Monday, November 12, 2012

So This Is Actually Happening.......

I previously mentioned that my family and I are scheduled to move this winter.  Well, that move is set for right before Christmas.  For those of you playing at home, Christmas is a mere 6 weeks away.  Two weeks ago I realized that this move was actually happening and it was happening in less than 2 months.

Something out of the ordinary happened.  I got overwhelmed and totally shut down.  I didn't do dishes, I didn't do laundry, I didn't go grocery shopping, I didn't even attempt to tackle any one of the million things on my "to do" list.  Even personal projects that I, by all means, enjoy doing laid unattended to. All I have done for the past couple weeks is find excuses to leave the house and dick around on the internet.  Really, about the only thing I can say I have accomplished is that I have tended to our child.

This is not the usual way of things for me.  Normally I relish the whole moving process.  There are few things I love more than the feeling of "putting out fires."  Having a series of problems that require critical thinking and organization to solve them is really where I shine.  I kind of nerd out about it.  There are usually folders and color coding and timelines and pros/cons lists and I love every geeky second of it.

I think I may have just found my breaking point this time.  Usually our moves are pretty straight forward.  Pack up ourselves, the pets, and all our stuff.  Leave one place, arrive in the new place.  Easy.  This time we are taking that status quo, adding a baby, moving over the holidays, and renting out the condo we are currently living in.

Thankfully, this week I finally snapped out of it.  Not sure why or how, but I did.  Over the past two days my husband and I have accomplished more than we have in the past month.  We now have a property manager, have some definitive financial plans for this whole ordeal, we started putting together a listing for our condo, and started getting some of our Christmas "to do"s squared away.

We just might be able to pull all this off after all.  

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Spontaneity

Something amazing happened this weekend.

We went on a real, honest-to-goodness, spontaneous outing.  Not just a quick run out for coffee to one of our usual haunts but randomly dropping our plans for staying in on Saturday and going out instead.  Considering we have a 4 month old, this was kind of a milestone moment for me.


On Saturday morning I happened to notice a posting on Facebook that one of our favorite local brewery, Holy City, was tasting what they were calling "Pollenator II".  It was a Belgian Style Blonde made with honey from another local company.  How do you say "no" to that?  So my husband and I just up and decided to go.  We showered, grabbed lunch, fed the kid, and left.



Our little one has been quite the sport since day one enduring a couple huge road trips and his first flight within his first 3 months of life on the outside, but it has taken us a little while to get in synch with the all the extra considerations that go into leaving the house with a baby.  It seems we are always about to leave the house then remember we should probably feed/change the baby, or both.  Then that tacks on an extra 20 - 45 minutes on our leave time.  Sometimes that is enough to just abort an outing all together.

But not Saturday.

Success.





 

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Wisdom, Teeth, Wisdom Teeth & The Big 3 - 0

This past week I discovered a wisdom tooth rearing it's ugly head in the back of my mouth.  When I realized this tooth was erupting, I freaked out a little, but not really for the reasons you would think.  Sure having wisdom teeth removed is kind of a drag.  I had one pulled a few years ago.  It wasn't particularly fun.  Additionally, having to potentially undergo oral surgery complete with its sedatives and pain killers while nursing a baby seems like it would have its additional obstacles.  But here is what really bothered me.  I found that exposed little bit of tooth and I got pissed.  I got pissed because every dentist I have seen for the past 5 years or so has gotten progressively more and more confident that my upper wisdom teeth will never come in.  Why?  Because generally if they don't come in by 27 years of age they just never show up and I am almost........oh shit........I am almost 30.  I'll turn 30 in six months, if you want to be specific.

Now anyone that knows me can vouch for the fact that I am generally not a big birthday person.  It's not that I believe they aren't important.  I just have a hard time remembering them and I don't particularly like the idea of arbitrarily drawing attention to myself.  But this is 30.  This is the first big milestone birthday that just marks you getting older without any additional privileges.  I can already drive, vote, drink and rent a car.

Conveniently, my husband and I both have spring birthdays that we can celebrate together so right away I started mentally outlining a whole weekend full of poor decisions and general debauchery worthy of saying au revoir to my twenties.  But wait.  We have kid.....

