And we even got to see snow

It is rainy, gray and cold today in Florida. But a few weeks ago in NY, it was crisp, cold and beautiful. Blake and I went home for two weeks to celebrate Thanksgiving. We ate turkey and saw as much family as humanly possible (we did a lot of driving around, people). Blake's family is kind of spread out. West to Canandaigua and south to New Jersey to visit. My family all lives within a one mile radius (just kidding, it's more like twenty).

I went home in August, but Blake hadn't been home for almost a year. The first week we kind of vegged out. Just enjoyed being home and frankly, I was pretty sick the whole two weeks we were there. Cold, achy, that kind of thing. Happened last year when we went home for Christmas. Must be the shock of living in dry air again or something.

Pictures:


My sister, Jennifer and my niece, Sadie.

Thanksgiving dinner, of course! We had a Thanksgiving at Blake's house on Saturday. Not only were his sisters there, but lots of other people came too. The lasagna was delicious (meat and veggie) and it was just a lot of fun.

Dinner at my parents' house was on Thanksgiving. It was just really wonderful. So much has happened since the last Thanksgiving, and a lot of it recently. We had a lot to be thankful for (as the saying goes).

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Playing "hide the cough drop in the napkin rings"

Blake and Sadie were attached at the hip! Or rather, his hands were attached to her hips because she insisted he "fly" her through the house for hours at a time. It was adorable and I have no idea where either of them got the energy for all that. A year has made a huge change in Sadie. She's outgoing, friendly and definitely has her own way of doing things. She even took to Blake's dad, Tim, like they were old friends the minute he walked in the door, even though she hadn't seen him in a year.

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Putting up the Christmas village with my sister-in-law, Tiegen, at my in-law's photography studio, The Classic Image. It's a bit bigger than the picture, but you get the idea. My mom used to have a pretty big Christmas village. I loved helping her put it up and pretending that when we went to sleep at night, the people became alive and the town became real and it was Christmas magic and I am a huge, ginormous dork.

Anyway, putting up their Christmas village negated the need for one of my own. So, thanks!

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Visiting with the college roomies, Lorae and Alyse! Finally got to meet Alyse's fiancee, Dylan and he is as wonderful as they all said he was. Sitting down to dinner with all of them, and then playing Apples to Apples, just talking... I love the French family.

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There was obviously a lot more that happened, but frankly, this is a blog, not an autobiography. Now, we're settled in for Christmas and I couldn't be happier. New house, new tree, new cat. :)

I knew it.

Blake thinks I'm a paranoid person. And I am. There are, however, good reasons to be on constant lookout for the safety of yourself and others.

Did I tell you all we went to the fair? No, because I'm a terrible person and haven't updated my blog since Moses parted the Red Sea (which was awhile ago). Well, we went to the Pensacola Interstate Fair. I decided to be a fun person for once in my life and go on rides. It took a good deal of courage and confidence-boosting hand-holding. Blake reassured me the rides were fine and even though they made funny noises and were rusty and went at whiplash-inducing speeds, that they were perfectly safe. HA!

It's a good thing we didn't wait a couple of days to go because a huge piece of a ride that we'd gone on flew off and injured four people. Luckily, I didn't get injured, but the Tidal Wave did give me was a serious stomach ache. Well... the ride plus fried dough plus soda plus cotton candy plus sausage sandwich and fries plus corn on the cob. But it was totally the ride that gave me a stomach ache, right? Fair food is the best and I refuse to believe it would do me harm. On a sidenote, we didn't eat anything on a stick, which is almost unavoidable (alligator, steak, various meats, fried oreos, ice cream and candy bars).

The fair was smaller than I thought it would be. Probably the smallest fair I've ever been to, which is really saying something considering I grew up with the Fonda Fair. Fonda does have a racetrack, though. I was shocked that Pcola didn't have tractor pulls. Blake almost shed tears when he found out. Much to my chagrin, I too, was disappointed. I missed that exhaust smell and the put-put-putt of the antique tractor display.

It was worth going, though, just to walk through the gigantic building of themed booth displays (recycling, crafting, christmasing), see the old cars, paintings and photographs; to eat the food and yes... ride the (apparently super-dangerous) rides.

Vacation

Even with a sunburned back, I am happy and relaxed. Blake and I took five days and saw Florida... the entire state, from end to end. Highway all the way.

We started Thursday morning and drove to Fort Meyers to visit friends for a couple of days. We went to one of the beachs on Sanibel Island and it was one of the most amazing things ever. Shells everywhere. It was crazy and I actually cut my feet up in a few places. Gigantic piles of little shells, larger ones embedded in the sand, when you go in the water, you can reach down and pick up huge handfuls of them. Luckily, Bellamy is a marine biologist so he identified everything, which was really interesting and made it a lot more fun.

We had lunch at Schnapper's Hots. Seriously, the best chicken wings I've ever eaten. Crispy, and just the right amount of sauce. Yes, I think they edge out Waterbury Wings in Vermont (though the garlic parmesan there are still my faves). Awesome french fries and tasty chili dogs.

That night, we saw "Zombieland." It was morbid and over-the-top gross, but hilarious. There are so many zombie movies and video games that try to be scary and realistic. It was awesome to see a movie that didn't take itself to seriously.

Then, we drove to Key West. Wow. That place is awesome. It's got enough quirkiness to keep it from feeling too touristy. The sun made the already bright colors even more vivid.

We stayed at the Navy Lodge and it was cheap, clean and the rooms were really nice, decorated in bright green island-style, palm-tree comforter kind of stuff. We didn't see much of the room, though, we stayed really busy.

We didn't do much Friday except get our bearings and visit a few bars. Sunday was our busiest day. In the morning we went to the Butterfly Conservatory. It was amazing. The birds, moths and butterflies were used to people and just flew around, mostly ignoring the people. Ignoring most people. For some reason, the big, blue butterflies felt the need to dive-bomb my face. One of them punched me in the eye. Seriously. Four times they came straight at my face. Why? I have no idea.

Then, we went snorkeling. It was the first time for both Blake and me. Awesome! The sunburn on my back is fading now, and it was a small price to pay. It was so much fun. I was pretty nervous at first because I'm not a very good swimmer, but apparently, I'm an excellent floater. The sun was gorgeous and there was 50 feet of visibility.

When we got back, Blake and I went to Pirate Soul, a pirate museum. It was really awesome. Lots of artifacts and snippets of information. They also have an authentic Jolly Roger flag (one of two in the whole world) and the only actual pirate chest. Also, they have fake stockades, which were fun.

We finished the night at Mallory Square to watch the sunset. Lots of interesting street performers, but their charm was somewhat diminished by their pushiness and insistence that everyone watch them. It was still great, though and everyone claps when the sun sets behind the horizon.

The next day, we go an early start. Had crepes at an awesome French-style cafe. Broke the camera. Whoops. The card is perfectly fine, but the actual camera is kaput. The last picture it took was a good one of Blake on the scooter we rode around.

The drive home was twelve-hours. Two hours less than the Google estimate. Though it was faster, we will never go that way again. The tolls are killer. In New York, the Thruway goes the entire width of the state, you get your ticket and pay the toll when you get off. Florida's Turnpike is a pain in the nuggets. In the area around Tampa, we had to come to a complete stop four times to pay $1 toll. Then, a little while later, we had to stop again, pick up a ticket, and pay $14 to get off the Turnpike at Orlando. Sucked.

But all in all it was a smooth trip home. Blake did all the driving and I read Jurassic Park aloud. Tons better than the movie and really interesting. Also tried Whataburger for the first time. It was good, but I still prefer Wendy's.

Today, everything's back to normal. Blake had to get a cavity filled (first one ever). I'm putting the apartment to rights, doing dishes, marinating dinner. He should be home soon and then it's off to get Littlebigplanet for PS3, which I've heard was fun and addicting, but never really believed until we played it.

Anyway, it's good to be back in our own bed and not living out of suitcases anymore.

