Bob Ross can suck it!

So, I have been trying to pick up oil painting for some time now. There is something about the smell of linseed oil, or is it my masochistic tendencies, that keeps pulling me towards oils. Oil painting makes no sense where Katie and I live right now. We have little to no room for even our day-to-day items let alone my tarps, easels, turpentine, brushes, sketches, canvases, lack of natural lighting.....I'm sure you get the point.

Anyway, there is something about the process of layering oils that pulls me in. This is far from watercolors, which tend to be a one-shot deal. If I mess up at oils, I just wait a week or so and paint over it. Therein lies my problem: I can never finish a painting. I just get frustrated enough to set it aside and start another, or 4 or 5. By now I am guessing you have understood my love/hate relationship with oil painting. Where Bob Ross finds joy in painting happy little trees, I get pissed when this little tree has taken five attempts and still looks like a damn lollipop.

Well, in a desperate move to try and drum up a little motivation, I have decided to post a few of my paintings here. That way everyone can keep asking how my paintings are going, and I won't be able to ignore them any longer.

Unfinished Works:

Canal somewhere in Holland...

You can see here that the boat on the left is a large black hole at this point and is quite distorted. Also, the bridge in the background is a little lumpy on the left-hand side. Then there are those great trees I was talking about, ehh. On a positive note, I do like the general color of the painting with the setting sun warming up the image.

Harbor in Holland

This painting has a similar color palette as the previous one, as when I became frustrated with one I could switch to the other. The row houses on the right are pretty sad, something that frustrates me to no end especially since I went to school for six years to design such things. The trees fading off to the horizon are also a giant mess and need a lot of work.

I don't really have much to say about this one. It was started with the leftover paint from the previous two.

Finished works:

Ganesh

This painting was inspired from a stock photo found on the internet. I love the colors, but the lighting is pretty flat. I am a sucker for texture, so I did lay the paint on a little thick here.

Because I tend to obsess about the smallest detail, I have forced myself to only use a palate knife while painting. This affords me some added texture while minimizing how long I can focus on one area—in theory at least.

Kiss

This one I painted for Katie as one of our first presents. NOTE: I have altered the photo slightly here. See, the painting was taking a little longer than I thought it would and Katie's birthday was approaching. In all my haste, and the poor light of my basement room at the time, I gave Katie's right hand six fingers instead of the more human five. The funny things is that it took us almost two years to notice the issue. I am still embarrassed by this and Katie will not let me physically alter the painting. I guess the abstract nature helps it a little bit, as most people don't see two people kissing rather a hummingbird in flight (one of our friends did).


Well here is a blown-up version. Now, correct me if I am wrong, but that sure looks like Katie having the time of her life while kissing me. No?

Seven More Days

Seven more days of blogging every day....can I make it? I've actually enjoyed blogging every day but I think the quality veers a little south.

This weekend has been quite lovely for a variety of reasons: staying at aloft (a W hotel that has this younger, hipper, less-expensive-more-style feel) with William for his birthday, dinner at Jax (a supper clubby steakhouse type place) for his birthday dinner, supa tasty drinks at Spoonriver (a natural, healthy, organic, lovely place) afterward--he had mojitos, I had a "tequila mockingbird," which tasted like grownup Pixy Stix--a lovely morning sleeping in, leftover steak with eggs this morning. Good conversation, lots of laughs, a snuggly home to return to. Making fleece blankets with my friend for her class, a short trip to Target.

Now it's 5:30 and I'm sad my weekend is drawing to a close....and now the administrative part of the weekend begins....

What did you get up to this weekend?

William's Birthday, continued

Today: celebrating William's birthday, just the two of us. Should be really nice. Full recap later.

Must run...much organizing to do.

Forces Pulling from the Center of the Earth Again

Today, I had mindbendingly-long work session in which I feel that my coworker and I should now be awarded a PhD in statistics, even though I can only speak for myself in that I have major issues with simple addition, let alone anything past basic, basic algebra. I feel smart. SMART. We are going to take over the world.

Then: long happy hour to celebrate four (4) people's birthdays. Packed like sardines. Loud people. Frat people. Too loud. Too much.

Then: quick stop at grocery store for NY Strip steaks.

Then: visit with my dad. Pick up my sweet, sweet mutt.

Then: Go home, toasty home, with husband and mutt, cook steaks, asparagus, broiled/toasted cheesy bread. Red wine. Ice water. Candles. Good conversation.

Now: Blogging.

Next: Some administrative stuff surrounding my freelance work. Working a LOT these days. Is good.

Then: Sleep, glorious sleep.

PS: Made major grammatical error and used "that" instead of "who" in last post. Makes my hair stand up on the back of my neck. Promise to avoid those errors in future. What was I thinking? Oh yeah, post-cupcake haze. Mmmmm cupcakes.

