Last night's mini crisis has averted. I seem to have the rebound rate of a three year old child. I get all worked up about something and fifteen minutes later I can't even remember what I was upset about. This trait tends to drive most people in my life completely crazy as I lose interest in arguments about one-third of the way through. Thank you for your kind words and support! Truthfully, not moving is not an option. I will most certainly be in Minneapolis in the fall and have never regretted this choice. That doesn't necessarily mean it's always easy though.
A few little tid bits for today. Don't count on Tuseday tid bits becoming a trend because I can hardly commit to blogging every Tuesday.
Um, I love Fleet Week. I want Fleet Week to turn into Fleet Month. There are few things more wonderful than clean cut 18 year old boys walking around in uniform. I have to practice restraint when I am around them. While marrying a cowboy is my first dream, marrying a rough and tough Army guy is my second. Apparently I got a thing for a man's man. Those uniforms? Bow chicka wow wow. (Porter, take notice.) ((Just kidding siblings, parents, and grandparents. Don and Jill, I know you can handle that.))
Today there was a homeless man on the corner trying to find a good home for stray pets. I've decided that if he is still there when I go home, I will be bringing one of his pups home with me. They're cute. I like dogs. Porter's going to kill me. So is my Dad. My poor Dad has had to deal with me bringing home one too many dogs.
Actually, the one thing that is really holding me back from taking one of those dogs home is the fact that my BULLDOG will be MINE in about a month. Holy dear cowabunga me. I still need to pick out a girl's name.
Guess what's happening on New York from Thursday to Sunday? The Wilkerson children will be visiting their big sister's tiny box for 'kids camp'. That's what we're calling it. There will be rides on the new pirate ship at South Street Seaport, a Mets game, a trip to the American Girl Doll Store (I'm secretly excited), and maybe a trip or two to Central Park. It is very likely that all four of us (only the little kids are coming - the big kids have to work) will be sleeping in the same bed. I can't wait!
And the final Tuesday tid bit. In three short weeks, I will be living a life of leisure once again. Granted, I'll be working 40+ hours a week still but it will be doing something I enjoy! I'm back to the restaurant life. Serving tables and making money. I am thrilled. I'm fortunate to work for an incredible boss with all of my best friends for the entire summer. We've all worked together every summer for quite some time. Our customers are fantastic and I have a whole new appreciation for the restaurant world - it's far better than the desk world! I can't wait to get back to the lake! (See what I mean about the rebound rate.)
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
What If...
What if this one choice, this one move to Minneapolis and away from the person I love, ends up changing the whole path of my life. I'm more than happy with the path my personal life is on but my professional life is certainly not where I want to be.
I can't shake this what if feeling. This is one of those times where I really want a crystal ball to see how it all works out before I have to live through it.
I can't shake this what if feeling. This is one of those times where I really want a crystal ball to see how it all works out before I have to live through it.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The Farm
I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned this before, but I grew up on a farm. I don't fall exactly into the stereotypical 'farm girl Iowa' persona that most people expect of someone who grew up in rural Iowa, but I'm not real far from it either.
Until 7th grade, we lived in town. Our front yard was smack dab in the middle of town and our back yard was acres and acres of land and river and horses. I was quite similar to our house. Some days, I was a town girl. Riding my bike to the pool with my friends and skipping to the YMCA with a quick stop at the park 'snake' on my way. But other days, I was a farm girl. I'd spend hours out in the barn with the horses. I loved pretending to be Lewis and Clark with my best friend Ashley. We'd walk for hours, looking at beavers and ducks and pee out in the middle fo the field because we didn't want to have to come in. Eventually, we'd get tired, stumble upon the horses and ride them back to the house.
I was in 4-H. I showed horses. We had a huge farm out of town but only spent Sunday's driving through fields of cattle and screaming 'hummbabe' to encourage them to come up and eat. I spent very little time walking beans and detasseling back then. I didn't know how to cut alfalfa nor did I know how to rake it. I was much more of a farm girl than most of the city kids but was too city for the country kids.
And then in 8th grade, we moved to the country and everything came with. Cows, horses, chickens (sick, anyone who likes chickens is either lying or has never had to go in the coop and collect eggs while cackling chickens chase you around and flap their disgusting wings in your hair), cats, dogs, and fields were our playground. We also got lucky with a huge soccer field, large wrestling room, lots of go karts and snowmobiles and an indoor riding area. (I ask you, father, WHERE WAS MY POOL?)