True

TRUE: I have had nothing to blog about, therefore, have not blogged.

TRUE: I'm pretty boring.

TRUE: I will have something to blog about soon because Blake and I are going to visit his best friend (best man at our wedding) for a couple days and then on to Key West. We're leaving ... um ... sometime maybe this weekend, or maybe in a couple days. Anyway, stay tuned. I promise things will happen. They may not be exciting. They may not be interesting. But they will happen anyway.

Filler, Thriller and Spiller

I'm not a good flower arranger. In my own defense, though, I haven't had much practice. This weekend, at Hobby Lobby, they were once again having 50% off on almost everything in the store (man, I love that place). So, I picked up an awesome teal vase and tromped through the fake/dried flowers section trying to make something up that looked nice and fall-like and pretty. Blake and I were there for a half an hour. I picked up and rejected almost every flower in the whole place. I tried every combination, every color scheme. I kind of failed. I was frustrated. I turned to Blake, with a very sad face and said, "why aren't I good at this? What am I doing wrong?" He gave me a very understanding look and said, "you just haven't done it before." He grabbed the vase and said, "you need a filler, a thriller and a spiller." What? "You know," he said. No, Blake, no I do not. According to the guru (my husband), you need a thriller (something eyecatching), a filler (for background and to round out the arrangement) and a spiller (to add drama). So I picked up a big, fall arrangement of leaves. What's this? "A filler." I picked up a pretty stem of dyed-purple feathers. "Filler." A big, blue hydrengea. "Thriller."

Me: How do you know this?
Him: We saw it on the Today show, remember?
Me: No
Him: Hmm.... maybe it was while you were gone.
Me: You were watching flower arranging shows while I was gone?
Him: Yeah... I guess so.

Refreshed

I told Sadie to "make a nice face," but I think she heard, "make a face."

I have a lot to say about my trip home. Let's start with the most prominent change. My nieces and nephews are bigger. Bigger. Well, except Jack, for which I'm grateful because he's already six-two and hasn't even graduated high school yet. He dwarfs everyone. His mother, his father, and his aunt, who barely clears five-one.

My parents met me at the airport and my dad told me I had gotten bigger. I said, "dad, I'm 23, there's only one way I'm growing from here on out and I don't want to hear I'm getting bigger that way." Remember when a grown-up told you that you were getting bigger and you glowed with pride? Those were the days.

It was so refreshing and relaxing to be home with my family. It kind of felt like I was back in college or something and Blake was at his school and I was still at home. I didn't realize how relaxed I was until I came back to Pensacola. Not that I was sullen and moody before, I just felt... different. Better.

I also got my pet fix for awhile. Four dogs and two cats jumping all over you at every available second tends to make you think twice before buying a leash and litter box.

Maybe the highlight of my trip home, though, was the perennial favorite. Brooks's BBQ. I would kill to have a Brooks nearby. Sure, you can buy the sauce and spices from their online store, but it's not like having it all cook slowly over an open pit. Mmmmmm. Man I love that place. Seriously. I'm getting sad just thinking about it.

No, I don't miss Brooks as much as I miss my family.

Not much at least

VMA Promo

The saddest thing is, this is the classiest MTV has ever attempted to be. Is it wrong to kind of like it?

My husband can

My husband can take care of himself. He can cook. He can clean. He is perfectly capable of doing laundry. He just doesn't have the time or energy... mostly energy. Tomorrow, I'm leaving for a visit home.

I'm lucky. My husband isn't a slob. I won't come home to find crusty pots and pans in the sink and splotches of food on the carpet. True, the counters won't be clean, and the bed won't be made, and the laundry will all be one inch from actually being inside the hamper, but it won't be a horror show of massacred Tostitos on the couch and cheesy blobs on the nightstand. I've heard stories, my friends, stories of husbands left to their own devices and the havoc they wreaked on perfectly innocent kitchens. My own father, for example, knows his way around a toaster. He makes a mean bowl of oatmeal. But he's not into "clean" or "spotless." You know?

My husband can also cook. He needs recipes, which he looks at as exact science, but he can most definitely make a fine dinner all by himself. He just doesn't have the time. So I made him a Dinner List. Am I treating my husband like a baby? Perhaps. But does he need it? Most certainly. I'm making a big pan of lasagna. He's got enchiladas and an easy-to-follow guide to our freezer. So we shall see.

Great Day

Had more Thai today. Met four other ladies from the CinC boards (three of us had met before). So nice! I love how our little group is growing. Except I forgot to take a picture, grrrr! I had my camera and everything. FYI: The Siam Thai lunch buffet is only $8.55, including tax. Unfortunately, I could only eat one plate of food (and a side of 5 pieces of sushi rolls). Tasty indeed.

It's nice to have some women to commiserate with sometimes. Mostly, my husband is my sounding board. *Cliche alert* My husband is my best friend. It's true because it said so on our wedding invitations. He's a great listener. He lets me complain and then smirks and says, "you're such a whiner." I know that should make me feel worse, but it makes me laugh every single time. He's good at breaking tension. It's one of the reasons we never fight. One of us inevitably says something funny and neither of us can resist a good laugh. Hope it's always like that.

The girls and I laughed a lot today. Which feels better than sitting home eating a 9X13" pan of brownies alone and watching "Legally Blonde" one and two.

Just Gross

Blake is a wonderful guy. He's thoughtful and loving and nice. He doesn't mind doing anything I ask (like garbage duty) and he's generally neat, but he's also very single-minded. When he decides something must be done, it must be done that very second. Saturday, when we came home with the groceries, he decided the freezer must be reorganized. So, he took everything out, put it on top of the fridge, put in the new meat and away we went. Do you see where this is going?

Yesterday, he got back from class (about 5:30) and says, "What is that smell?" Yes, I had smelled it that morning, but I'd burned the candle and the mysterious smell wouldn't go away. So, I lit my Oust candle again and hoped for the best. Well, a few hours later, Blake must hunt down the disgusting scent. Oh look! Ice cream, cheese and hamburger meat... sitting since Saturday on top of the fridge. He'd forgotten he'd put all of that stuff on top of the fridge in a span of oh, say, ten minutes.

It was gross. I ribbed him a little, but he felt so bad I couldn't make fun of him for very long. Is there some kind of gender-related short-term memory problem? My father has this problem too. I grew up hearing this conversation one to fifteen times a day:

Dad: Oh so-and-so is stopping by later.
Mom: You never told me that.
Dad: I didn't?
Mom: You most certainly did not *exasperated sigh*
Dad: pause I could have sworn I told you.
Mom: Well you didn't.
Dad: Are you sure?
Mom: *the look* Yes, I am sure.

To sum up? Last week, Blake and I were having a conversation in the kitchen. We paused to go to the living room, looked at each other and couldn't for the life of us remember what the heck we were talking about. We retraced our steps. We re-enacted what we were doing. We couldn't remember.

Man, oh man, sometimes I think I should check myself into an assisted living facility for seniors. Blake could keep me company.

Touring the U.S.

Last night I dreamt I went on a tour of the United States. Our bus driver/tour guide? President Barrack Obama.

He was an excellent tour guide and wore a snappy suit with the obligatory flag lapel pin. My husband was there, and lots of elderly sight-seers were there. It was wonderful. We met Al Roker in California. We rode Route 66. And apparently, we were able to see the country, from sea to shining sea, in just one day. Except Blake threw up in an empty Cool Whip container somewhere between the Grand Teton National Park and the Grand Canyon. So we flew home, bummed out. It was pouring rain out and our neighbors brought over their pets to cheer us up. No, it wasn't their reality pet entourage of a dog and a cat. It was three dogs, two very tiny kittens and three fish. All of us (people and pets) laid in our bed and just hung out... which is weird becuase we have two perfectly good couches in the next room.

Free Food

Someone (BMurphy) reminded me that I have a blog and haven't written on it in a very long time. Whoops. So thanks for the reminder!
So here goes:

Free Food is one of the best things on Earth.