We could find a sitter.

So one night.  One night, and one night only of poor decisions and general debauchery!

But lets face it.  After about 9 months of no drinking and the extra months of limiting and monitoring any alcohol I drink due to nursing, I have become a cheap date.  And Nick has been coaching at a Crossfit gym, competing with said gym and therefore eating like an athlete.  So by default he has been living it up about as infrequently as I have.

So, 3 drinks and in bed by 11pm!

*Sigh*

But I am hopeful.  Thus far every time I have anticipated my life taking a course toward being a little boring or feeling like I might be restricted to home and routine, I have been proved quite wrong.

So fingers crossed, here's to 30 (and fewer hangovers).




Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Reboot

I started this blog back in the fall of 2009.  I started writing it as a coping mechanism.  My husband had been assigned to a job with an intense work schedule.  We were moving to a part of the country where I felt a little like a square peg.  And above all, I was unemployed; unemployed in the worst way.

After nearly a decade of working retail (either over summers, part-time as an associate, or full time as a manager) I was burnt out in a way that begets crazy cat ladies or people that spend all their time building model trains in their basement.  I was always tired.  I had no circadian rhythm.  And, while I had friends, I hated people as a general rule.  There was no going back to customer service for me.

That left me and my communications BA in a town whose economy thrives on tourism (hospitality, retail and food & beverage) and government contracting (engineers) with no idea what to do.  So my husband and made a choice to live simply and I embraced that unemployment.  I read, I learned to bake, I started practicing yoga, I started running, and I routinely wrote this blog.

Then, a weird thing happened.

I accidentally got a job.

It was a real adult job, where I was thrown in a cubicle, had a badge, and I was just one of thousands of workers.  With this real adult job came a real adult income.  So my husband and I were able to try all sorts of restaurants, go to festivals, and travel with a frequency that seems pathological.  (In 2010 I planned a trip to Prince Edward Island on a whim.  Most people call their spouses and suggest a new place to try for dinner.  I called my husband and was all like, "Hey you wanna go to Canada in a couple months?")  This blog fell victim to our hectic lives.

The job, the incessant travel, the general life of little accountability was wonderful, but not sustainable.  I never expected it to be.

There have been a lot of changes for us in the past few months, almost all of them having in some way to do with this little guy.....

  
As so frequently seems to happen in life, I feel like we have come full circle.  We are preparing to move again in a few short months.  I am unemployed.  Once again I turn to this little corner of the internet to help structure my week and keep my brain from turning to mush.

So,

If you know me personally, hello and thanks for clicking on this link.

If you are surprised to see this entry on your blog roll, thanks for keeping me around.

If you happened to have stumbled upon this page by pure circumstance, welcome.

The journey begins again....


Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Zen and the Art of Arguing on the Road.

I recently went to a bridal shower. For those of you that may be of the "less fair" sex, allow me to explain that any sort of "shower" usually involves some sort of obligatory ice breaker type game. Not usually my cup of tea, but rules is rules, right? At this bridal shower all the guest were also supposed to provide the bride with a piece of advice to help her achieve everlasting wedded bliss. Thankfully, someone from the other corner of the room yelled, "These can be funny, right?"


So here was my piece of not-so-sage wisdom:

Your biggest fights can become you best stories.


Back in early summer of 2009 my husband and I relocated with our pets from Seattle to San Diego. This is roughly a 20 hour drive. We decided it would logistically be best to break the trip up into 3 days of driving. We would stay near the southern border of Oregon (Ashland) and then in San Francisco before making it to San Diego. Now San Diego was just a 3 month stint for my husband. We decided to live in our friend's spare room so we had packed 3 months worth of stuff while all our other worldly possessions went into storage. So to recap:

1 Me + 1 Husband + 1 Dog + 1 Pissed Cat + 3 Months worth of shit = Once packed Mini Cooper.

That's right friends, we drive a mini cooper. And a packed Mini Cooper it was. So packed, in fact that when we got to Oregon we discovered the trunk latch was no longer functional. That is when things got bad.

