving early, this is one place he’s more anxious than me.  Apparently even when he’s not the one doing the flying.

                Boyfriend’s birthday is coming up.  He hates his birthday.  I love to celebrate his birthday.  The same is true when my birthday rolls around.  Not that I hate it, I’m just generally indifferent.  But I’m between the golden age of 21 and haven’t gotten to the numbers that start with 3’s yet…so it’s all just the same to me.  But back to his birthday.  I get all “do you want to have a birthday party Honey?!”  

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not 12.”

“Fine.”

                

               But there is nothing the man likes more than getting presents.  Lucky for him, there is little I enjoy more, than giving presents.  And I think I nailed it this year. (I hope.)  But considering that he thinks the box that came from Amazon was for him when, in fact, it’s my deodorant – if I let him open that he whatever his real gift is will seem far superior. 

                I also need some serious inspiration on the gym front.  Apparently running one half marathon in your life does not equal skinny for forever.  Which I find to me mildly disappointing and also problematic as I cannot con myself into going to the gym lately.  If anyone has and secrets or bribes.  Let’s hear em.

                I guess that’s all I’ve got going on in my head right this second.  Well I have lots of wedding ideas for Sister and I don’t know how any of you married people pulled of a wedding without Pinterest because really I’m not creative enough to put anything together without help.  Speaking of Pinterest, I’ve become much more selective of who I follow back as the general population gets involved here.  So much irresponsible pinning going on right now.  I miss the days when it was just me and like seven of my friends, pinning a few recipes and outfits and quotes.  Good times.  I also miss the days when Facebook didn’t throw all of my 2007 life in my face and be all ‘here remember college?’  Um.  Where did that come from?  And who are these people I apparently used to have inside jokes with since they’re writing on my wall?  I also miss the days when it was a “wall” and not a “timeline.”  And I don’t have a picture for that top part so my page looks stupid.

                Well this is what happens when you don’t want to pay $9.95 to read Facebook and play on Pinterest for two hours in an airplane and don’t feel like doing what you are supposed to be doing (homework.)  Anyone want to bet how much trouble I’ll have writing a comparable 900 words for that assignment as I have written here in a half an hour?  Sorry for anyone who is still reading.  I’m done now.

PS. Why are planes so freezing??

               

                

What Happened in Vegas

                What happens in Vegas – takes nine years to make it to my blog.  But.  I have excuses.  (Like you care.)  Firstly, I intended to post pictures.  Well I haven’t tracked down the camera cord so I’m throwing in the towel for now.  Secondly, I got a new job and there is a ton to learn. Lastly, I’ve been waiting on my new computer because well, I’ve been trying to use Boyfriend’s lately and it really just threw off my groove.  And we all know how well that works out for me.

                Now – let’s see if I can recall my vacation from two months ago. 

Airline: Southwest –hooray direct flights and your boyfriend getting a kick out of watching The Hangover on the plane on the way to Las Vegas

Hotel: Planet Hollywood – we say yes, stay there if you happen to be shopping in our price point

                Day one – we flew in around 8pm Vegas time.  I couldn’t sleep on my way there since I’m the best girlfriend in the whole entire world  and let my boyfriend have an aisle seat and I flew in the middle, giving up my window nap spot.  We went to dinner and then to the piano bar in New York New York.  If you have not gone there yet.  You must.  It was life changing. Seriously, incredibly entertaining. Aaaand that’s when my body was all “It’s actually 2:30am, my time, I don’t care what your stupid Blackberry says about 11:30pm get me to bed rightthissecond.”  We were like half a mile from the hotel and I’m pretty sure I whined and asked to be carried all the way back.  So much to see and all I care about is sleeping.  Typical.

                Day two – great thing about going west on east coast time is you get to make the most of your first day there.  I woke up at 8am ready to goooo.  I got to experience my first Vegas breakfast buffet.  Worth it’s weight in gold I say.  Then off to tour as many casinos as we could in one day.   We enjoyed a happy hour at a country bar and then headed back to the room to compose ourselves.  From the 36^th floor of Planet Hollywood, mid-strip, Mandalay Bay looks like it’s a reasonable walking distance to go see the shark exhibit.  IT. IS. NOT.  Know that.  Sharks were cool – learned I can’t take a single, steady picture after four tall-boy Bud Lights but whatev.  Learned I will whine my way to hopping on the rollercoaster at New York New York after said Bud Lights.  Also learned that Boyfriend is a HUGE fan of souvenir pics.  I loved that day.