A few years ago, I interned at the Cooperstown Chamber of Commerce. Lots of happy baseball people and opera-loving men in rumpled linen suits. One of my very favorite things about working there was the food. B&Bs are EVERYWHERE in that town, and in all of Upstate NY for that matter. The Chamber members would bring in amazing pastries and breakfast and just... pure goodness on a plate. And we would all dig in. There was bacon. And it was good.

In college, my bestest friend, Rae, and I worked in the Alumni & Donor Records Office. Free food abounded there, too. Mostly donuts and cookies. Our boss insisted we eat whatever food was there. She was Italian, that explains it all. Lorae and I did justice to many a fruit and cookie platter in our years there.

I'm temping this week at an insurance office full of very nice, extremely civic-minded, charity-loving individuals. Come to find out, these people are good about everything, including their diets. There were five people here yesterday. Guess how many eat sweets? One. Guess who that one was? Me.

I had a bite of what amounted to two chocolate bars wrapped in bread, but didn't finish it as I have no desire to develop Type 2 Diabetes. I brought it home to my husband. The man can eat anything and he still has 0% bodyfat. I told him this and he informed that if he had 0% bodyfat he would be dead. Smart Alec. I had half a shortbread cookie instead. Before I even bit down I could tell the shortbread was pure fat. Whether it be crisco or butter, it was oh so good. Shortbread is magical. So versatile and you don't even need eggs.

My husband had quite a culinary adventure over the weekend. I wasn't feeling well and he decided to make his grandmother's brownies. Somewhere between warm the oil and bake at 375, something went horribly, terribly wrong and they came out this crumbly, grainy mess of ickiness.

The better I get at cooking, the worse he gets. When we were first dating (which makes me sound old, I know), he impressed me with his culinary acumen and presentation of a butter-slathered hot and spicy shrimp dish that made me want to marry him on the spot. Since 11th grade is a bad time to get married, we postponed. Now that we live together and I temp, which is code for "work once a month," I do all the cooking. I've heard him say several times that he can't cook. Which is just silly. He can remember ridiculous amounts of information, learn how to fly planes, and can't make a simple casserole?

May I present: Cooking for Engineers. Recipes and cooking tips for people with minds like my husband. That is, science-y and technical-y and precise-y. I was raised with the "pinch of this, pinch of that" method.

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I didn't set out to write entirely about food. Can you tell that my lunch was dissatisfying? Can you tell I wish I had more than a PB&J and a peach to eat? What I wouldn't give for Cape Cod potato chips right about now.

A complete Fourth

Fireworks, food, huge crowds... and the obligatory drunk.

Yup, our bases were all covered last night. Blake and I were, um, lucky, enough to have a live play-by-play, running commentary on last night's fireworks over Pensacola Bay courtesy of Mr. Harmonica-blowing, Coors-light-holding, slurred-words-saying, 4th celebrator. The fireworks were beautiful and very well synced with the radio. We had a good view from Bayfront Pkwy and sat next to a lovely family here visiting on vacation. The father was a serious Chatty Cathy and he talked Blake's ear off before the fireworks while I fell asleep. Don't worry, though, I was up in time for the fireworks courtesy of Elvis Presley, who looked surprisingly fit, trim and well, alive, as he walked his "singing telegram" bike down the road singing "It's Now or Never." Of course, some slightly intoxicated woman burst out into song with him, changing the tune to "Hound Dog." She was surprisingly on key, but unsurprisingly, every lyric was about two seconds shy of correct.

Our commentator for the night had a lot to say. Some fireworks were "$5 firecrackers," while he wasn't sure how much others cost, he felt sure someone else in the crowd did and repeatedly asked, "How much do you think that one cost." He was positive, though, that the state of Florida and the city had plenty of money to spend on fireworks. He also took offense to the occassional car that passed by. He expressed this by stepping closer to the car as it inched its way by the crowds, as if he wanted to fight the actual, physical car.

He was also a history buff. As he weaved his way down the street near the end of the fireworks, his commentary started to die out. It was kind of sad. Until, he shouted, "Down with the Redcoats! Down with the Redcoats!" Yeah, man, down with the redcoats.

Back home, in Upstate New York, we have an annual celebration called "Fourth on the Third." Don't ask me why, but our town's fireworks are always on the third instead of the fourth. Quirky small town life, what can I say. I love that celebration. It's been going on for many, many years. When I was little, we could see the fireworks from my house. No, my parents never took me. They're not into crowds and never felt like driving (sad, I know). I went occassionally with my cousins, but when I started dating Blake, I went every year because his family did. It was awesome. Cookout food, music, every single person in town comes out for this thing. That's not saying much. I mean, it's a town with a population of just over 2,000. We all sit in Wiles Park. The fireworks are set up close by (so close you can see the table where they're set off from. Is that dangerous, do you think?). The fireworks explode directly overhead. That's my favorite part. I love to feel that sound in my chest. I love how it looks like every single firework is going to rain down on the crowd. I love how everyone "oohs" and "aahs" the entire time.

Small-town fireworks are better. They're not as technically impressive, but they've got a lot more heart.

Noodle and Curry Heaven

Heaven. Heaven. Thai-food heaven.

Siam Thai in Pensacola. Holy-moly this place is amazing. I'm not a Thai-food afficianado by any means. I've had pad thai before and it was okay. But this? Whoa.

Siam Thai looks like your average strip-mall, server of undistinguished gelatinous food, but do not be fooled. Embrace it. The chicken satay was perfect. Pad Thai was so good I wanted to bury myself inside it and live there for the rest of my life. My husband had basil rice with beef. That dish had no less than seven different kinds of basil in it. Basil I didn't even know existed.

Apparently, I'm not alone in my adoration of Siam Thai. Lots of people much more Thai-saavy than me rank its food among the best they've ever tasted. Yes. I will be going back. The price is roughtly $10 a plate, and I ate it Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights. Tonight I'm making dinner, but you know what tomorrow's lunch is? That's right. Pad Thai leftovers. That, my friends, is a lot of food.

Fresh ingredients. Perfect spices. I cannot stop raving about this place. I may be in trouble here... By the time I move, I won't be able to fit through standard sized doors anymore. It would be worth it.

I was lax

Bourbon Street, but not bourbon

I've been lazy. I haven't updated since our anniversary. So here's what's happened: we went to New Orleans for the weekend to celebrate one year. Yay. We didn't think we'd be able to afford to go anywhere, but it was surprisingly cheap. Blake came home Thursday and said, "do you want to go to New Orleans this weekend?" So, after I got over being peeved because of his last minute nature, the trip was pulled together in a snap.

We had SO MUCH FUN! My legs hurt from so much walking, but the French Quarter was so beautiful and atmospheric. Amazing music everywhere, inside, outside, day and night. Absolutely delicious beignets and cafe au lait at Cafe Du Monde. Seriously, I have rarely had a meal I enjoyed more... and it was like, $8. We spent a couple hours on Bourbon Street and man alive, everyone was tanked. We weren't there late enough to witness any dangerous/insane shenanigans, but it was interesting nonetheless.

Reflections on a Year

Today makes one year of marriage. Where to begin?

A lot has happened since my last post, but today, it's all about love. The above picture is of the legal marriage ceremony, done by a judge at the county court building. Our wedding was five days later. No, Blake isn't choking me. It's all done in love.

Though 365 days isn't long, and I can't say anything new about marriage, I will say this. I love being married. We haven't fought. We haven't had an awkward adjusting period. We haven't found any wedge-driving differences. Knock on wood... it's been wonderful.

Tonight, before dinner, we toasted each other. Not over open flames or anything, just raised our glasses and said a few words, just the two of us. It was kind of mushy and magical, perfect really.

When I was young, I always wanted to be married, I just never thought anyone would love me enough to want to spend a lifetime together. Luckily, I was wrong. I have the one man who understands me better than anyone else, who laughs at my stupid jokes, who puts up with my antics, who takes care of me perfectly, and lets me take care of him.