The barn. With pretty girl Desie.
By 8th grade, I had already pretty well established what my high school hobbies would be. I was a swimmer. I played tennis. And I spent as much time watching/cheering for wrestling as I possibly could (it's in the blood - hard to explain). 4-H was certainly no longer an interest. My interest in spending time riding horses or talking to the cows slowed up. I didn't spend much time in the barn - usually only when I was punished and forced to scoop horse stalls for breaking curfew or talking to boys on the phone too late. My younger siblings though, they were all just developing their hobbies. And they are all cowgirls/cowboys.
By age 3, Daniel, the Cambodian cowboy, was bareback riding any horse he could find - often without supervision. Cara and Greg were constantly going to/coming from riding lessons and show lessons and there were dirty boots and spurs and bridles and halters all over the place. Matt would ride around on his favorite cow (also named Matt) and he spent hours in the barn, walking around, kicking manure, and hanging out. Kate convinced Dad to purchase chickens that lay colored eggs and she spent (and still spends) a LOT of time in that nasty, nasty coop.
I am a cowgirl by association. I've baled hay. (Of course, I often baled/loaded hay in cheerleading shorts which led to extremely bloody legs.) I've raked alfalfa. I've walked beans and detasseled corn. I've done morning chores. I've fed scramble calves and bottle fed calves. I've counted cattle in the middle of the hot summer. I've had my fair share of animals and in turn, lost a lot of them too.
But my whole time living in Iowa, I didn't really learn to appreciate the farm life. I preferred to drive around with Jamie, smoking cigarettes and singing songs as we drove past Cody's house (or whoever else was the love interest of choice at the time). I enjoyed spending time with my friends. I wanted to swim and play tennis. I escaped Sunday afternoon chores by doing anything else I could possibly do. I didn't want to be one of those 'country kids'. I wanted to be more city - wear trendy clothes, listen to hip music, be cool.
And now, I live in the biggest city in the country. New York City is certainly trendy, hip and cool. I long for the country. I look forward to going home and riding a horse. I can't wait to spend hours walking through cow barns, to help my siblings prepare their cow for show and then watch them stand next to those 1,000 pound beasts in the arena.
I'm thankful to have lived in New York City because it has taught me to appreciate things I never appreciated before. I'm a farm girl and I suppose I always have been. I can't wait to get back to green, green Iowa!
P.S. Porter, pretty please come with me!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Evolution of Arguments
I want to preface this post by saying that arguments in our 'household' are few and far between. Porter and I are both laid back and I have yet to hear him raise his voice at me. (The same can't be said of me - I'm sort of a yeller. It comes from years of trying to be heard in a 10 person family.)
But, like any couple, we do argue from time to time. In the beginning of our relationship, the arguments were typically drunken and we both woke up remembering only part of the argument. These were always minor and quickly forgotten. He would have left me at a bar and gone home before I was ready. Or forced me to walk really far in shoes that were killing my feet. Or eaten all of the pizza before I was able to have one single bite. Or tricked me into eating mustard on pretzels even though I HATE mustard! As I said - MINOR.
We don't fight about those things anymore. Ever.
After we were dating for a little while, the arguments changed once again. We were long distance (looooong distance - I was in Cambodia, he was in New York) and things came up that hadn't been an issue in the past. We would have little arguments about the timing of our calls. When I was out at night, he was sitting in a corporate office. The night the Buckeyes lost and he passed out in the subway stairs, I was blowing bubbles in the middle of the day with Cambodian kids using twist ties and soap with water. Our arguing was situational with a bit of frustration mixed in. Someone would have promised to call at 8 but due to some time difference mix up didn't call until 9 which resulted in no talking for the day. Things like that.
And yes, those fights are also long gone now.
When I first moved to New York, Porter and I had a lot of things to work out that most couples who had been together for a year had long ago worked out. We had bedtime schedules (Me? Early. Him? Late.) and cleaning schedules and side of the bed preferences. Surprisingly, trust issues kicked in for their first time a few months later. We had never really thought of the possibility of someone else as we were so focused on putting energy into making the distance work. That, and I doubt Porter was very worried about me meeting the man of my dreams considering I had INCHES on the whole entire country (not to mention pounds).