                Day three – the first time everyone tried to scare me to death.  We spent the day by the pool since it was a glorious 80-something degrees and met Boyfriend’s brother (who lives out there) for dinner and a trip to Fremont St.  Where all the local crazies hang out.  Also where they set up a life ruining zip line that Joe’s wife insisted we go on.  The thing about this is.  You have to wait in life for like an hour watching all these other people go and risk death, thinking about how safe a zip line built on scaffolding could really be.  And in my case, you have your boyfriend’s brother to capitalize on your fear and offer additional suggestions as to how you may meet your demise.  I was sure to ask the kid strapping me in if I was going to die.  He said something about not wanting to be charged with second-degree murder.  Which, coincidentally, I found concerning that he was so specific about which degree of murder my question was going to result in. I didn’t die.  I didn’t look down either.  I don’t want to ever do that again.

                Day four – more pool, dinner at the Wynn, swing by Treasure Island to watch them sink the pirate ship the singing hookers choreographed by the High School Musical guy dance around, tickets for Cirque de Solei, and crossyourfingers he’ll forgot about the Stratosphere rides.

                Wynn was to-die-for, Treasure Island was amusing, Cirque? I…didn’t get it.  It was super neat.  I can’t believe those people can do those things.  But.  I didn’t get it. And that’s when someone was all – well we’re so close to the Stratosphere we have to go.

…

Side.eye.

                This is the part when you note the lack of alcohol in my evening to deter my rational fear of hanging out thousands of feet over Las Vegas and hoping for the best.  I rode one ride.  My heart almost stopped.  And I almost fell down the stairs getting off of it because my legs were so shaky.  He ended up gifting some teenagers suckers on our way out with free tickets to the other rides.  He took some pictures of the view while we were up there, I stared at the ice in my glass.

The kid told me to smile.  I said no.

                In summary, yes – stay in the middle of the strip, or the Venetian or Caesars Palace, but for regular people like us, Planet Hollywood is awesome.  You do not have to drink your face off or walk into a single “club” to have a great time.  Yes – go see the lions and the tigers and the dolphins.  Yes let your boyfriend buy all the souvenir pictures he can.  But you definitely should go into the mall there – grab a fruity rum drink as tall as you are and wander around looking at things you could never afford. Yes, put ten dollars in a slot machine – win more than I did.  And YES – go to Vegas for four days and take me with you.  I’ll show you the good stuff…from ground level.

Revisiting Day 8 - Because Apparently Someone Forgot

                Soooo…remember when I specifically said, first and foremost, before getting eaten by sharks or using a supermarket pen, I AM AFRAID OF HEIGHTS.  You do?  Thank you for paying attention.  Apparently Boyfriend needs to print out my blog posts. Or. Start listening when I say things. And I say a lot of things. I’ll accept either.

                Just in case he chooses the former I may even buy him a nice highlighter set for his stocking this Christmas so he can note the extra important things.

                We leave for Las Vegas on Thursday night. (yaaaay.)  I am pumped for 85 degrees, pools, winning a million dollars, the Bellagio Fountains, and meeting Bradley Cooper and the rest of the Hangover gang.  What? They’re not always there? 

                Now, like I said,Boyfriend has been there at least a million times visiting his fam.  So he is playing tour guide.  And he sends me this link yesterday.  http://www.stratospherehotel.com/Tower/Rides  He then says “we’re doing all three rides.”

                I open it and read the tagline: “Vegas without a net.”

Me: …  

Me: No.

Him: Yes we are. I have the whole thing planned out.

Me: Not going to happen…pal.

Him: It’s a must-do for tourists.

Me(Reading more of the site that says “Are you a thrill seeker or a bystander"):  I’m a bystander.

Him: You’ll be a different person after.

Me: The kind of person who needs Xanax to cross the street for the rest of her life?

Him: There’s a bar up there. You’ll be fine.

Me: I hope I throw up in your face.

Me: If you’re sleeping in the parking garage no one is going to feel bad for you – it will be your own fault.

Him: We’re doing all three.

                After further review. I can. not. for the life of me, figure out how someone, anyone, let alone the man who knows me best, would open that particular link and thinks “Oh Rach is going to LOVE this!” 

               I seriously have sweaty palms and my heart is pounding just telling you about the thought of being dragged up that high.  Also, if. IF. I was to agree to this, against my better judgement, and only after writing an updated will, I got on ONE of those rides.  What are the odds I get on TWO more?  One co-worker reviewed his recent experience on them as “the most scared he’s been in his whole entire life.” Then proceeded to tell me “You have to do it.” 

….

SHOOTMEINTHEFACE.

Have you guys been on it?  Will I live to talk about it?  Can you think of a million other things I should do with my time and money that do not involve me leaving the ground.  You know.  High aversion to risk and all.  Please let me know.  Like before I leave Thursday – I will need alternative suggestions, ideally nowhere near this tower of terror.

PS. If I do manage to  make it home alive.  My bestie gave me a camera.  And I’ve never owned one before.  And Boyfriend hates pictures.  So I told him we’re only taking pictures of our faces. And kissing.  And he is not happy about it.  But I will have pictures.  For you.  That is, if I live.  Send me your ideaaaaas. Or your Xanax. Thanks.