Sometimes, People Have Birthdays

If my mom's birthdays make me feel old, I can't begin to imagine her thoughts on the subject....

When I was little, it never occurred to me that my parents would age. I know that sounds silly, but you don't know the half of it... I was the silliest kid for hundreds of miles around. Anyway, I knew people got old. I had grandparents. My childhood had more funerals than weddings. Still, my parents were different.

Mind you, my parents are not old, though they are pushing 6-0. They're active, still run the farm and can be found out and about. But it's weird. In a year, I've only been home a handful of times. I'm scared that one day, I'm going to get off a plane and they'll be there and they'll be.... well, old. Like, geriatric.

I have photos of when I arrived off the plane from S. Korea. Me in a little pink snowsuit and my mom with the big 80s glasses. I wish I knew what I was thinking just then. "Wow, America's crowded." or "I don't look like these people at all." I don't know. My point is, I guess, that I love my parents. Every time I go home, their faces light up like that picture that was taken almost 23 years ago. It's like I'm getting off the plane from S. Korea... only I'm much older and know English.

Cheesy Movies I Love

When I was in high school, I flocked to terrible movies like all of my friends. Some of these movies... I still like. I can't help it. Today's movie? Pearl freakin' Harbor.

Kate Beckinsale. Ben Affleck. Josh Hartnett. Planes in WWII.

In high school, it was standard on Monday mornings for my friends and I to sit by our lockers and talk about our weekends. My one friend, Vanessa said that she invited her boyfriend over and they watched Pearl Harbor... but didn't see any of it. So, from then on, whenever one of us sat at home, "watching a movie" with our boyfriends, we told each other we "watched Pearl Harbor" over the weekend.

Right now, I am watching Pearl Harbor by myself, which is not a euphemism.

Sunny Sunday

Blake has been so stressed out about Primary that blogging fell by the wayside. He feels like he's the only one making mistakes, like he's the only one who's not taking to the T-34 like a fish to water... which his friends say is totally not true, they're all making the same mistakes. Anyway, a few pep talks later and he's got his head back in the game (mostly).

So, it's beautiful outside. As you can see from the above picture, our tomato plants finally have real flowers! Hooooooray! Our garden is coming along beautifully. You can kind of see how far they've come from the pictures I posted when we planted it. I'm very excited. It's so nice having fresh parsley and rosemary, I can't wait to have fresh... well... everything.

When I was little, my mom had a ginormous, extremely tasty garden. I'm talking the works, people: tomatoes, peas, beans, spinach, lettuces, asparagus, peppers, cucumbers, squash, zucchini. It was HEAVEN! Someday, I will have a garden like that. Mark my words. My container garden is nice, but a little weeding would make me feel like I accomplished something. Yes, I know, asking for weeds is crazy because once weeds start growing, you have to work like a fiend to fend them off.

Maybe someday I'll be one of those old ladies in faded jeans and t-shirt, floppy hat on my head, wicker basket at my side. Collecting vegetables and pulling weeds with my worn in gloves.

Running Wild

My husband hates shoe shopping.

There's a surprise. The one thing he does care about? His running shoes. Yesterday we went to an awesome store in Pensacola called Running Wild. They really know what they're doing there. After, I talked Blake into buying a pair of sandals. He's very anti-thong sandal. Always has been. I used peer pressure and he got a pair. I was happy, though I will never get him to wear a pair of Converse. I can't even picture it. Weird.

Today is cleaning day. Because I worked full-time all week, the apartment was a disaster. Really gross. All fixed now. Laundry done. Bread in the oven (though I forgot the salt). Dinner done because we're having leftovers.

I had about half a loaf of stale bread so I decided to make stuffing. Awesome idea! Stuffing is too good to only have at Thanksgiving and Christmas. The onion. The celery. The poultry seasoning. Heaven.

Now I'm off to bury my nose in books.

Doerbirds

It's no secret. I love the color orange.

I wasn't always so lucky to have such fine, upper-class taste. No, my attachment to all things orange came swiftly and beautifully, like a summer sunrise (which is also orange). During my three and a half years at Syracuse University, I saw more orange than you can shake a stick at. Really. There are not enough hours in the day.

So, when I found out The Husband had been placed in VT-2 at Whiting, I was ecstatic. Finally, he too loves orange. For entirely different reasons of course, but hey, today it's orange t-shirts and tomorrow it's trekking to S.U. to hug Otto.


Pictured: Otto as Linda Blair

Anyway, last night was the "Bring Your Spouses to Whiting" night. There was Domino's Pizza and little bottles of soda, lots of kids running around and the obligatory Top Gun reference. It was fun. Squadrons three and six were also there, but unfortunately, all three squadrons' XOs and COs were away at conference. Oh well.

I got to climb onto a T-34, which was cool. Blake explained where all of the stuff was that I've been helping him study. Twas nice. Although I still don't know why there are two different color fire hydrants on base (the standard red and the mysterious blue). They're so close together I have a hard time believing they're both water. Any answers?

Today Blake meets his on-wing. The man who will be watching and grading his every move for five months. Yikes.

I have another day of temping ahead of me.

Just noticed that I've neglected to water the receptionist's peace lilly. Better get on that. Killing plants is a great way to make people hate you.

Deluge

You know what's a terrible thing to blog about? Weather.

Because everyone has opinions on the weather and no one wants to read about such a mundane, everyday occurrance. Well, tough nuggets folks, because this morning, I thought Milton, Florida was going to be swept away by a two-hundred foot wall of water. I thought I was going to see entire houses floating by the office where I'm temping this week.

No, I didn't see that. But, I did see a car sitting in a considerable amount of water. You know how "experts" say not to drive into a puddle of water because you never know how deep it is? Well... take heed. Take very careful heed. The poor woman missed the pavement completely and drove/floated over a three-inch curb and into a drainage ditch. She noticed neither curb nor ditch because the water was halfway up her car door.

She called into the office to say she would be late for her interview... she was at the building, but couldn't get out of her car. She was semi-hysterical. I told her to call her insurance company. They were minimal help, but did end up calling the firemen to rescue her. She's got a busted-up car that still runs and, bless her heart, she still did the job interview.

Blake called me in the midst of all this and asked if I could run the car up to him (we carpooled). He forgot his knee board and gloves at home. I said I would drive up if he wanted, but by all accounts, the roads were pretty much undriveable. He opted to borrow his forgotten items from a colleague for which I was very glad.

Things are calm once more, though the skies still look like the underside of someone's muddy boot. The parking lot is no longer Lake Milton. I would, however, like to relate one more thing. When someone is in trouble, panicking and confused, have some humanity. This being my first day here, I wasn't sure if there was a procedure if someone had an accident on the grounds or if this sort of thing had happened before. I told the woman's situation to the facility manager and he seemed more disgusted by the woman's stupidity than concerned for her safety. He didn't want to go outside and get all wet himself. What did she expect him to do? Well... I don't know. I felt pretty helpless myself, but at least I wanted to go out and have a word with her. I called her back to see how she was and offered to call the police or fire department or tow truck. Yes, she made a grave error driving into the water, but you know what? She's paying for it with her tears and her car.

Kindness is free.

Happy *insert occassion here*

Turned 23 on Saturday. First birthday out of N.Y. (except for the teensy-tiny exception of my birth in S. Korea).

Blake and I went to the movies on Friday and saw "Observe and Report." Before seeing it, I read some reviews. They were not kind. I won't get into details, but it had its low (very low) points and its high (very high) points. So, it was disgusting, disturbing and inappropriately hilarious. It takes the award for "random funny." Seriously. Lots of things you just don't see coming.

Anyway, Saturday I made myself a cake (devil's food with cream cheese chocolate icing) and for dinner, Blake grilled a steak to perfection. It was a great night... until I got sick. Spent the last hour or so of my birthday seriously ill. Oh well. I was okay when I woke up for Easter.