We would bicker over exes and their phones calls. We worked to determine what we deemed appropriate in regards to relationships with former loves. It was the first time that our arguments were very important to ourselves and the first time we felt passionately about our thoughts and opinions.
But, we soon got over that. Those fights are (usually) in the past.
Recently, our arguments revolve around a completely different subject. A subject that makes me feel old.
Porter and I bicker about money. We argue about when we should spend it and when we shouldn't. I enjoy meals out and rarely think of the consequences. In turn, I don't often shop and save big purchases for birthdays and Christmases. We both agree that travel is an area we enjoy spending money but we can't decide on WHERE to travel. I've done all the third world countries. He has done all of Europe. I've been to Central America. He's been on cruises. We grocery shop and at the end I will say, "wow, that wasn't so bad" and he will reply with, "I was expecting to spend at least $40 less."
We're working on getting on the same page and it is an interesting evolution to look back on arguments and their topics. And truthfully, we are great communicators and I rarely worry about the affect these small arguments will have on our relationship.
I'm interested though, what arguments come next? And what topiocs do other couples argue about?
But, like any couple, we do argue from time to time. In the beginning of our relationship, the arguments were typically drunken and we both woke up remembering only part of the argument. These were always minor and quickly forgotten. He would have left me at a bar and gone home before I was ready. Or forced me to walk really far in shoes that were killing my feet. Or eaten all of the pizza before I was able to have one single bite. Or tricked me into eating mustard on pretzels even though I HATE mustard! As I said - MINOR.
We don't fight about those things anymore. Ever.
After we were dating for a little while, the arguments changed once again. We were long distance (looooong distance - I was in Cambodia, he was in New York) and things came up that hadn't been an issue in the past. We would have little arguments about the timing of our calls. When I was out at night, he was sitting in a corporate office. The night the Buckeyes lost and he passed out in the subway stairs, I was blowing bubbles in the middle of the day with Cambodian kids using twist ties and soap with water. Our arguing was situational with a bit of frustration mixed in. Someone would have promised to call at 8 but due to some time difference mix up didn't call until 9 which resulted in no talking for the day. Things like that.
And yes, those fights are also long gone now.
When I first moved to New York, Porter and I had a lot of things to work out that most couples who had been together for a year had long ago worked out. We had bedtime schedules (Me? Early. Him? Late.) and cleaning schedules and side of the bed preferences. Surprisingly, trust issues kicked in for their first time a few months later. We had never really thought of the possibility of someone else as we were so focused on putting energy into making the distance work. That, and I doubt Porter was very worried about me meeting the man of my dreams considering I had INCHES on the whole entire country (not to mention pounds).
We would bicker over exes and their phones calls. We worked to determine what we deemed appropriate in regards to relationships with former loves. It was the first time that our arguments were very important to ourselves and the first time we felt passionately about our thoughts and opinions.
But, we soon got over that. Those fights are (usually) in the past.
Recently, our arguments revolve around a completely different subject. A subject that makes me feel old.
Porter and I bicker about money. We argue about when we should spend it and when we shouldn't. I enjoy meals out and rarely think of the consequences. In turn, I don't often shop and save big purchases for birthdays and Christmases. We both agree that travel is an area we enjoy spending money but we can't decide on WHERE to travel. I've done all the third world countries. He has done all of Europe. I've been to Central America. He's been on cruises. We grocery shop and at the end I will say, "wow, that wasn't so bad" and he will reply with, "I was expecting to spend at least $40 less."
We're working on getting on the same page and it is an interesting evolution to look back on arguments and their topics. And truthfully, we are great communicators and I rarely worry about the affect these small arguments will have on our relationship.
I'm interested though, what arguments come next? And what topiocs do other couples argue about?
Friday, May 1, 2009
Food Judgers
I'm a picky eater. I don't like chicken. I don't like fish (unless it's sushi and covered in spicy sauce/deep fat fried). I don't like mushrooms. I don't like hot turkey or hot ham (eh, actually I just don't like ham). I like eggs only on occassion. I don't like bones in my meat. I like things to be seperated - never a hot dog in my macaraoni or an onion near my noodle. I stay away from tomatoes and beets and anything with a strange texture.
Basically, I eat like a child.
I love pizza, Kraft macaroni and cheese, candy, chocolate, chips, things that can be microwaved, noodles with butter, French fries, peanut butter and tacos. I also like fruits and vegetables but I like them raw and I like them on their own.