Oh hey look - the opposite of FUN.

Source: stratospherehotel.com via Nyssa on Pinterest

30 Day Challenge - Day 13

Day 13 - Something I'm Looking Forward To

    Well.  Now that the half marathon is over I find myself void of purpose.  Seriously.  I feel empty.  For all the dread and worry and trepidation I had for those 13.1 miles I'm sad it's over.  Wait. What?

     I couldn't be more pleasantly surprised by how well I feel I did.  My goal was between 10 and (please God don't let me be that slow) 11 min miles.  But I didn't train as consistently as - perhaps my sister did and I wanted to set an attainable goal. 10:07 spilts people. Two hours and 12 mins of running.  And.  And.  Those B-words.  Miles 11-12 was straight up hill.  I was cursing everything sacred as each turn revealed yet another hill.  Fortunately, the course nearly redeemed itself with a downhill final mile.  When I saw the group of people and started to kick it in I had two thoughts 1.) No Rach, if you are crying when you finish someone will think you're injured so cut the crap. 2.) That better actually be the finish line and not the food tent because I've got nothing left.  It was.  I was emotional.  Sister was the first person I saw and I could not be happier we did it.

   So now what.  We choose a different one?  We def do not train for a marathon.  This girl has a sensible appreciation for all things mediocre.  Why strive for glory when I feel accomplished half way there?  Just saying.

   Back to the original question.  I am looking forward to vacation.

   We are going to Las Vegas next month.  I have never in my whole entire life been west of the Mississippi River.  I am thrilled to be going now.  With Him.

Boyfriend: "Are we going to high five when we cross the Mississippi?"

Me: "Yea I guess. If I'm awake.  You know I like sleeping on planes."

    We have yet to determine where we are going to sleep though.  And that is starting to give me anxiety.  I wrote up a whole spreadsheet of options.  Now *someone* just needs to make a decision.  You see, he's been there like a hundred times as he has family there.  So I don't feel quite qualified to be making executive decisions.

Boyfriend: "Pick a place you like."

Me: "It all looks magical."

Boyfriend: "Please don't go all Hangover on me and ask the desk if the "real Caesar lived here?" or "Is this hotel pager friendly?"

Me: "I'm not making any promises."

    I'm so very much looking forward to this trip also because this whole year we have been unable to coordinate vacation days.  If I take a day he has to work, if he takes some days I have to work, if we both take some days he has things to do.  We are finally taking some days, together, to be together.  

And to be honest.  We wouldn't have to go anywhere west of the Mississippi River to make me happy.  I'm just excited to enjoy some time being with just him.

Source: plazatravel.com via Kari on Pinterest

Sugarland

     Sometimes, for me, music says everything I can't find the words to say.  Too bad country music offends Boyfriend's senses to the very core.  If anyone finds a thug-life, gangsta rap song that says something similar send it my way.  Also, he likes his Justin Timberlake Pandora channel?  Whatev.





"Shine the Light"
-Sugarland

When you walk into the edge of those
Dark and lonely woods and when I ask how was your day
And you answer not so good
And when nothing seems to be working out
Quite the way it should; I will shine the light.
When the skies up above you fill
With grey and stormy clouds.
And there's not a single face you know
In the maddening crowd.
When you know that you don't make your way
But you just can't see how. I will shine the light.
I will shine the light.
I will shine the light.
I will hold you in my arms
Until everything's alright.
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/s/sugarland/shine_the_light.html ]
I will shine the light
When your worries they won't let you sleep
And rob you of your days...
And you've looked in all directions but you
Still can't find your way.
When you just need someone to remind you that it's
All gonna be ok I will shine the light.
I will shine the light.

I will shine the light.
When you're staring down your demons
Weighing in your darkest night
I will shine the light.
Sometimes we jump into the great unknown.
Sorrows we all will have to walk alone.
Waiting there in the end is a heart that calls you a friend.
That's me clapping the loudest welcoming you home.

So when your heart is heavy like a stone
From carrying it's load
And you look into the mirror and see someone you don't know
When the shadows are closing in on you like a hand around your throat
I will shine the light.
I will shine the light.
When you've given into your fears
When you've lost your will to fight
Let me know what I can do
Let me try to make it right.
I will shine the light.
I will shine the light

More lyrics: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/s/sugarland/#share

Must Love Dogs

               So after all that hype I guess you’re probably wondering how it went.  You know, the meeting of the family.  Or not.  Whatev.  The answer is – we’re still dating.  So I guess there’s your answer.  Of course two days after we got back he needed me to babysit his dog for four whole days, by myself, which is way more than 1.5 days with my family, so that could be why.  We made it to Boston without a hitch.  Made it to NH after a minor detour that resulted in me being super anxious and therefore being allowed to listen to country music for the rest of the drive.  He’s a wise man. 