Happy Birthday, My Love

My Love,

Today is your 28th birthday, and (I think) the third birthday we have spent together. I know someday we will look back and wonder how we were ever so young together; and weren't those days awesome and romantic when we were young and foolish and the world was really our oyster, even though sometimes we felt like we couldn't wait to get more established?

We are, I'm afraid to admit, hitting our late 20s. I'll be also turning 28 in just 20 days. All the things I've defined as youthful are quickly passing me by, and I have my moments where nostalgia washes over me and I wish I could go back and be a college girl again, but then I'd have to re-do all the what am I dooooooing? Why do I have all these feeeeeeelings? phases and I'd really rather keep those in the past. I have lessons I've learned, and I feel I'm a better person for them. And I feel that they've made me a better person to be in a relationship with you.

This year, we took a giant step, together, when we got married in Hawaii. Maybe one of the best parts of that is that we are now legally bound to spend the rest of our birthdays knowing that there's a person right in front of our face, that wants to make each birthday special. I love when I happen upon the right idea for your birthday gift (and I love when you drop hints even more), and I love thinking of the little things to make it special, like this year when I stopped to get chocolate cupcakes on the way home and had the candles lit when you walked in the door. And it really goes without saying that each and every year we've celebrated my birthday together, you've outdone yourself with creative, fun, sweet, loving gifts and thoughts, tucked inside my birthday card.

I hope you are enjoying your day so far, and I can't wait for the surprise I have lined up for you this weekend, and I hope when you look back, you can remember it through that halo glow of the candles. And I want you to know that I'm hoping that when you closed your eyes and blew the candles out, you really will get whatever it was you wished for.

I can't wait to see how your 28th year unfolds, and I can't wait to be able to spend it with you.

Happy birthday, my love.

Classic Conversation

Kat: Hey, are you going outside anytime soon? (It's 11:30 pm)
Wil: No.
Kat: Are you sure?
Wil: Yes.
Kat: But...my phone is out in my car.
Wil: So you'll have to wait til morning to get it.
Kat: But...what if someone tries to steal it?
Wil: You're worried about someone stealing a six-year-old phone out of your Hyundai?
Kat: Well, you never know...
Wil: Yes, you do. No one wants your piece of crap phone.
Kat: They don't know it's a piece of crap!
Wil: Yes, they do. They can look at it and know. Next thing you know, they'll be trying to steal some trash outta my car. I think I have a half-chewed piece of gum in there they might want...

Sundays

Even though sometimes I get the blues on Sundays, thinking about gearing up for a new week, I've really come to enjoy them.

Now that football season is in full swing, William isn't around as much as he used to be on Sundays but I still luck out occasionally and he makes me blueberry or chocolate chip waffles while I wake up. Reading the Sunday paper. Not feeling pressured to get going early for any reason.

Today I woke pretty late (and I still need more sleep I think), and made trips to Trader Joe's and Target, getting groceries in order. I made a homemade mac-and-cheese hot dish (casserole for you non-Minnesotans), and cleaned up. Now I have the evening to read, watch my weekly cryfest (Extreme Makeover: Home Edition), finish the paper, have a snack, and snuggle up with a newly-groomed Mo and a cute husband.

It's getting colder and colder out, which makes me enjoy the comfort food and blankets all the more, even if I resist the idea that my birthday, and thus winter, are right around the corner. I can't believe I'm going to be 28. It's just weird.

That's really all I've got. It's been a nice, quiet day.

Five Months Ago....

I did not have as much love in my heart as I do today, something that I would have thought impossible.


My honey. My love. His face as he turned around and saw me walking down the aisle.


A most handsome man, the first man in my life, who taught me that men should respect me and above all, I must respect myself. My dad did not give me away this day. My dad showed me the way. He will always be my dad, and I will always be his girl.


These rings are blessed by our Hawaiian Ohana, a circle, which never ends. We promise.


I feel like our minister's face says what we are feeling as we kiss.


I felt a mix of adrenaline, anxiety, happiness in the morning, but after we sealed the deal, an enormous sense of relief. Saying those words, even in front of close friends and family, was hard. I was emotional and cried through nearly the whole thing.


We're "going Hollywood" here, to quote the minister. The videographer made his rounds with the photographer and caught this moment, where I can just feel our joy leaping out of the photo. I was so happy that he married us.


This face expresses how I felt inside, too.


Everyone. Thanks again so much for coming. It meant so much to us to have you all there.


Our moms and dads. Who, literally, made all this possible. Thanks for raising us right. Thanks for supporting us. Thanks for letting us be who we are. Thanks for loving us. And thanks for letting us join each other's families so well. We are so grateful.