What did we do for the big event? Well... I took an allergy pill, made fried chicken, passed out from said-allergy pill and then we watched a movie. The last half of dinner up until the movie-watching is blackout. Happy Easter. Thanks, Benadryl.

NAS Whiting Field (or... Primary and marriage)

I got my first look at NAS Whiting Field today. It's beautiful.

Pensacola is kind of like the "big city" of bases. It's pretty huge, lots of fancy amenities, lots of buildings. It's a hub. Whiting Field is more picturesque.

Being new to the Navy life, I've only experienced a handful of bases, but of course, I know Pensacola is an exception. Still, I didn't expect so much... green at Whiting. Lots of trees and forest, beautiful wooden fences, landscapers mulching the ground with fresh, red cedar.

I saw the trainer planes and helicopters all lined up in neat orange and white rows, the command building with its white gables. It kind of looked like a resort, which would make anyone in training there laugh until they passed out from lack of oxygen.

Another first. My husband finally let me help him study his EPs (Emergency Procedures). He has to know them by rote, which is difficult considering the sheer number of things that can go wrong with a plane. He knew it would be easier if I helped him, but he didn't ask because he didn't want to "inconvenience" me. I was slack-jawed. Seriously? I LOVE helping him. I LOVE being part of the process. He knows this about me.

You know why he was scared to ask? The Navy. He's heard so many times, from so many officers of all ranks that Primary is a marriage-killer. That your wife will feel ignored. She will whine and complain and think you don't love her. She will resent all you. Then, they turn around and say that you should ask your wife to help you study. Hmmm... Blake's heard so many horror stories of guys' crazy wives that he's on eggshells trying to keep my psyche from falling apart. My psyche is fine, thank you very much.

I felt pretty bad for him. Luckily, it's all sorted out. He was visibly relieved.

It made me think, though...

Wives feeling ignored is unavoidable in the military. I mean, seriously, they're called deployments, but having your husband one room away, nose in a book until 9:00 at night, wanting to be left alone, that sounds harsh.

A lot of guys in flight school are newlyweds, or new to living with their significant other. That alone is enough change to make your head spin. Throw in the fact that your husband is the invisible man, and it probably makes some women go crazy. Honestly? I have little to no sympathy. You must have heard, he must have told you, that it's tough. There are hours and hours of studying and hard work to be put in. After-class time on simulators, night flights, random hours, flight plans. Sorry. That's just the way it is. No amount of complaining will make a difference. It will only hinder his training, which is dangerous.

Go ahead, tell him you miss him and of course, you wish you could spend more time together, but don't guilt him into things he doesn't have time for.

Whew. Okay, off the soap box and back to work.

It's Here

Hello world... I have PMS. I feel very sad today and couldn't figure out why... then I looked at the calendar.

I wish there was more weekend. Just one more day. I don't know... I think because on the weekends, you can just kick back. You don't have to think about business or money or bills because there's no mail on Sunday and offices are closed. Not that we're getting calls from bill collectors or anything, but when PMS kicks in, logic doesn't factor into emotions as much as usual.

Oh well. Admitting I have PMS is the first step to curing it. Good thing I have an understanding husband.

I like it.

Today was made good by one thing... the library. I have a deep, abiding love for public libraries. Some of my first memories are of story time back home, before kindergarten. The books. The painting. The pasta necklaces. All good memories.

I love walking the shelves, no particular book or author in mind, just reading titles and jackets. It can be a bit daunting in fiction, but in non-fiction, it's just... nice. I picked up a couple of WWII books today along with my usual assortment of fiction. I've learned the hard way that when it comes to checking out history books, best not to mix your wars. One at a time.

Also, I got groceries sans husband. He stayed home to study (thanks, Primary).

The rest of my day? Video games. Books. Finishing Airline. Have you seen it? Airline was a series that aired for one season on A&E. FASCINATING. I'm not a frequent flier, but seeing as how I married a military guy, I will be intimately acquainted with airlines through the years. This show dealt with Southwest and let me tell you, there is some serious crazy running around in airports across tthe nation. Yes, there is your normal array of unreasonably disgruntled customers who take out their frustration on the wrong people, but there is also a guy in a tiger costume, a guy in a velour mini-skirt who goes commando, a woman separated from her life-saving medication, an irate and curse-spewing grandma, lots of drunk people and a wedding dress with tire marks down its front. Yikes. The narration is boring, but the meat of the show is extremely interesting.

Unlike most reality TV shows, it's kind of informational. You get to see how an airline works. More importantly, though, I hope those crazy-angry customers see themselves on TV and realize how dumb they look.

Red (like a) Lobster

Long time, no post. Last week was busy, though. Blake's cousin, Travis, came down to visit. His plane left before the sun came up today.

It was a lot of fun, and just the break Blake needed before Primary. He was anticipating having at least a couple of weeks between API and Primary... of course, the Navy threw a curveball and gave him one week. Luckily, Travis was already booked on a flight.

So, it rained the first three days... pouring, deluge, flash-flood rain. The thunder and lightening alone woke me up every one of those mornings. So, we sat around, played COD: World at War, had a lot of laughs.

Then, Saturday, it cleared. Oh boy, did it clear up. Beautiful, perfect, sunshine weather. We got to Pensacola Beach about one-thirty or so. I didn't bring any sunscreen, because, you know, I'm a big idiot. I thought we'd stay maybe two hours. Which, would've been fine and dandy. Except we stayed for about five hours... and at first, everything was fine and dandy. Then, Travis started saying his back was sunburned. So, I reevaluated my body and lo and behold... my entire front was stinging.

The next day, it hurt to stand. My lower legs, stomach and forearms hurt the most. Now, three days later, the pain is subsiding. My husband and I can once again spoon ourselves to sleep.

My mother told me to put vinegar on my burns to take the sting away and stop peeling... I told her I had no interest in smelling like a pickle.

The peeling has started. It looks like someone threw sawdust on my face. It's that disgusting. I'm gross. I'm not fit for respectable company.

The Tops

I love video games. I always have, from the time my sister first handed me the controller and let me take charge of Mario the Plumber.... those mushrooms and duck shells were awesome. Not having money to throw around when I was little, my experience with gaming was little to none... until I started dating my husband. He introduced me to the finer points of Microsoft's monster machine and I was hooked.

Here are my all-time-favorite games:

Halo (pick one): The reason I love this game? Pure nostalgia. It was the first game I truly cared about, talked about, knew the specs about. Master Chief is one of the greatest characters in video game history. My husband still beats me just about every time, on any map, but it's fun anyway.
A great memory? My college roommate Alyse and I, sitting for hours on the couch, playing co-op Halo and singing Elton John/Tim Rice's "Aida" soundtrack at the top of our lungs.

Elder Scolls (pick one): It's just so damn epic! Especially with the latest installment, Oblivion, the power to just walk or swim anywhere is unbelievably awesome. The map is gigantic and it truly is a world of its own. One of those games where you pick up the controller in the morning and then, you blink a few times and realize that it's 10:00 at night.
A great memory? Morrowind is the first game I ever played on Xbox. I was utterly fascinated at the "life" Blake had fashioned for his main character, the houses, the friends, it was unreal.

COD (pick one): I *heart* this franchise. It's one of the pinnacles of first person shooters. I now know weaponry of WWII from these games. And don't even get me started on COD4: Modern Warfare! I almost wet myself the first time I played that. Just kidding. It was exciting, though.
A great memory? "Death From Above" where you're manning the AC-130 ... aaammmmaaazing. That is one of my favorite video game missions ever!

Bioshock: Not only were the mechanics wonderful, but the city of Rapture in all its faded, creepy, art-deco glory was breathtaking... and did I mention creepy? It was truly a new concept, which is something that's hard to come by nowadays in gaming.
A great memory? Well, not so great memory. I know Bioshock isn't a horror game, but my nerves would be absolutely frayed after I played because the Big Daddies and Splicers freaked me out.