                He got a preview of the extended fam Friday night – promised not to remember anyone’s, which he did not.  Promised my Gram he’d compliment her on her hair-do for the wedding, which he did.  He’s good like that. 

                Met the kids in the church – I pointed to the row of people that all look like me.  They all turned around to stare at him before the wedding started.  The ceremony was beautiful – I could not be happier for the two of them.  I forgot to bring the tissues from my gift bag the bride left for her out of town guests.  That was a mistake.  What? I’m a crier.  Boyfriend rolls his eyes and laughs at me.  We had a way fun time at the reception – I’m not a dancer but my little sisters were breaking. it. down.  We did get in one slow dance in the beginning.  He promised not to make me dizzy – proving that sometimes he hears what I tell him. (Noted.)

                Anyway.  He still loves me.  And I still love him.  And he went to Vegas to visit his family and left me with his dog, who I do not love, for four days, and I fed him when I was supposed to, so he was still alive when Boyfriend got home, so I say all’s well that ends well?  He was all ‘you two bonded while I was gone didn’t you.’  Well if you call sitting in the computer room with the door closed while I got super awesome at my timed mahjong game for like six hours straight so he couldn’t come in and ruin my life with his vomit inducing farts again bonding, then yes, we did that.

I'm so good at this game. You don't even know.

                The good news is, next time he goes to Vegas to visit his family I’m going with him. (!!)  Which means – I will finally journey west of the Mississippi River.  It also means that he has to love me at least until October because we already booked our flights. 

                In other news Half-marathon training starts today. T-minus 12 weeks.  Also True Blood came back into my life last night.  I think that’s everything.  Happy Monday people.

Meet and Greet

                Well it’s June.  Which means – by my imprecise calculations, me and Boyfriend have been dating for two years.  What have I learned in two years?  Many things.  A few highlights would be: he and I have nothing in common except True Blood and the New York Yankees, he only wears gray or blue shirts, contrary to my previous thinking that I only like bulldogs – I’m pretty sure I like zero dogs, and Boyfriend does not prefer to travel if he can A.) come up with a list of chores that need to be done B.) tolerate my whining long enough so I have to leave without him  C.) gets me to agree that he has no business participating in whatever it is that I am trying to get him to do.  So far so good for him – until this weekend.

                **Note - I’m the kind of person that “this weekend” means the one up and coming.

                This weekend my cousin is getting married, in New Hampshire.  Boyfriend is coming with -  mostly against his will and quite possibly against my better judgment.  I am having anxiety.  You see, he’s yet to meet my fam – except for one sister and one brother and one niece.   Unfortunately, for him, that’s not even the half of them.  It’s the perfect scenario really – he doesn’t travel, they do not travel so now that the stars have aligned and everyone has to travel to the same place- guess it’s time for a meet and greet.

                As you may or may not know, I am the oldest of nine children.  So if you’re doing the math that’s nine people Boyfriend has yet to meet.  He couldn’t list them all if you offered him a million dollars – he doesn’t do names well.  I’m pretty sure, by this point, he knows the names to identify them as related to me when I speak of them – no longer forcing me to pre-empt my stories with ‘my sister/brother…’ So maybe it will help him to have a face to go with the name?  Or.  It’s just going to be a wall of people who all know who he is and he wouldn’t recognize if they were all wearing name tags?  Personally, I think we all look alike.  Of course I lived with all of them for years so I might not be the right person to ask.  I offered to set him up with some study cards – he declined. 

                I’m totally not worried about Boyfriend – he’s a perfectly reasonable person and he can hold his own with the relatives.  I’m just pretty sure he’s going to be all ‘we can’t have that many people needing places to stay when they visit Niagara Falls – so we need to break up.’  I asked him to sign something saying he’ll still date me after.  He agreed saying it would never hold up in court.  And when I amended the contract so that there has to be one witness – he said he’d get back to me.   I’m a thousand percent counting on the niece to work some magic and distract my Gram from asking him a zillion questions.  Plus the baby totally says his name and not mine so I'm pretty sure everyone is going to get a kick out of that.  (Which is totally not fair because I spent two and a half days listening to Elmo and Dora and he spent fifteen minutes talking to her while he was getting ready for work. I think she does it on purpose.)

                                     Stay tuned.

I feel like she's plotting how to run Boyfriend's defense already?

Change of Pace

                Back in the day – like when I just assumed I would obviously someday choose to have kids I was all “I’m going to be the kind of mom that gets up every day at 6am to shower and put on my makeup before I start the day.”  Now I’m all if I ever accidentally have a kid I’m hiring a nanny to come over so I can do things that are important to me – like shower. 