Check out my grandma!


My best girls. Who have taught me a thing or two about friendship, love, patience, kindness, generosity, and how to have a damn good laugh.


My handsome devil.


Rapture.


I still can't get over my flowers. They were SO BEAUTIFUL. I love how vivid our wedding was.


A whole new horizon, together.



Aw, yeah! Sassy!


My honey.


A photo with a hidden treat. If you look closely, you can see our reflection.

I can't believe it's been five months. I swear life has been on fast forward. And on this chilly fall day, I'm totally feeling sunny just looking at these photos. It's like it was one hot, sunny, gorgeous dream. Only I get to keep living in it.

frozen

Sorry kids, I have really been phoning it in lately on the blog writing. Last week was really busy and I've got a to-do list a mile long. I promise some quality posts coming as soon as I thaw from freezing this morning.

William had his first bike race, and despite his chain falling off and taking a slight fall, he looked great!! Pictures to come.

Also, today it snowed. Boo Urns.

Weekend Roundup

Well, that was a rather rambunctious post, wasn't it? I wouldn't be surprised if there were more...after all, today John McCain is saying there's nothing wrong with the economy....I think we should all be able to agree after today's Wall Street ending that there's something wrong with the economy. We might disagree about how to fix it, but that's another story.
I don't intend for any readers to feel berated for coming here, but I feel very strongly about this election.

Moving on...

So, this weekend certainly had its fun moments, but I spent most of it feeling a little under the weather. Friday I was super stoked because William and I had planned a date night. While we really enjoy spending time together, we have been taking it easy with the dates, because we have spent so much money this year on the wedding and my not having a job. Even though I'm definitely still feeling the pinch, we decided to go out anyway.

I got home and we got ready right away to go to our favorite Thai restaurant. I was honestly a little giddy that we were going out. I maybe don't always express to William or to the world how much I love when we go out or how cute I think he is, or how I still giggle and turn red when he flirts with me. We ate a TON of food—we were both starving—and then it set in. The stomachache. I have a lot of stomach problems. Heartburn, cramps, sickness...it's a regular occurrence. I don't really need to get into details on the internet, but I'm sure you can draw your own conclusions.

But I was DETERMINED! We were going to eat good food and then go see the new Coen brothers movie, which I (unfortunately still am) psyched to see. I felt like I might explode, but I wanted to power through and see the movie with my honey. We went to the movie theater and discovered the time we wanted to see the movie was sold out, and the next one was like two hours away. Um, no. In a regular case I wouldn't want to wait that long, and especially since I was not feeling good I wasn't going to wait. So we reluctantly left, and rented a couple movies at McDonald's: Definitely Maybe and The Air I Breathe.
The Air I Breathe was terrible. We watched the whole thing but the plot really made no sense. It was quite B-movie despite all the good actors in it.
Definitely Maybe though? Was GREAT! I was so pleasantly surprised. It's a great little movie, cute rom-com. I go back and forth on how I feel about Ryan Reynolds, but I actually thought he was super hot in this, and he was really, really good in it, too. And to me, Abigail Breslin is always cute, and never crosses that saccharine line. Still, I felt bad that our date night fizzled a bit.

We each had our own things to do during the day, and then I had a fun bachelorette party at night. Lovely, lovely food—great job, ladies—and lots of laughs, including some jokes with Found Out About Me.

Sunday I had breakfast with another lovely non-blogging friend who moved out of town a couple years ago. I really miss her. We have a lot in common and we always have tons to talk about from books and movies and tv to jobs and relationships and big life decisions. Sometimes there are just people you click with and it's so easy to be friends with them, even if distance separates you.

Then there's the headache that developed on Sunday afternoon. it began as a little niggling ache, and I should know better and take something right away. But I didn't, and I neglected to really take time to care about myself on Sunday by running from place to place. Well, around 6 pm my brain had had enough. I was down for the count. I couldn't look at light, the TV, the Sunday newspaper...sounds made it worse, and even the pillow felt like it hurt. I could feel it radiating down my jaw, through my teeth. I was miserable.

William and I were hungry, but we hadn't grocery shopped, so there wasn't much to make a meal from. Luckily we had hit up the farmers' market, so we had some snacks to munch on...William chopped up some veggies and fruit and we snacked on the couch while I basically hid my eyes from any light stimulation. After the food kicked in and the Advil worked its magic, I was at least able to come out of my hidey-hole and watch Wedding Crashers and Old School (Vince Vaughn!) with William. I still wasn't feeling super great, so William rubbed my shoulders and arms and head while I laid on the couch. It felt amazing and was one of those acts of kindness that I truly appreciated. I had pretty much been a downer all weekend around William with my various aches and pains, but he was so understanding and loving about them. Thanks, love. I promise a more fun weekend next time.