Fable 2: The first Fable was the very definition of "orgasmic letdown." The second one? Made up for it in freakin' spades!!!! I mean, come on, that pet dog was adorable. The way your character's physical appearance matched whether you did good or evil? I loved it.

Runners Up:
Assassin's Creed: SO innovative. Can't wait to see more.
GTA 4: Loved the story-line, but could do without the b*tches and ho's mentality
Mass Effect: Kind of weak in a few points, but a really awesome indication of where RPG's are going. The amount of side-quests and planets to discover is stunning.
Guitar Hero (pick one): mind-numbing, finger-numbing fun
Duck Hunt: To think, that little plastic red gun and pixelated ducks used to be classified as "video game violence"

A Guest!... or show a civi to work day (sort of)

So, as previously mentioned, Blake's cousin is coming down to visit. Very fun guy. We've had to reschedule his trip twice because of... well... what else? The Navy. Anyway, he's coming tomorrow, and the Navy can't stop him.

As part of the military, there are SO many opportunities. Lots of free or cheap things to do to entertain out-of-towners. True, every day won't be Mardi Gras, but we've got some fun things lined up.

As with Blake's sister's visit, we have a list of awesome, free things to do. Luckily, it's nice weather out and warm enough to visit the beaches on base. I could spend entire days lounging in the sand. Of course, the Aviation Museum at NAS Pensacola is not to be missed. I mean, it's fascinating and 100% free! Also, the Blue Angels are once again practicing. On certain mornings, free of charge, you can sit in the bleachers and watch. There's also an autograph session after.

As for things we'll have to pay for, we're going canoeing at NAS Whiting Field, courtesy of the MWR over there. There's a small fee for that, but it's less than renting from other companies along the Blackwater river.

Pensacola beach, which is $1 (to get across the bridge). I'd never even seen a picture of it before we moved here. I'd heard the sand was white, but I never expected it to be so pristine and the water is the most beautiful, tropical blue color.

The annual Elberta German Sausage Festival is free to attend, but they charge for food. It's kind of like a town fair. It will also allow my husband and his cousin a few day's worth of sausage-related humor. As you can imagine, that is the part I'm most looking forward to....

It's nice to have company, just another person to chill out with, sit on the sun porch and have a beer.

Keeping Busy

Best laid plans and all that... I intended to do so much today. Blake's cousin is visiting us this week and though he probably doesn't care if the apartment is spotless (he's a man), I care. Instead of cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, I laid on the couch all day reading books... and sniffling... and being miserable. That's just the way it goes sometimes. You have everything all planned out and the universe points it little finger BAM! oh well.

On the up side, Blake brought me soup and water and blankies all day.

Tomorrow, though, I'm cleaning this place. Sick or not.

I usually clean on Saturdays, but yesterday we were busy buying the TV of our dreams. Forty-two inches of LCD heaven and a beautiful new TV-stand. *sigh* I do love technology. It's a lesson in patience, though, as our Xbox 360 is on its way back from the xbox hospital. We have this beautiful new TV and no way to watch or play anything on it. Oh well. The 360 comes back Tuesday. We get COD World at War tomorrow... and in a few weeks we're buying a PS3 so we can watch Blu-Ray, stream TV and movies and well... endless possibilities.

When it comes to cooking, decorating and just about anything other than technology, my frugal side always wins. When it comes to gadgets, my husband has an easy time talking me into things. We won't be spending our entire refund, but we'll definitely be unloading a good portion of it. Plus we've got some money coming from our move to Pensacola.

In other news, Blake starts Primary on the 30th. We thought he would have at least a few weeks off, but with the new push to hurry people through flight school, everything's on a faster track. The pool of students waiting around, getting paid only to muster in the morning was getting ridiculously large.

So, this week is kind of his last hurrah before six months of work-hard, work-hard. Luckily, his cousin is coming down so Blake can make the most of his free week.

Congratulations!

He did it! Yesterday, the hubby graduated API. In typical man fashion, he acts like it's no big deal, but that's okay. My enthusiasm for everything is akin to a sugar-loaded class of second graders on a trip to Hershey Park.

In Love

I need to dedicate a post to that loveliest of lovelies... the slow-cooker. I love that thing. It's like a magic cauldron, you put in anything and in five hours, it comes out tasting like pure awesomeness.

Today it's potatoes, onion, carrots, chicken thighs, fresh rosemary and chicken broth. It makes the whole house smell like heaven.

I'm a pretty good cook, but for someone who doesn't know how to boil water, the slow-cooker is a God send. Taco soup, chili, chicken and dumplings, roasts, turkey, anything.

If you don't own one. Get one. You can thank me later.

------
Here is one of my favorites:

Sweet n' Tangy Chicken
from Taste of Home, which my Great Aunt Hannah gave me (emphasis on the word 'great')
Serves 4

1 med. onion, chopped
1½ tsp. minced garlic
4 chicken thighs (or 1 broiler chicken cut up, or chicken breasts, or whatever else!)
2/3 c. ketchup
1/3 c. packed brown sugar
1 tblsp. chili powder
1 tblsp. lemon juice
1 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
1/8 tsp. hot pepper sauce
2 tblsp. corn starch
3 tblsp. cold water

In slow cooker, combine onion and garlic; top with chicken. In a small bowl, combine ketchup, brown sugar, chili powder, lemon juice, basil, salt, pepper and pepper sauce; pour over chicken

Cover and cook on low for 4½-5 hours or until chicken juices run clear. Remove chicken and keep warm.

Transfer cooking juices to a saucepan. Combine cornstarch and water until smooth; stir into juices. Bring to a boil; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened. Serve over chicken
-----

The power of the slow-cooker. I don't often have Tabasco sauce on hand, so I use red pepper flake or cayenne. Sometimes I use garlic powder. This barbecue sauce is a lot like my grandma's (brown sugar, ketchup) and it just tastes like... my childhood.

I have enough sauce left over for the next night to pour over hamburgers or hot dogs.

Talk about your whine and cheese...

See that little thing? It may not look like much, but my friends, that is a tomato. Three, in fact. The other plant has the tiniest of tiny buds too. Yes, it will still take weeks and because of our screened in porch, I'm going to have to do a little AI (read: artificial insemination) on the plants.

.excited.

Also, I got a picture in the mail of four of my nieces and nephews. It is a beautiful picture that brought tears to my eyes. They look so old and grown up. Still, I love the picture. Being so far from family is hard. Thank God for e-mail, phones and the USPS.

I really needed a pick-me-up too.

Blake and I decided to use our tax refund money to take his car to the shop for a tune-up and whatever work needed to be done. Well, bad news. The bottom of the car is so rusted from the winters up North that basically... the engine may fall out. Whoops. There's already more than a grand of work put into it... which is okay because we have the money.

Now, we're waiting. Do we fix it or do we cut our losses? It's a bummer... but we're okay.

We're happy. We have enough monies. I made a delicious pork chop dinner tonight.

Flowers!

Our tomato plants are for real! This past week or so, the weather has been really warm and beautifully sunny, about 75 or so every day. One of our tomato plants has two flower buds! Yay! Tomatoes to follow!

What a great day.

Plus the little lizard guy visited me again. Then, he re-visited when Blake was home... somehow he got inside the sun porch. We watched him change from green to brown. He isn't there anymore, but he was very cute while he was around. He eyed us with his googly eyes.

The Visitor

A gecko came to visit me today while I was writing on the sun porch. Also, seven wasp-like creatures, which I mercilessly put to death.

Ah, Sunday

Another blissfully uneventful day in Pensacola, FL. What did I do all day? I can't say for sure... I know I watched "Sex and the City," and therefore, saw Cynthia Nixon's baby pillows. I watched "Up Close and Personal" yet again, though I don't know why I do that to myself. If you haven't seen it, please don't, because you will cry your freaking eyes out (like I do). Blake was very concerned when he saw I was almost sobbing by my computer. No, no, honey, don't worry, it's just Michelle Pfieffer and Robert Redford.