Last week I babysat my niece for two and a half days (with the help of my brother) and let me just tell you I’m hopping right back on that “Babies ‘R Not For Me” train again.  I know I’m only 25, and I’m not getting married any time soon so this is essentially a non-issue – but I was driving that train right after my sister had her baby and a year and half later I was starting to think maybe I shouldn’t be making such a decisive statement.  Then she came to visit.

Don’t get me wrong – my niece is an incredibly simple child.  She loves her naps.  She hardly cries.  Eating is a struggle – she turned down the cheese quesadilla and dipped her raisins in the sour cream one night for dinner.  She did, however, demolish the treats we got her from Dunkin Donuts.  Here’s the thing though.  She never sits still.  And no it’s not just because I gave her two munchkins. 

Also, the concept of repetition is lost on this tiny person.  She only said like four phrases for the whole time she was here.  Not that she can't say more things.  She just likes to say the same things. A lot.  Boyfriend seems to think that us grownups are just making her gibberish sound like words but let me tell you the baby knows what she’s saying.

Baby:  “Elmo Whaa Whaa?”

Me/Brother: “What? Water?”

Baby: “Elmo Whaa Whhhaaa??”

Me/Brother: (Hesitantly)  “Elmo Quack Quack?”

Baby: “YEEEAAA!!”

Me: “I’m going to shoot myself in the face.”

Brother:  “Ohhhh no.  You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

She literally asked for Elmo Quack Quack on YouTube at least 47 million times and simultaneously was hoping to listen to the Dora the Explorer theme song.  She was all “Do Do?  Mo Do Do.”  And Brother was all trying to reason with this irrational person with “You chose Elmo.  You’re watching Elmo!” To which she obv was all “Mo Do Do?”  *Face Palm*

Speaking of Dora - where are her parents?  One episode we watched Dora was all "my mom packed my blueberries for a snack today."  Oh really.  Great mom you have there.  Gives you some berries and sends you out into the jungle, where we all know there is that villain fox on the loose, with nothing more than a singing backpack and a monkey who wears red boots.  I'm thinking someone needs to call CPS.  Do we know where Dora lives?

Anyway, we took my niece to the Buffalo Zoo – thinking she would be pumped to see things like animals.  She was more interested in the other babies in strollers.  We’d stop at an exhibit and we’d be all “Do you see that? Oh they’re sleeping. Shhh.”  As we stoop down to stroller eye level to confirm that she could, in fact, see the animal from her vantage point – had she not been looking at the kids running around behind us or pointing to the path and telling us she’s bored with “More?” 

After 2 hours of entertainment and my brother insisting that all he wants to see in the whole world is an ocelot.  Which, come to find out the Buffalo Zoo does house an ocelot – unfortunately it was not in its display.  We finally find a duck.  And me and Brother were all “Look! Quack Quack!” and the baby was all bored and pointing to keep moving…”More?”  Turns out?  All that Elmo Quack Quack nonsense?  Has nothing to do with the ducks.  Who knew? 

This is when I learned that it clearly takes 2 grownups to manage one mobile toddler.  I also concluded that all you people who have more than one of these people, on purpose, are saints and maybe a super hero because – there is no way I am cut out for that kind of chaos in my life.  I napped both days for two hours while she slept and her mother was the one who got up with her at 6am.  But I still couldn't pull off a full day.  Note to self though.  If I ever have a kid - I will tackle and/or karate chop any person who even attempts to introduce them to Elmo or that crazy bi-lingual child explorer. 

In case you too had no idea what the crap an ocelot is.

Keeping up With the Joneses...and Maybe Even the Kardashians?

                It’s 2011.  People have smart phones.  And by people, I mean mostly everyone in the whole entire world carries a phone that does more than talk and text.  And everyone now includes my boyfriend.  As of last Saturday.  We went to Verizon and got him his iPhone.  And he thinks it’s magic.  Personally, I’m on my second BlackBerry so I think that makes me a smart phone user for like three years. The magic is long gone.  Now it’s a necessity.  And I’m your stereotypical BlackBerry user – the girl that literally gets anxiety when that little red light is flashing.  I can do nothing else until I make it stop.  Even though it’s nothing urgent.  I mean no one is going to email/text me to tell me someone died.  It’s usually just email from Shutterfly trying to get me to buy some pictures, or a book of pictures, or a mug with a picture on it.

                Anyway for a new smart phone owner I guess it looks like magic.  So far these are the magical things it does.  It has Google Maps.  It encouraged him to get a Gmail account.  It has Pandora.

                “You do realize that all the smart phones have been doing all these things for years right? And also that I’ve had a Pandora account for the better part of a decade.”

                “But look how awesome this is.”

                “Please turn off that crap before I throw your new phone into a wall”  Evil pouty face until it stops.   