I'm a simple gal. My culinary tastes are simple too.
Most of the time, this isn't a problem. Restaurants have plenty of items on every menu that I enjoy. I can always find something I like. I'm not too picky about condiments although I prefer to just leave off the mayo and mustard. Simple.
While out to eat, I never make a comment about how ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY DISGUSTING I think shrimp is. I don't comment on the disgusting chicken on the plate next to me. I eat my meal and I enjoy my meal and I leave it at that.
So, you want to know what makes me angry? When others judge MY food. It happens daily. I've never gone to Chipotle, Subway, or any restaurant without the server (or someone at my table - I'll get there in a second) making some comment about my sandwich/burrito/whatever else it is I ordered.
At Subway, I order a veggie sub. With cheese, lettuce, black olives and olive oil. At Chipotle, I get a burrito bowl with rice, lettuce, cheese, corn salsa, pico de gallo and hot sauce. And each time, I have to apologize after I order. "That's not a burrito," he says. Or, "that's ALL you want on your sandwich?". Yes, it is. Sorry, I don't like beans. Sorry I don't like meat all that much.
And while those guys make me a bit mad, I cut them some slack because maybe they're just trying to make conversation or maybe they're just bored and spicing up their eight hour shift making minimum wage.
But, I think it is completely rude when individuals I am out to eat with comment on my order.
I'd like to first note that I never make things difficult. When I order, I most often order the dish as it comes. (This makes Porter absolutely crazy.) If it has tomatoes, I'll pick them off. I eat around things. I try not to make the kitchen's life difficult by order some 'special' dish each time. (You're welcome kitchen guys. It's years of getting SCREAMED at when I come back with a special order ticket that have made me the person I am today.) I really am self conscious about the fact that I eat like a child.
So, when I go out to eat and order a dish, I pray that I can just eat it without someone commenting. On Wednesday, my office went out to eat. And one of my colleagues made a comment about how I ordered macaroni and cheese. (It wasn't exactly KRAFT, people. It was penne with gruyere cheese and an option of serrano ham, which I ate around.) The table went on to have a 3 minute discussion about how they stopped eating macaroni YEEEARSSSS ago. Like, when they were FOURTEEEEN. And how can I order that at a nice restaurant! The nerve of me! A slap in the face to French cuisine!
You know what I have to say to that? Stop judging my food, yo!
What foods do you love/hate?
Basically, I eat like a child.
I love pizza, Kraft macaroni and cheese, candy, chocolate, chips, things that can be microwaved, noodles with butter, French fries, peanut butter and tacos. I also like fruits and vegetables but I like them raw and I like them on their own.
I'm a simple gal. My culinary tastes are simple too.
Most of the time, this isn't a problem. Restaurants have plenty of items on every menu that I enjoy. I can always find something I like. I'm not too picky about condiments although I prefer to just leave off the mayo and mustard. Simple.
While out to eat, I never make a comment about how ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY DISGUSTING I think shrimp is. I don't comment on the disgusting chicken on the plate next to me. I eat my meal and I enjoy my meal and I leave it at that.
So, you want to know what makes me angry? When others judge MY food. It happens daily. I've never gone to Chipotle, Subway, or any restaurant without the server (or someone at my table - I'll get there in a second) making some comment about my sandwich/burrito/whatever else it is I ordered.
At Subway, I order a veggie sub. With cheese, lettuce, black olives and olive oil. At Chipotle, I get a burrito bowl with rice, lettuce, cheese, corn salsa, pico de gallo and hot sauce. And each time, I have to apologize after I order. "That's not a burrito," he says. Or, "that's ALL you want on your sandwich?". Yes, it is. Sorry, I don't like beans. Sorry I don't like meat all that much.
And while those guys make me a bit mad, I cut them some slack because maybe they're just trying to make conversation or maybe they're just bored and spicing up their eight hour shift making minimum wage.
But, I think it is completely rude when individuals I am out to eat with comment on my order.
I'd like to first note that I never make things difficult. When I order, I most often order the dish as it comes. (This makes Porter absolutely crazy.) If it has tomatoes, I'll pick them off. I eat around things. I try not to make the kitchen's life difficult by order some 'special' dish each time. (You're welcome kitchen guys. It's years of getting SCREAMED at when I come back with a special order ticket that have made me the person I am today.) I really am self conscious about the fact that I eat like a child.