So that was the weekend. And now we're back to our regularly scheduled blog programming.

Did you do anything fun?

I'm Not Gonna Do What You Told Me

This is what my home looks like right now.

This was right outside our windows on Sunday.


Riot police!


Riot police with riot horses! (I'm more scared of the horses).


Anarchy today (well, Saturday). They also smashed in the windows at Macy's.


A woman after my own heart.


When I was driving home tonight, I happened to be listening to the radio (unusual for me). And I caught that Rage Against the Machine was going to make an appearance at a free concert at the Capitol which is just blocks from my house. I anxiously awaited William coming home, since he loves Rage and I knew he'd want to go. He got home, all sweaty from riding his bike, and we quickchanged and ran to the Capitol, Molly in tow.

As it turned out, the police wouldn't let them play although they allowed the other (unknown) bands to play. It sucked. People were chanting for the band by singing the lyrics. If you ask me, they would have had a docile enough crowd, more so than the angry fans who wanted to see Rage (they also play tomorrow night in a more typical venue, but also for $60). We were surrounded by some seriously patchouli smelling hippies that were practicing synchronized meditation, so I figure we would have been pretty safe. :) Anyway, we waited and waited, with an antsy crowd. Eventually a bunch of cheers went up and they asked everyone to be really quiet and sit down. So we did.

And then we saw this:


That's right. De la Rocha and Morello with a megaphone. Despite teh fact that people had even done the soundcheck for them (and I spotted five guitars in the little rack, so I imagine they would have played a few songs), they werent' allowed to take the stage. So so so lame. In any case, they treated us to Bulls on Parade and Killing In The Name. De la Rocha did the raps and Morello sang the beats. The crowd helped with both.


And then:


I feel it necessary to note that I beat Tom Morello in Guitar Hero. Just sayin'. I do a wicked wah-wah-chicka-chicka-wah-wah, what can I say? (Please tell me you know what sound I'm making over the net.)

Molly doing her part as a concerned citidog. (in my excitement I forgot to put on her Dogs for Choice t-shirt).


Then as we were leaving, we inadvertently joined a peace march.


It was just described on the news as a "bunch of anarchists". It was totally peaceful and within its rights.


There were tons of these, and they're quite intimidating in person.


When they came out, the Fox cameraman I was standing next to said, "You might wanna get outta here, honey." Are you kidding? This will never happen again here! I mean, I'm not into getting tear gassed or pepper sprayed or anything.... I kept a safe distance but I wanted to drink it all in.

We rounded out our walk by checking out Chris Matthews, broadcasting from downtown, outside. Pretty fun. I hear that he Daily Show people got locked inside due to the escalating protesting. We missed the fire hoses, firecrackers, and gas.

I have to say that I love protesters. I'm not in favor of destroying property, especially when it has nothing to do with the issue at hand, but I love people who exercise their right to protest and who express their opinion. It brings an energy that I just love. I love seeing the people who care to a point to get out and do something, rather than just complain (which is something I'm guilty of).
I'm torn about the RNC. It's good for the Cities, financially and put us on the map as more than some kind of igloo country, but I'd rather it was the other ticket in town. We're typically a very progressive state and I feel like hosting the RNC doesn't represent the majority opinion here.

But I gotta say. I love the political process, messed up as it may be. And I'm loving this. Even if it means having riot police right outside my door.

A Rose By Any Other Name

A while back, I met a man who was the head of a very, very large hair-products corporation. He sold the corporation to Estee Lauder and has launched a new, smaller company, which was the reason that I met him--to interview him for a story I was writing.

William's firm was also working on this man's New York penthouse at the same time, so I used that as a way to break the ice at the beginning of the interview.

This man happens to be from an Eastern European country that Schwartzenegger also hails from--and has a similar, marble-mouthed (though decidedly less manly-sounding) accent. He's a total riot--and I think a total genius, so please don't get me wrong. He just happens to be a real character, of the Willy Wonka variety.

Anyway, once I told him that William and I were together, he appraised me, tilting his head and staring down through his glasses. I was a little unnerved, and a little amused, unsure of what was coming next.

"I think you and William will have beeee-autiful children," he says to me with a grin.

Taken aback and most definitely blushing, I could only manage to say, "You think?"

"Yes, yes, now let me see--where is the rose essence--" he snapped his fingers. A girl appeared at his side.

"Go get a crystal container and fill it with the Bulgarian rose essence," he tells her. "And bring it back here for this woman."

Uh.... OK.

We move on with the interview. The shopgirl eventually reappears with his requested items.

"This is for you," he says, telling me that it's extremely expensive, rare, and a really wonderful aphrodesiac.