What? He was playing loud, shoot em up, Gangsta, eff your  Mother music from the early 90’s – during the commercials of my fave television program Modern Family with the volume of the TV on at the same time.  So many things wrong with that scenario – beginning and ending with the fact that he was singing along with Ice Cube – who I know from Law and Order SVU.  So if the guy ended up casted on Law and Order, I’m saying his music prob wasn’t so awesome to begin with?   But that’s just me.  Boyfriend will argue otherwise.

                

             Also he had like three hours while I was at school to play as much gangster music as he wanted to without a single complaint from the girlfriend. 

                There is one thing I am super excited about his iPhone for though - he agreed to let me Skype with my sister and niece using his phone.  He downloaded the app last night and I am pumped.  To be determined if I’m going to be allowed to touch the phone or not.  Something about setting me up with the phone in its case that stands up.  Whatever – I’m not the one that drops their phone twice a day.  It’s probably safer with me anyway.

Story of my life. As of 5 days ago.  

               One other thing.  If anyone really does know some real magic - as in spells.  The kind that would make me look great in a bathing suit in like - seven days.  Please let me know.  It's kind of an emergency.  And I'm not looking to give up eating ice cream. Ever.  (That's why I need the magic.)

Almost Famous...?

         So today I hop on YouTube to listen to some music in my continuing effort to drown out the Cupid Shuffle and on my recommended videos I see this: 

                            Yes, that is, in fact, me.  I obv sent it to Boyfriend who replied with:

“You still make that frown face.”

“For the record.”

What. Ever.

I always tell Boyfriend that I used to be on tv. 

                Now to explain: for those of you unfamiliar with early 90’s NY capital district tv programming – which, ironically enough, I am not familiar with any other programming aside from these commercials.  My father made them.  He needed kids.  We were kids.  We were in the commercials.  My brother got lucky enough to hide under a sheet.  Even though he kept poking his fingers through.  But I didn’t even get to really wear the mask.  Apparently I needed to be upset that the fat guy was eating all my candy.  And since we weren’t allowed to trick or treat the whole concept was foreign to me anyway and that’s how you end up with the frown face seen here.

                There was one day we had to ride the carousel at the mall for like four hours straight.  I never rode that thing again after.  And one day we had to go to Fort William Henry during the off season and apparently they keep dogs there to guard and we had to pay more attention to not step in dog crap than we could to whatever commercial we were supposed to be a part of.  Thankfully I don’t think any of these have made it into circulation and I’m hoping those VHS’ are packed away under lock and key somewhere in my parent’s basement.

                In summary, I’m not only a world famous blogger – with the overwhelming popularity of 13 followers, I am also 200-something hits on YouTube worth of awesome and I know you all are jealous.  And in my defense – I had PANTS on that day.  The socks would not have been visible if I had not had to tuck the pants up under the costume.  The haircut we won’t talk about, I can't explain the sneakers and the teeth got fixed with a year and a half of braces.  

TGI.....T?

                This week has been the kind of week that I just thought every day after Monday was Friday and have been continually disappointed when I come to realize that this is not, in fact, the case.  Today was the kind of morning that I ironed one thing - didn’t like it, tried three different shirts, ran out of time and ended up in skinny black pants and flats with a bath robe sweater.  And these kinds of outfits are typically reserved for Fridays, and since tomorrow is actually a 50% off jeans day at the office I chose to wear this today – thus compounding my state of confusion as to what day today is. (It’s Thursday.)  And now as this day has dragged by, I can’t believe I have to come here (here = work) again tomorrow.

                I should have known it was going to be a long week when I chose to stay up till 1:15am watching Mildred Pierce on HBO – which is one of those disappointing shows that you can’t turn off during, but are not pleased you watched the whole thing when it’s over.  You know the type – and there’s still one part left of the mini-series so since I made it this far I’m going to have to go ahead and find out how it all ends.  Even though I wiki-ed it and I already know how it all ends.

                Then on Tuesday it snowed.  Not like accumulation snow.  But it snowed all day.  And the news people so kindly reminded me that this time last year it was a balmy 80 – something degrees (quite atypical of Buffalo, NY but nonetheless desired by all.)  So I told Boyfriend we had to move to warmer weather and he said Tampa. I weather.com-ed Tampa and it was supposed to be in the 80’s there all week and a high of 87 by Thursday.  I told him we had to be there by Thursday.  But after looking at like six houses online in our price range and hating all of their kitchens I informed him he had to pick a different city.  So that’s a work in progress since the day is almost over and we didn’t move yet.  Plus – he has this policy: No moving to geographic regions where adverse weather conditions could result in him coming home to no house.  And since Florida has hurricanes and hurricanes can take away houses we’re not allowed to go there.   So I don’t know why he said Tampa in the first place.  I don’t think he was taking me seriously.  I’m actually pretty sure he never takes me seriously. 