So, when I go out to eat and order a dish, I pray that I can just eat it without someone commenting. On Wednesday, my office went out to eat. And one of my colleagues made a comment about how I ordered macaroni and cheese. (It wasn't exactly KRAFT, people. It was penne with gruyere cheese and an option of serrano ham, which I ate around.) The table went on to have a 3 minute discussion about how they stopped eating macaroni YEEEARSSSS ago. Like, when they were FOURTEEEEN. And how can I order that at a nice restaurant! The nerve of me! A slap in the face to French cuisine!
You know what I have to say to that? Stop judging my food, yo!
What foods do you love/hate?
Monday, April 27, 2009
The Side Job
We're going to keep this short and sweet, folks, as I have a golfing date in thirty minutes. Have I ever golfed before? Heck no. But I'll give it a swing anyways! Wish me luck...
I have blogged about babysitting a time or two. Every Saturday I head uptown to sit for three little angels (devils?). Through this babysitting job, I found a few others. I don't have time to sit for all of them often but sometimes on a random Tuesday, their schedule and my schedule work out.
My new side job has come through one of these other babysitting jobs. And it's sort of a surprising job considering I am about as organized as your junk drawer. Planner? Date book? I don't do those. Because I lose planners. Or forget to write in them. And then I'm just carrying around something heavy and it makes me mad.
So the side job? Well, I've been doing some birthday party planning for cute little kids. Other than being a complete disaster of disorganization, this job fits me pretty well. As one of eight, I certainly find comfort in chaos. My life has, for the most part, always been chaotic. (I used to blame it on the family until I went to college and realized that my life was still chaotic.) Also? I'm quite confident that I've been to more children's birthday parties than almost any other reader. There's been about seven parties for Brea and six for Kate. I've attended/participated in at least ten for Daniel and sixteen for Matt. I've celebrated six Superman parties with Greg (he was obsessed) and eighteen total. Because Cara and I nearly share a birthday, I've been present for twenty of her parties. And Erin? I'll go with an estimate of about seven.
That totals to a whopping EIGHTY FOUR birthday parties attended strictly for my siblings in my twenty three years of life. And that's not counting the annual Easter party OR Halloween party.
So this job? Playing games with screaming six year olds for a few hours? I have a bit of experience. And truth be told, I enjoy it at least sixteen times more than I enjoy my day job.
Next year, while in grad school, I'm going to be planning birthday parties! I'm not sure for who and I'm not sure how I'm going to make it happen - but it WILL happen.
Screaming kids? Pizza on the walls? Pin the Omnitrix on Ben 10? I AM IN!
I have blogged about babysitting a time or two. Every Saturday I head uptown to sit for three little angels (devils?). Through this babysitting job, I found a few others. I don't have time to sit for all of them often but sometimes on a random Tuesday, their schedule and my schedule work out.
My new side job has come through one of these other babysitting jobs. And it's sort of a surprising job considering I am about as organized as your junk drawer. Planner? Date book? I don't do those. Because I lose planners. Or forget to write in them. And then I'm just carrying around something heavy and it makes me mad.
So the side job? Well, I've been doing some birthday party planning for cute little kids. Other than being a complete disaster of disorganization, this job fits me pretty well. As one of eight, I certainly find comfort in chaos. My life has, for the most part, always been chaotic. (I used to blame it on the family until I went to college and realized that my life was still chaotic.) Also? I'm quite confident that I've been to more children's birthday parties than almost any other reader. There's been about seven parties for Brea and six for Kate. I've attended/participated in at least ten for Daniel and sixteen for Matt. I've celebrated six Superman parties with Greg (he was obsessed) and eighteen total. Because Cara and I nearly share a birthday, I've been present for twenty of her parties. And Erin? I'll go with an estimate of about seven.
That totals to a whopping EIGHTY FOUR birthday parties attended strictly for my siblings in my twenty three years of life. And that's not counting the annual Easter party OR Halloween party.
So this job? Playing games with screaming six year olds for a few hours? I have a bit of experience. And truth be told, I enjoy it at least sixteen times more than I enjoy my day job.
Next year, while in grad school, I'm going to be planning birthday parties! I'm not sure for who and I'm not sure how I'm going to make it happen - but it WILL happen.
Screaming kids? Pizza on the walls? Pin the Omnitrix on Ben 10? I AM IN!