Then he makes matters even more awkward by telling me that all one needs to do is pat a little under the nostrils and breathe in the scent—and then other "wonderful" things will happen.

I quickly change the subject, and he's easily distracted, so the attention shifts to the greening (or lack thereof) of the cosmetics industry.

I come home and tell William. He smells it, and we both pronounce it fairly gag-worthy. We laugh over our perception that it won't be very effective.

It sits on the dresser for a good length of time--weeks or months, probably.

One morning, I'm still sleeping and William wakes up early. He takes Mo for a walk, and on the walk, he wonders to himself if there wasn't something to the Cosmetic Giant's comments. No harm in trying, right?

While I'm still asleep, William dabs on a little of the rose oil. He cleans up and gets all handsome for me. I wake up.

He gets in close for a good-morning kiss. ...And something, or someone, smells funny.

Not wanting to be rude, I figure it's something in the loft that's gone bad. I sniff around, trying to figure out what it could be. I can't seem to find it....until I'm close to William.

"Ughhhh....why do you smell like that?" Just thinking about that overpowering rotten-sweetness makes my throat close up as I write this.

"Like what?" I sort of remember him playing the innocent, hoping the fumes will--I don't know exactly—intoxicate me into thinking I want him, even though it smells like garbage.

I pushed him away. "Oargh. You smell disgusting! Did you PUT ON that rose stuff?" I realize now this is some sort of amorous advance in my early-morning haze. He tried to continue the innocent act, but it turned to amusement and a little bit of embarrassment as I figured out his plan—that he was willing to smell like garbage to get some action.

He keeps trying to get close to me, and I keep pushing him away, and we both have fits of giggles over how seriously awful it smelled. As far as its efficacy at being an aphrodesiac? It was like magnets that you try to put together the wrong way—me propelling across the room any time he came within ten feet of me.

I think he tried to wash it off. It's been a while, so memories are a bit hazy. Eventually, we headed out for the day--sans William meeting his goal--and get in the car. Even that much later, with attempts to rid himself of the smell, I gagged when we were in close quarters. "I can even smell it in herrrrre!" I whined.

And when we got home, the smell hung in the air a bit. In clothes. It wouldn't GO AWAY. This shit is powerful!

Anyway, the bottle has stayed tightly corked and in its place on my dresser since then. If anyone's looking for some repellent, let me know. I've got $200-an-ounce rotting rose up in here.

The Fight in the Dog

About a year and a half ago, a 17-pound, apricot-colored, furry, Muppetish, four-legged, curly-fluffed pal wandered into our life. She walked through the door at the Humane Society, just as we were about to leave, and William and I pointed to her in unison, and breathed out that "ohhhhh" like the Martians in the Crane Game in Toy Story.

She was ours in our hearts from that moment. We didn't buy her that day, but the next day we went back and scooped her up in our arms.

Not a month into owning her, (we think) she ate some of the poisoned dog food--remember that recall that killed so many innocent dogs?--and she had a very scary diarrhea-laden incident, one that led to a trip to the emergency vet and a diagnosis of "possible multiple-organ failure."

But she pulled through the night and continued to get better as the days wore on. After about two weeks of hamburger-and-rice diet, she was back to good as new.

Since then, she has brought us so much joy. So many laughs on a daily basis, so many comforting head-butts and snuggling on the couch. Protecting us from the wind and fellow dog-walkers, blowing trash and scary noises (her own leash unspooling from the handle). She has completed our little family. She is our Momo, like owner, like dog--a little blond anxiety-prone goofball. Like she has always been a part of us.

Last night, I thought Momo was leaving us, permanently. I was lying on the couch, watching a Johnny Cash documentary on PBS, William was at his computer. I looked down, and she was sitting strangely, her head hanging at an odd angle, her stomach heaving in a slow rhythm. I thought perhaps she was going to puke, so I asked her: "Mo, what are you doing?" She turned her head slowly, with a glassy-eyed stare. William also thought she was going to vomit, so he threw on his shoes and coaxed "outside!" to motivate her to go to the door. She managed to drag her little Muppet body over to the door, but while he was hooking her leash, she began to crumple, losing control of her bladder, her front legs stiffening and sticking out in front of her. She fell against the door. I was afraid she was choking, so I tried prying open her jaws, which were tightly clenched. I got my hand in her mouth, searching for something to pull out, anything, goddammit, what the hell is wrong what am I supposed to be doing?

I kept yelling her name. "Molly, Molly, tell me what's wrong, tell me what's wrong!" As if she'd respond. Her eyes rolled around in their sockets. That's when I really lost it, yelling and crying and shaking.

Then, she sort of roused, just as I was convinced she was dying an undignified death, in our hallway, at the hands of her helpless dog-parents. I was shaking like a leaf.