                The highlight of my week was that this semester’s worst class ever lasted only one hour last night.  So I chose to continue my training for half-marathon training with the unexpected free time.  But I’m tired of running on a treadmill so I switched to the elliptical and some guy who didn’t choose deodorant yesterday insisted on standing directly in front of my machine to watch the basketball game on tv till I started coughing obnoxiously till he got the hint and went back to where ever it was that he came from and I could finish my workout without passing out from trying not to breathe.

                Now it’s the end of another work day.  I already had anxiety over what’s for dinner, read a couple hundred recipes and settled on sloppy joes or chicken a la king.  Boyfriend chose sloppy joes.  And since all I want in the whole entire world is a hot dog off the grill.  But I’m not allowed to have that per the snow and the coldness because Boyfriend will not suffer though inclement weather to grill me one even after I suggested he grill it in the garage so the above would no longer be an issue – sloppy joes it is.

                Anyway – hope your week has gone faster than mine has.  Weekend plans anyone?  It is supposed to finally reach springish temperature here.  Hopefully we can walk the dog – I’m tired of watching him pace around the house. Ohhh – and maybe we can grill that hot dog too?

That right there is the recipe for a great hot dog - except the relish goes in the middle.  Not on top of the ketchup.

Opposites Attract

             I’ve been dating Boyfriend for, by my unsentimental calculations, just over a year and a half. But since neither one of us took note of when exactly we introduced ourselves to one another – nor do we care – I just know it’s been a while. I do know we met in June because I asked him to join me for my birthday dinner that July (he refused).  

After our first 'date' he confirmed two things with me –  I cheer for the New York Yankees and I do not vote Democrat.  Check and check.  Aside from that we have few things in common.

 

             Boyfriend loves Dobermen.        I love English Bulldogs.

              He likes all things Hip-Hop.       I love all things not Hip-Hop.  

                                                  Except Eminem.  I do love Eminem.

 

Boyfriend enjoys reality TV.                 Jersey Shore raises my blood 

                                                          pressure to an unhealthy level.

 

He wishes Facebook was never invented.       I love stalking.

 

When I met him he had this                Per the above,

                               Zack Morris phone.                   I must have portable Facebook.

...In his defense, he has a different phone now and is currently waiting on the next version of the Verizon iPhone.  I'm totally jealous that he's going to have a cooler phone than me. 

But the best things about being opposites??

 

                He eats the round ones.           I eat the flat ones. 

HOT and extra crispy for both.  Please and Thanks.

To Tan or Not To Tan

                Being that it’s February.  And that it’s been a brutally cold winter thus far.  And that the first day of spring is still weeks away.  And my lighter “winter shade” of makeup is now too dark for my skin. And that my skin is mostly translucent making me look like a True Blood vampire.  Or like Boyfriend did when he passed out that one time he bumped his ankle.  (He thinks, after thorough internet research, it was a pretty significant ankle injury.  Considering it’s been months and there is still a huge bump where his ankle used to be I might have to agree that it was more serious than I might lead you to believe.  He also thinks I do this kind of thing quite frequently – ya know make his life sound less serious and mine sound WAY  more dramatic.  I’m not convinced.  That sounds like nothing I would ever do.  And also he plays hours of basketball a week on it now.  So it seems to be fine.)   All these things have persuaded me to consider tanning.  

                Financial responsibility pretty much forced me to give up tanning post college.  Well that and the threat of skin cancer.  But I managed to find a sweet internet tanning deal for my preferred salon yesterday.  I’m an amazing internet shopper.  I could spend hours finding things for the cheapest price possible.  This does not mean I am frugal.  (Can a girl who went to private college twice, on purpose, even use the word frugal?)   This means I still spend all my money and just get more things.  This also results in a pile of packaging boxes taking over the spare bedroom b/c we don’t have a recycle bin and I feel guilty throwing them out.  

                Anyway, my sister used to tell me that tanning would also help to cheer me up and since this whole week I’ve been all …

“I hate work”

“I hate school”

“I hate people who drive on the same roads as me”

“I hate my micro-lunch I packed”

“I hate people who sit in the chair next to me in class”

“Why can’t I eat only pop-tarts all day every day?”

…it just may be time for an attitude adjustment.

                 I’m not hoping to look all Jersey Shore, Oompa-Loompa, just spent a year on an African safari kind of tan.  I just need to look more sun-kissed and less walking-dead.    And since I managed to get $30 worth of tanning for $4 I’m going to take that as a sign from above that I should take a few minutes this next week for some fake sun.   

Here’s to the Groundhog being right this year.  Spring please come quickly.

No, he's not mine.  But it looks like we would be good buddies.

My Car Hates Me

                As a baby high school graduate I chose to attend Niagara University.  I had the time of my life.  Met some of my most favorite people in the whole world. Took out a life time worth of student loans. And walked away with an accounting degree – that did in fact, get me a job.  All things considered, it was a successful four years.    