Blake and I made pizza dough last night. I couldn't for the life of me find pre-made pizza dough in the commissary or Wal-Mart (seriously, what gives, Florida?). So, I got home and decided to make a yeast-less crust. I'll admit, I was kind of grumpy. I blame PMS. Blake was tolerating it with wonderful patience.

So, I wrote down the recipe and we went to the kitchen and I wasn't really paying attention because, you know, I had to nurse the thundercloud over my head (not nurse like... nurse... but... whatever, you know what I mean). So I put in a tablespoon and a half of baking soda. Blake said, "how much baking soda?" and I said, "a tablespoon and a half" and he said, "oh." Into the oven it went. WOW. Have you ever tasted something with too much baking soda in it?

worst . taste . ever

So, I took the toppings off it and put it on top of tortilla chips. It was pretty good, but I felt bad for screwing things up. Blake told me he probably wouldn't have liked it anyway because he doesn't like "bready" pizzas. For some reason, it only made me feel worse that I screwed up something he wouldn't have liked. The mind is so perverse.

Today, Blake said, "if you were a pizza, what would you be? I would be a thin crust, white pizza and you would be... oh what do they call it? A personal pan."

Rainy, but Beautiful

or... Because of Winn-Dixie, not the dog, not the book, but the grocery store

Wonderful day today. It started with the mood-brightening sleeping in. True, it was only until 9:00, but it felt good.

Next, lunch at Quizno's. For those of you who don't know, they recently did the Million Sub Giveaway. Basically, if you didn't register for it within the first four or five days, you missed out. A free small sub. So, Blake and I headed down to our local shop and got our free subs, which were extremely tasty. May I just say that Quizno's is a million times better than Subway? Their food quality if so much better.

Then, I went to the library, which is one of my favorite things ever. The one closest to me is a branch library on the Pensacola Junior College campus. It's not very large, but books are books! I spent an hour in there, just perusing the shelves. It was great... and I got seven books out. They do four weeks, which is just plain awesome.

Then, I went to Wal-Mart for Blake and then, to Winn-Dixie.

I'm from New York State. We do not have Winn-Dixie grocery stores. Our best stores are Wegman's... and what stores they are. *sigh* I do love Wegman's and I miss them terribly, truth be told. Well, today I did my first serious shopping at Winn-Dixie and I am very impressed. The prices, the food, not that much different from Shaw's or Publix (which we also don't have in the north), but the deals! The deals were absolutely astronomically, orgasmically, beautifully beautiful.

Their buy one, get one deals were the best I have ever seen. I got eight jars of Classico pasta sauce , two packages of pork chops, two packages of chicken thighs, two bundles of broccolli, two bags of tilapia, pasta on sale, cheap tuna, sale milk, and cheap Parm-Romano cheese.

I saved $35 with all my sale items. I was in heaven.

To round out the day, last night, Blake and I made chocolate-chip-oatmeal-raisin-cookies. I found a recipe that is hands down, the best cookie recipe I've ever found. Yes, like all other recipes, it could use a little tweaking of amounts, but they're tasty. They also look like a picture in a book, like those expensive cookies they charge you four bucks a pop for at Starbucks.

Now, I'm going to play video games until I make myself motion sick (approx. 30 mins) and then read. Yes, I am having a very good day indeed

p.s.
This motion-sickness thing is creepy. I used to be very, very sensitive to first-person video games when I first started playing, though I've never been sick on anything but a roller coaster in my life. After awhile, my body learned to deal with the video game movements. Then, I received Quantum of Solace and man, it's like being a noob again... thirty minutes tops.

A "busy" weekend

Though I didn't get out much last weekend, I was still busy. No one was more surprised about this than me. I always have a thousand ideas running through my head... things I should do, but... you know the rest of the story.

Friday we went grocery shopping. Friday night is now all about the O Club. It's hard to resist free appetizers between five and six... and of course, the company of friends. Though, Blake and his friends talk about things that are roughly the Empire State Building-level above my head. It's still fun. I like hearing all that technical talk... maybe I'll slip up and learn something one of these days.

Saturday I lugged all of my scrapbooking stuff out of the closet and got to work. Wow. I didn't realize how seriously behind I was. I'm a disgrace. I hadn't scrapbooked the wedding or anything after that. Once I sat down, I was amazed by how many events I wanted recorded for posterity. Moving, moving again, Tiegen's visit, Blue Angels Homecoming, sailing, the beach, Christmas, our garden... and who knows what I will want to scrap in the future?

I feel that I accomplished quite a lot though. As a reward, I cleaned off the kitchen table and we actually ate on it tonight.

Just Plain Cute

Let me tell you about Sadie, my almost 3-year-old niece. She is adorable... and she knows it.


note: her OCD arrangement of a brand new tea set

When we visited in December, to my supreme happiness, she remembered me. We played tag, we hugged, we kissed, general merriment ensued. Blake, though... well, she was still kind of shy around him. You know, cute, little-girl shyness.

That's when we found out about her nervous twitch. We would encourage her to give Blake a hug. She would make shy eyes at him, put her chin on her shoulder and sing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. Actually, she would sing the words "twinkle, twinkle, little star" over and over to the actual tune until she felt comfortable enough to just back out of the situation. From then on, I would encourage her to interact with Blake just so I could see the weirdest nervous habit ever.

Eventually, she got used to him.


Blake asks for more tea

Today I get a call on the drive to work (temp job). I am proud to announce that she has learned the rest of the words to "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" and it is the cutest phone conversation I've ever had.

Adventures in Bread

Frugality, epicurean snobbery, living through my stomach/taste buds... yes, yes and definitely yes.

Sunday is baking day. Here is what I did:



Meet my bread. Three loaves, all from my now-beloved sourdough starter. The two outside loaves are plain sandwich bread. The inside one is cinnamon raisin. Behold!



I didn't put in enough raisins... or enough cinnamon. As I was putting it in the loaf pan I thought to myself, "oh crap, this rises again." Meaning: I put in enough extras after I kneaded it, but before it bakes, it rises again until doubled, which means that technically, I have to put in twice as many raisins and stuff. That being said, it's still ultra-tasty and makes awesome breakfast toast.

There is only one more bagel left and Blake loves cinnamon raisin toast. Bread is easier than bagels... trust me. Oh, here's a picture of the bagels I made last weekend:




They were tasty. Though by the end of the week, I was bagel-ed out. Actually, I think I was just sick of all the chewing that went into consuming them. Bagels are so dense.

Bread is easier to chew... and today's loaves made the apartment smell amazing!

Bread

I'm doing it. I'm making my own bread. I wasn't sure about it. I mean, it's only marginally (if at all) cheaper than buying bread. Yes, it's much healthier, but frankly... very time consuming.

I, however, have lots of time to make bread. Also, one taste of the homemade bread and I am a complete gone-er. I'm buying more bread pans this weekend, plans to make three loaves at once.

Now, I don't know if I mentioned my previously failed homemade-bagel incident. It was a sourdough bagel recipe, but I think my starter was effed up. They were... well... hockey pucks. They sat like rocks in my stomach (and Blake's) for the entire night.

Last weekend, I used traditional, packet yeast to make bagels. They didn't have the flavor of sourdough, but they certainly are tasty.

The bread though, is from the starter. Awesome. Smaller than a store-bought loaf, but more bread I think. The store bought loaves are 80% air I think. The homemade bread is dense, and the sourdough flavor is so subtle and tasty.

So, let's see how long this homemade bread trend last. I hope forever.

Officially Old

There is one song, and only one, that makes me cry every single freakin' time I hear it. That is "His Only Need" by Wynona. It's a story of a man who finds his true love. Each time I listen, in under five minutes, I feel like I know these people. Like they're real, with feelings and love and children. That's why I cry.