William guided her outside, where she sat in the grass, dazed, head hanging, dead-eyed. I called my sister, in hysterics. She couldn't even understand me at first. Eventually I managed to explain what happened, while William calmly petted Molly and spoke to her softly. Susie thought that she maybe had a seizure. She waited patiently with me on the phone while William and I watched Molly slowly come around.

A few minutes later, William walked her around the block. I stood on the corner, still shaking like crazy, heart pounding, holding a roll of paper towels (to clean up her accidents on the way downstairs) and alternately crying and laughing on the phone with Susie, like a crazy person. Adrenaline was coursing through my body and I felt totally and completely unhinged. Then, finally, William appeared with our Molly, and she looked every bit like the Mo we saw that first day, from that first "Ohhh."

"Is she ok? Is she better?" Molly pranced around my feet, panting.
William says, "Well, she flushed a rabbit out of the bushes and chased it, tried to fight a dog and peed where it was standing, and kicked up the grass afterwards. I think she's fine."

Even then I couldn't calm down, although the words hit me with a wave of gratefulness that I'm unable to properly describe.

She's seemed totally fine in the 24 hours since. As I told my brother on the phone later that night, I think I'm more traumatized than she is. Right now I can see her, splayed out on the wood floor (it's cooler) snoozing away now that snacks are put away, dinner is eaten, and we're just relaxing in front of the TV, like any normal night.

Tuesday afternoon: the Vet. Please don't cost a fortune. Please don't get more bad news about our poor cockapoo, who just deserves to live out her life cushy-style. Please don't let me or William have a nervous breakdown (me really being the please in that one).

I don't know if I've ever felt so desperate, so responsible for a being's life.

What I do know—Molly is our furry baby, she completes our family. I know she won't be here forever, but 9 is too damn young for a small dog. Too little time spent with two people who love her like crazy—plus her grandparents who take her almost every work day and love her too. Plus everyone else. Molly makes people happy. And Molly has a lot more happy-making days in her. I have to think that. There's a lot more fight in the dog, as they say.

Even in Our Sleep

Last night, I had a terrible nightmare, full of things that were dear to me and were being demolished, killed, and ruined.

I woke up, sucking in breath violently, lifting my head off the pillow, convinced my nice life was forever gone, that I was in the same terrible place I'd dreamed. (Mostly because I can't fathom how my mind considers these things at night.)

The green glow from the alarm clock caught my eye. 4:05 a.m. My heart still racing, despite this reminder of all things normal. I hear Molly snoring on the floor beside the bed. Normal normal. I lay back on the pillow. Calm down, calm down, I keep thinking. It wasn't real.

William rolls toward me, slides his arm around me. I don't think he's awake. He just senses it. My heart's still racing. But in this silent conversation, I agree with him. It's all normal. Just go back to sleep.

Our Favorite Things

Inspired by WeeMo's request and Found Out About Me's post, here is a list of a few of my favorite things:

Cupcakes
Being married to William
The smell (and taste) of oranges
Molly's paws
Babies laughing
Fun snail mail
Fake eyelashes
The smell of line-dried sheets
Rock and roll
Protesters
Old photos
Trivial Pursuit
Big sunglasses
Sleeping in
Hawaii
Long conversations
Lilacs
Caffeine
Vintage dresses
Correct punctuation
Afternoons at Ikea
Thunderstorms
Blank books
Purple
Not using plastic bags
Mounds bars
Calvin Klein sheets
Target
Laughing so hard I cry; making someone laugh so hard they cry
Fresh lemonade
Letterpress stationery
Peonies
Bookstores
Play-Doh
smell of suntan lotion
making lists
The Bill of Rights
Nerds
Glitter (the art supply, not the Mariah Carey movie)
Feeling useful
Arguing politics with my dad
Driving with the windows down and the heat on in my car in the fall
Goat cheese
Home decorating
Tennis
Project Runway
J. Crew
Trees
Dr Pepper
Fishing
Simply Orange
Blog Friends
Hot days, cold lakes
Getting off airplanes
Listening to Liz Phair, Tom Petty, R.E.M., etc.
Chocolate mousse
Pineapple
William's egg sandwiches on weekend mornings
New socks (especially knee-highs)
Massages
The New Yorker
Good questions
Pretty paper
The scratchy sound on records
Animal prints