We were running late and trying to re-engineer our overnight bags into the truck of the car, but couldn't seem to get the trunk to latch. We kept shoving at boxes and shifting the smaller squishy items but to no avail. We are starting to run late. Then we realize that the trunk latch isn't catching. After about another 20 minutes my husband troubleshoots the situation and figures out that if he uses a screwdriver to manually close the latch and we don't use the key fob to open the trunk, but open the trunk by hand, then the latch will work properly.

Something you should know about me. I love rules. I love protocol. I love when things work properly. If they don't work properly I am 100% convinced it is only a matter of moments before they break in a catastrophic way.

Something you should know about my husband. The only time he is ever short tempered in an irrational way is when he gets hot and sweaty when he isn't supposed to be. For example, getting hot while working out, okay; getting hot while trying to repack a car mid morning in June on a beautiful sunny day in Oregon, definitely NOT okay.

I insist that we continue to repack the trunk to try and prevent any extra pressure again the hatch. I just kept imagining driving down the interstate and suddenly our trunk door just giving way while we are driving, leaving a trail of boxes and pets in our wake. I perhaps go a little overboard here. I climb in the trunk and essentially start trying to repack our tetris game of a car. Nick tries to reason with me. There is no reasoning. I am quickly approaching panic mode. Finally, looses his patience and rams the screwdriver he is still holding into a box. I instantly flip out. I accuse him of trying to stab me in the leg with the screwdriver. (The screwdriver was no where near my leg). He accuses me of overreacting (I totally was). And in what is truly my classiest moment I told him I would show him overreacting and proceeded to start throwing boxes out of the trunk and at my husband.

In retrospect, I kinda hope someone was watching otherwise I feel like that little bit of humanity would have gone to waste. I like to think that another hotel guest heard us and started watching what transpired from their window, then called their spouse into the room to watch. I know that is what I would have done.

I ended up storming off and going up to the hotel room and fuming for about 20 minutes and then realized what a jackass I was. The rest of our trip was really nice. There were no catastrophes. Our trunk didn't explode on the highway. We had a great time actually.

Years later now we still reference and joke about that fight frequently. It is one oh my favorite married stories. Few things show love more sincerely than being able to fly off the handle at each other in public and then be able to laugh about a few hours later, right?

Monday, August 22, 2011

I miss my sweaters.

Fall used to be my favorite season.

However, now I live in a part of the country where fall months are actually just an extension of summer, only with more rain.  And hurricanes.  A billboard told me today that hurricane season lasts until November 30.  What sort of crap is that?

So apparently I need to readjust my thinking and just say that winter is my favorite season.  Which just doesn't sound right, but whatever.

All I am really trying to get at is this; it is August 22.  It should NOT be 90 degrees and muggy.  The weather should be leaning towards this.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Pork

I almost had a small conniption fit at work yesterday because of this.

Some of you may remember that in October of last year Nick and I randomly went to Prince Edward Island , Canada.  Apparently there is just something about the months of August, September, and October that just make me want to get the hell out of town.  I would blame the ungodly heat and humidity of South Carolina, but in all fairness, I think most of our vacations have taken place in the fall, no matter where we were living at the time.

At any rate, I was at work thinking about how great that trip was.  How nice it was to need a jacket.  Then, I remembered we ate at this restaurant, Lot 30.  It was pretty much one of the nicest restaurants in town.  And I kinda get the impression that isn't saying a whole ton.  I am pretty sure that PEI is not really known for it's food culture and during the off season there are whole towns that just don't exist because there aren't tourists to populate them.  But this place was really good.  So good, in fact, that we went there twice in the 5 days we were in town.  The dish that really got us was this pork belly they served.  It was a miracle in food.  The pork meat was moist while the outside was slightly crispy and slightly caramelized, while the entire thing was swimming in a flavorful au jus.  It was life-changing.  We talk about it often.

So while reminiscing at work I found their website and noticed they had listed a recipe on their website? Awesome.  I mean how many restaurants do that?  So I click on the link and it is the recipe for the MOTHER-LOVIN PORK BELLY!!!!!!!!!

Soooooo.......I have a hot date with my butchershop and my kitchen next weekend.  I can't wait!