Tonight, at 7:30p.m. I am officially an old woman, or at least middle-aged. I cried when I heard "Somewhere Other Than the Night" by Garth Brooks. Yes, a Garth Brooks song made me cry. Geez. Here are the lyrics:

He could see the storm clouds rollin' across the hill
He barely beat the rain in from the field
And between the backdoor slammin' she heard him say
"Damn this rain and damn this wasted day"
But she'd been waitin' for this day for oh so long
She was standin' in the kitchen with nothin' but her apron on
And in disbelief he stood and he stared a while
When their eyes met, they both began to smile

Somewhere other than the night
She needs to hear I love you
Somewhere other than the night
She needs to know you care
She wants to know she's needed
She needs to be held tight
Somewhere other than the night

They spent the day wrapped up in a blanket
On the front porch swing
He'd come to realize he'd neglected certain things
And there are times she feels alone even by his side
It was the first time she ever saw him cry

Somewhere other than the night
She needs to hear I love you
Somewhere other than the night
She needs to know you care
She wants to know she's needed
She needs to be held tight
Somewhere other than the night

To know she's needed
She needs to be held tight
Somewhere other than the night

Reading the lyrics like a poem, they're plainly cheesy, but there is something about the melody that just lets the words weave their way through the notes and it's so beautiful.

What really gets me is that it's not a make-you-cry-song. I don't cry when I hear "100 years" by Five for Fighting, and that is certainly more emotional.

Now, I want to clarify that I did not cry because Blake doesn't ever tell me he loves me. I didn't cry because I feel underappreciated or because he doesn't want anything from me but, um, certain things.

I felt like an old, married woman as the first tears welled up in my eyes.

Man alive. Sometimes I'm way too emotional.

Cheap Valentine's Day

I have my Valentine's Day plans... in my head. They involve my husband, a home-cooked steak and a movie.

One of my favorite spots, Wise Bread has all sorts of ideas for Valentine's Day. Gifts under $10, free gifts and ideas for cheapies like me. I came upon a list of Frugal Valentine's Gifts. I really enjoyed some of them. Then I came to #8: Write a Song. Unless you're Elton John, you're love song is more likely to be hilariously cheesy than soul-wrenchingly beautiful.

I can just picture the kind of song Blake would write for me. Let's see.... what rhymes with booty? Just kidding.

It reminds me of the Hugh Grant/Drew Barrymore movie "Music & Lyrics." Have you seen it? There are two songs that are sung by the main characters that both describe their relationship and their individual feelings. They are cheesy, but there's something about them that's really, truly touching. Hugh Grant doesn't have much of a singing voice, but the songs are more about the truth of love than gushing about beautiful eyes and flowing hair and slender gams and other such things.

Blake once wrote me a poem for Valentine's Day. I won't publish it here. It's copyrighted... which is to say, he would be embarassed if I let everyone see it. He wrote it freshman year of college. Suffice to say it was... well... like "Music & Lyrics," a romantic comedy. So here is my Valentine's Day Poem.

Don't
by Joy

Don't buy me dinners that cost more than a horse.
Don't take me to a movie that is rude and is coarse.
Don't buy me a field's worth of flowers.
Don't try to woo me with your magical powers.
Don't ask me to marry you, we already are.

Don't forget to kiss me extra sweet.
Don't forget to rub my feet.
Don't forget that I love you more than all.
Don't forget to bring the Luminol
Don't ignore me on Valentine's Day
or bad things will happen to you
hence, the bringing of Luminol.

Decor

Apartment living renting is interesting. We can't paint and we think thrice about putting holes in the wall. Today, one of my greatest fears came true. We became victims of the Firing Squad. The Firing Squad is when all of your furniture lines the walls like its being lined up to die.

Really, it's just the entertainment center and desk that are standing shoulder-to-shoulder, ready to face down the gun barrels, but still, they're two large, major furniture pieces. So, I'm trying to work around it.

We just moved the desk into the living area. Blake has lots of studying to do now and we figured that he could have a desk in the bedroom and have a media/electronics-free zone. He liked the idea. He gets to concentrate. Frankly, being unplugged scares me to death. I blame Syracuse University. I never had high-speed before college... now I'm ruined for life.

Anyway, he's studying and I'm... blogging... and contemplating the space around me. The things that keep me sane are baskets. When we first got married, one of my first purchases were "stuff baskets." Since Blake and I had dated (attached at the hip) for five or so years, I knew his habits. I knew that if I didn't give him a place to put his things, I would have to help him hunt for keys and play the "honey where" game a million times a day.

Of course, stuff baskets are dangerous. They can become the dreaded catch-all, which ends of being less of a time-saver and more of a pit-of-crap. Once in awhile, I weed out his stuff basket. I don't have a stuff basket anymore. I needed it for the living room to keep the remotes in. But I still keep baskets everywhere. One by the front door for keys, the aforementioned remote basket, bread basket, book basket.

When I got married, I believe I got no less than four wicker baskets of varying shades and shapes. I thought, "what the heck am I going to do with these freakin' baskets?" Now, I find myself wishing I had more... that I could basket-ize the whole apartment.

Man, I'm such a freak.

Feeling Better

I like doing things that make me feel like a better person. I feel guilty about that. There is a big difference between doing things for the sake of being a better person and doing things so you can feel like a better person. But where is the distinction?

Take the herb garden for instance. That is something that, I feel, in a small way makes me a better person. I'm not doing it to make myself feel good.

Working out is something I do to make myself feel like a better person. Sometimes, I'm ashamed to say, I feel smug after a particularly good workout.

On another note, I've decided to try making my own bread. Temping means my jobs are spotty so I have the time and baking bread is (marginally) cheaper, but vastly healthier than buying bread. Today I tried bagels. Didn't turn out so well. I "caught" wild yeast and tried the old-fashioned method using this article. I really enjoyed the process, but my bagel dough didn't rise worth crap. I don't think I gave the "sponge" phase enough time.

But I'm not losing heart. I have a husband who dearly loves bagels and I dearly love him. So, I'll give it another shot because frankly, bagels are expensive. Even though he pronounces it ˈbāgel... crazy kid.

Apartment Garden

Another stab at expanding horizons. Another frugality, "things-adults-do" experiment.

Blake and I bought plants today. Observe:



Rosemary in the green and parsley in the cream. We also are starting oregano, basil, jalapeno peppers, bell peppers and habanero peppers from seeds. So, you'll either hear happy updates on our "children" from now on or whiney complaining about their slow demise.

Nevertheless, I'm optimistic. What can I say? It's my nature. Damn optimism always pushing its way to the front of my conscious.

On another note, we're all moved in to our new apartment. The other apartment was too big, and it felt all wrong for Blake and me. Three bedrooms, large living/dining... there was to much empty space. This one bedrooms... it just fits. We've both said several times that this apartment feels like us.

So, new apartment, new plants... I know it's cheesy, but it's a new start for a new year.

I even made New Year's Resolutions. Disgusting, but hopefully effective.

In Appreciation

Since I'm out of work and have nothing else to do, usually I wake up with my husband and go with him every morning. He musters (reports in) and then we go to the gym together. Usually, we're at the gym by eight. This morning, though, his muster ran a bit longer and I saw in the car while they played reville.

Every morning at eight, they raise American flags and every night at five, they take them down, each time playing the Star Spangled Banner. Outside, everyone stops what they are doing. People in uniform salute the flag, no matter how busy they are, they stop.

I love this ritual. I love traditions like this, especially ones with such purpose. It probably becomes just another duty after awhile. I'm sure people gripe and mumble about having to stop everything. Some people even pull their cars over to the side of the road until the anthem is over.

But I like to think that at least some people, take that moment, every morning/evening, to be grateful.

It's kind of like prayer. At first, praying is kind of a chore. You do it because you have to... and then, you find out (or at least I did) that you kind of like it. Then, it's not just another thing to check off your mental list. It's comforting. It's wonderful. It makes you appreciate life a little more and you do it without thinking.

This morning, reville reminded me to be thankful.