William's favorite things:
Laying in bed after a hard day
Pale Ale
Chips and salsa
Sound of blow dryers (hair dryers)
Warm laundry
Crisp fall days
Milk and cookies
All things Dutch
Snuggling with Katie and Molly on a do-nothing Saturday
First snowfall of the year (extra props if it happens at night)
Football
When my Katie sings
A new magazine
Good deals
Being in a boat
Sunflower seeds and fishing
Waking up second
Good graphic design
Riding my bike
RadioLab (New York Public Radio show)
Deep-fried turkey
Bacon
NewsRadio and Seinfeld
Tetris
Researching stuff online (esp. potential purchases)
Traveling: seafood in Santorini, paella in Barcelona, pomme frites in Amsterdam, mousse in Paris, naan in India
Right when the wheels leave the ground on the airplane
Doing Molly's voice
Saying "Caaaaats!!!" extra props if they are in "paaaants".
Robots
Legos
Chocolate
Chocolate again
Art supplies (all the hidden potential which may never come to be)
Seeing a sunrise (much better than a sunset)
Jumping on pillows
Jumping into water
Smelling Katie's hair
Smell of Molly's paws
When Molly huffs and puffs
Playing catch with a baseball or football
Playing basketball
Flipping Out (both the show, and just flipping out)

Our favorite things:
Thai food on Friday nights
Eating at The Sample Room
Weekend mornings at the Farmer's Market
Hawaii
Decorating
Vintage shops
Making each other laugh
Dogs
Teak furniture
The color pink
Corn on the cob and BLT's
The Bulldog bar
Setting goals
The Office
Arrested Development
Art fairs, especially Art-a-Whirl
Etsy
Each other

Knock, Knock

Hello everyone.

I know you are reading, and yet, I'm not having a dialogue with you. What do you want to read about? What's interesting to you? Anything you're wondering about me or William? Sorry, I'm in a bit of a blogging lull and I think it's all boring up in here. So let me know if I'm doing ok or I'm boring or there's something you'd rather hear about.

In the meantime, I have been laughing about this Cheesus--Jesus on a Cheeto--all day. I love when people find Jesus in processed food snacks. I guess if I thought Jesus was trying to communicate with me, or reveal himself to me, I would assume it wouldn't be in a bag of something made by Frito-Lay. Cheesus.


Also, I saw video today, for the first time, of my parents' engagement night and wedding day. I cried like a baby--what else is new? It's such a strange feeling, actually watching my parents in action, at 20, when all I've seen are still photographs to this point. And to know all the history that's followed. I love seeing the outfits, the cars they drove to the church, my dad pretending like he doesn't want to get in the car, my mom waving good-bye before she walks down the aisle, pretending to sneak out the back door. They've always had that way with each other, I guess, that flirty teasing way, where they bicker and pretend that they both aren't in love. My dad wore his army uniform and my mom wore a knee-length shift dress with gloves. So '60s, so awesome. They make such a beautiful couple. Still.
I saw a quick look that passed over my mom's face before she walked down the aisle, where she bit her bottom lip, and I know I made that exact same face just two months ago. Anxiety and shock and excitement all rolled into one. Watching her was like watching me, twenty pounds thinner, and with a dark brown bouffant. Kind of a surreal experience. But sweet and awesome and fun. It made my heart bigger.I hope I watch my own wedding video 41 years from now, with William, and I get the same look on my face that my mom got today. Or maybe I'll watch it with my own daughter, too, who knows?
It's nice to be reminded of where you come from once in awhile.

Thanks, Farmers

Tonight we ate like Minnesota-farm-spoiled gluttons.

On the dinner table: caprese salad, sweet corn, BLTs with cheese and avocado. I'm sure there's a lot of fat hanging out there, but man, I am just in heaven when I eat all that.

Nearly every weekend in the summer, we head to the St. Paul Farmer's Market and load up on whatever the farmers have grown for us that week. If we had this weather year-round, people would be dying for our produce.

To me, you can ship all the Driscoll's raspberries you want to Minnesota, but by the time they get here, they taste no better than the plastic they're shipped in. When I was a kid, my mom had rows of raspberry bushes outside, and we would head out there with giant mixing bowls. Every night we endured the awful mosquitoes (they love hanging around the plants) to pluck all those juicy, raspberries from overgrown bushes. (Sometimes I'd just watch from the swingset while my mom did all the hard work.) We'd have mixing bowls heaping over, and my mom would make jam and we would eat raspberries with cream every night after dinner. Juicy, giant, sweet and tart all at once. A huge taste in a small package. The way they're meant to taste.

Same with tomatoes. A beefsteak tomato in August with a cob of sweet corn, dripping with butter. Can't beat it.

When I was little, I never understood how my parents could gorge on that stuff every week. Now, I do the exact same thing. William and I pushed away from the table tonight, totally stuffed--but not uncomfortably so--ending our meals with the perfect bite of salty/sweet/juicy. Mmmm.