               

               The problem with Niagara, for my parents, was its geographical location.  I picked a school just over 5 hours from their house.  Personally, I found this to be an attractive selling point.  But for people who do not like to make a weekend of dropping their kid off at school – this made for a very long day.  Consequently, they so generously purchased me a vehicle.  The Tucson – or as I like to call her these days, The Life Ruiner.

                As I’ve mentioned before, I live in Buffalo, NY.  We get to enjoy (?) all four seasons up here.  And that obviously includes *winter.* Last winter my Tucson started playing this game called “I won’t start when you tell me to.”  Great. Thanks.  Just how I want to start my mornings.  The battery would be dead every time.  So I took it to the dealer- they told me it was fine.  

“Well, then why doesn’t it turn on when I tell it to? “

“We don’t know. Here, buy a new battery and try that.”

   

             I bought two batteries last winter, and after the second one I hoped it was fixed.  It wasn’t.  I Googled.  People seemed to think it was the radio that caused this problem.  OK.  Bought a new radio, had it installed and it didn’t die again….till it got cold out.  

                This winter has been horrible.  HORRIBLE.  I’ve had to jump my car at least twenty times. I’ve taken it to multiple car places.  No one can find the problem.  There is no solution.  So please, people, stop offering me suggestions as to what it “must be.”   

               Clearly this car jumping every time I need to move it is not exactly practical.  Thankfully Boyfriend works in my building and sometimes drives me there instead of fighting with my car.  Anyway - this is what I’ve learned about jumping cars in the last week or so:

               

•  Saturn’s batteries are hidden in the depths of the trunk. 

 I learned this by reading the owner’s manual – after me and a friend of mine struggled to get the hood open only to not be able to find a battery.  And please note – there is no ‘carpet lever’ or whatever they called it to release the carpet of the trunk.  You just have to pull it up with your fingernails.  Then the cap they put on those batteries is designed so no one can get into it.  I needed some sharp pointy screwdriver looking tool to bust it open.  (My technical tool knowledge should indicate to you that I should most certainly not be working under the hood of any vehicle.)  This whole event took approx. 45mins.  Thank you Tucson.

• No matter how flustered or rushed you are – always make sure you put the plus cable on the plus side and the minus cable on the minus side.

I learned this yesterday.  I walked out of work to go to a 5:30 appt and the Tucson reached a new low – even for her.  She wouldn’t start after only sitting through the day in the parking lot.   So I called Boyfriend who was still upstairs to come rescue me.  He drove around and apparently the cap on his battery was also just as difficult to get into.  And we didn’t have sharp pointy tools on our person.  So I had to ask some kind kid who had offered to assist us to help.  Would have all been fine – except I managed to put the cables on backwards and I almost started all the cars on fire.  You should have seen the sparks.  (I clearly should not be touching anything under the hood of a car.)  I apologized profusely and we went our separate ways. 

Clearly the only solution is to light the Tucson on fire.  But boyfriend said he won’t – because it’s sitting in his driveway.

Whatever you do - DO NOT BUY THIS VEHICLE

Restaurant Review

                Last night we double dated with a dear friend of mine from college and her husband.  It’s not often that we go out middle of the week because – I’m too old to do that kind of thing.  And also because I usually have class after work and adding another evening event mid week, thus replacing gym time, would probably result in a meltdown.  But, I’m still on break from school and Annie and I have been trying to make a point to meet up semi-annually, and weekends are busy, so Wednesday night it was.  

We consequently missed ABC’s Wednesday night line-up, and more specifically Modern Family and I’ve been asked to choose a different evening to make plans going forward.  Noted.

                However, because we scheduled dinner on a Wednesday we had the opportunity to partake in the couple’s special at DiGiulio & Co. – a discreet restaurant in Hertel Ave. in Buffalo.  I’d found this place in October during restaurant week, only because my first choice was booked till midnight every single night that week.  Boyfriend and I had enjoyed it – and our server had advertised their “Wine and Dine for 2” nights on Wednesday s and Thursdays every week.   I would highly recommend you try it.  The food is excellent and it was only $33 for both of us. We got the house salad (say YES to the gorgonzola cheese), bottle of house wine, and then we each got to choose one of three entrée options.  My breaded pork chops were so yummy.  And judging by the scraps Boyfriend left on his plate his chicken cacciatore was just as tasty.  

                Per Annie’s suggestion we went ahead and ordered dessert.  (You don’t have to say peanut butter and chocolate cake to us twice.)  It was a wonderful evening. The food was divine and the company just as fabulous.  And EXACTLY what I needed to make it through this dreadfully long week.   We did agree to meet up with these guys again soon – well – as soon as it’s warm enough to enjoy our next night out on a patio.