Sometimes the small things in life can be so good. Thanks, farmers, for all your work.

officially old

william and i just played guitar hero. and we ruled. for never really playing it before (well, he has). but i'll tell you what. two hours with guitar hero and we're both left feeling a bit sick to our stomachs. those moving notes on the fretboard... perhaps gave us mild motion sickness? kinda weird.
we are officially old.

open for business

my oh-so-talented almost-hubby has officially opened his etsy shop. you can check out his amazing photography here.
of course, i'm kinda biased, but i think you'll agree. i'm so proud.
running on reserve battery power now, so gotta run. go look!

morning

this morning, when i woke up, i rolled over, opened my eyes, and saw william looking straight at me. (he was probably willing me to wake up with his eyes.)
i have no idea what i looked like, although i imagine it was bleary-eyed and probably squinchy-faced.
he smiled at me. i maybe tenatively smiled back.
he said: "I love you. I love you so much I'm marrying you. I love you!"
we're getting married. it's getting more and more real as the time passes. which is normal i suppose.
we finished our save the dates for the most part. just a few stragglers left that i'm getting addresses for or some little detail for. but they're going out this week.
when we finished printing, addressing, stuffing, sealing. . . william said "well, it's real now! no going back!"
not every day is easy or perfect or sometimes even peaceful.
but most mornings, i wake up, and william is smiling at me. and we go to bed, and he tells me he loves me. i say it back, of course.
sometimes my heart just wants to explode.
he loves me even when i'm horrible and ugly in the morning.


*************

saw juno this weekend. laughed and bawled. loved it. had a VERY real dream that iw as pregnant that night. i got bigger as the dream went on, i broke the news to people, one of my best friends told me she would throw me a shower. i was nervous but happy. it's weird that i'm getting to a point where this could actually happen. it won't anytime soon, but it could. and that's weird. growing up.

**************

i actually had a rather romantic weekend with william. we went on a date on friday! dinner and a movie. went to great waters brewing company for burgers and beers--both were good. they are a microbrew downtown. we walked, and it was warmish outside, but flakes were falling. we don't live in our neighborhood enough; i was glad to walk somewhere, have dinner at a local joint, walk back. hearing the crunch-squeak-crunch under our feet, praying not to slip, flakes hitting our eyelashes, steamy breath in the air. it was just. nice.

****************

saturday was the save the dates extravaganza. i'm lucky william likes to be so involved with wedding planning. then no one has to feel put-upon to help me. they can just enjoy the festivities. he is also designing our invites, although the time we poured into the save-the-dates definitely convinced hiim that hiring out the job was far preferable than doing those. i am dying for letterpress invites; i'm obsessed with letterpress. i wish i had my own press!

******************

i have been doing more thinking about this new year's resolutions thing. i have done a little, but not enough, exercising. i took a fairly significant amount of money from my bonus at christmas to put toward my debt.
but i think the other resolution i should work on is being more in the moment. celebrating more good things. so often i let myself get preoccupied with the "little stuff". i should be done with that. after all, it's really bad for your health. seriously. too much cortisol in your body, too much anxiety...and for what? i won't worry less, but i'm going to try. or at least enjoy the hell out of the other stuff so that it far outweighs my stupid little worries.

*******************

the budget bride continues. today i nabbed what i think will be my wedding clutch. it's hot pink! and has a big bow on it! it's from the hollywould collection that was at target. it was originally $19.99, but i even balked at that, and ended up getting it on clearance for $9.99 this morning. i'm kinda proud of our budget wedding. we'll splurge on some things, of course--we are going to hawaii after all--but other things we've managed to keep costs really reasonable. and get most, if not all, the things we've wanted so far. my two bridesmaids dresses and mine added together total less than $225. total. for all three dresses. and they were all $250 or $500 dresses. we did our own save-the-dates. we will get a good deal on our invites. so far, everything has been fairly manageable. one thing we're doing on our honeymoon, and subsequently part of the reason we did small, small birthdays and christmas this year, is that we're going to take a helicopter ride through the grand canyon of the pacific on kauai. but i was looking on line and found a great deal if you pre-book. it was much more reasonable than i thought . . . for an hour of helicopter ride. my only hope is that i don't freak. i don't like flying. actually it scares the shit out of me, and i usually xanax up for flights. but i can't do that for this! maybe a glass of wine or a half a benedryl or something. . . .or maybe i'll suck it up and maybe it will be so awesome i'll never take a xanax again.

***************************
went shopping today. found the greatest pair of heels. i am in so love. will take photo. i owe a lot of photos, i realize. went with my girlfriends. it seems like it gets harder to carve out time for friends, but i seriously cherish the time we have together. we laugh, we shop, we talk. the talking's my favorite part. even when i find in-love-with-them heels. and i seriously respect their opinions.

wow! this is a long one, so i'm signing off.