Friday, April 24, 2009
The Recession Bar
While I've never been a 'wild child', per se, I have always been somewhat of a social butterfly. In high school, I drank infrequently, but I was at every party that anyone ever had. (I have the alcohol blow sticks to prove it - they let you keep them if you blow a zero. No clue what they do with them if you don't. Jamie? Help us out here. Hahaha.) In college, I had my moments - moments drinking nearly a whole bottle of Bacardi O. But I was never the belligerant friend who would puke in bar bathrooms or blackout or do naughty things with random boys or kick random strangers in the shin (oops, I think I forgot to tell that story!).
And while there were some nights of Mekong Whiskey (don't go there, EVER) in Cambodia and maybe a night of happy pizza (sorry, Dad) I've managed to stay social butterfly without being wild child.
But really, that's not where I intended for this post to go at all. Sorry about that - I got distracted.
The point is, our weekends have greatly changed as of late. Porter and I have a lot of friends who work on Wall Street and who, in turn, have been quite affected by the recession. (Unlike our friends who work in DC - they're living it up on the Hill but that's a story for another day.) While we still make weekly stops at Ulysses or Becketts, we just aren't able to go out as much as we did before. The boys are too busy stressing about stocks and investments and saving money to put in bonds. (And I'm too busy making no money in the non-profit sector.) So, we tend to spend a lot of time together at someone's apartment.
Mind you, apartments in NYC are itty bitty. House guests are often forced to sit on our bed and the apartment reaches capacity at about 15 people.
So, while spring/summer is wonderful all over the place, it happens to be extra wonderful in New York City. Suddenly, your 500 square feet expands as you are able to spend some time outside. And, if you happen to live in a luxury building downtown, you are also able to spend some time ON THE BALCONY.
The top floor of our building is one big outside deck. The views are fantastic - we can look north and see the entire city and east to see the water. Without a doubt, the roof of our building has turned into our recession bar. Each nice day means that guests will arrive soon after work for many bottles of wine (thank you, Trader Joes) will be downed in the summerish sun.
Tonight? We'll all be at the recession bar. Drinking 3 Buck Chuck and enjoying the wonderful weather in this fantastic city. Thank GOODNESS for the warmth.
And while there were some nights of Mekong Whiskey (don't go there, EVER) in Cambodia and maybe a night of happy pizza (sorry, Dad) I've managed to stay social butterfly without being wild child.
But really, that's not where I intended for this post to go at all. Sorry about that - I got distracted.
The point is, our weekends have greatly changed as of late. Porter and I have a lot of friends who work on Wall Street and who, in turn, have been quite affected by the recession. (Unlike our friends who work in DC - they're living it up on the Hill but that's a story for another day.) While we still make weekly stops at Ulysses or Becketts, we just aren't able to go out as much as we did before. The boys are too busy stressing about stocks and investments and saving money to put in bonds. (And I'm too busy making no money in the non-profit sector.) So, we tend to spend a lot of time together at someone's apartment.
Mind you, apartments in NYC are itty bitty. House guests are often forced to sit on our bed and the apartment reaches capacity at about 15 people.
So, while spring/summer is wonderful all over the place, it happens to be extra wonderful in New York City. Suddenly, your 500 square feet expands as you are able to spend some time outside. And, if you happen to live in a luxury building downtown, you are also able to spend some time ON THE BALCONY.
The top floor of our building is one big outside deck. The views are fantastic - we can look north and see the entire city and east to see the water. Without a doubt, the roof of our building has turned into our recession bar. Each nice day means that guests will arrive soon after work for many bottles of wine (thank you, Trader Joes) will be downed in the summerish sun.
Tonight? We'll all be at the recession bar. Drinking 3 Buck Chuck and enjoying the wonderful weather in this fantastic city. Thank GOODNESS for the warmth.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
A Few Bullets on a Busy Tuesday...
Sorry to do this to you all but I only have time for bullets today. There are a few things noteworthy in my life so I here go!
- I woke up this morning to two facebook messages - one from my little sister and one from a close girl friend. They were both letting me know that my ex boyfriend was selling a very expensive gift I once gave him on facebook for $45. Call me crazy, but I think that's rather inappropriate and not exactly the nicest thing to do with a gift. I left him a message asking if I would get $22.50 out of the deal.
- Google Susan Boyle. Right now! This instant. Or go to youtube and look her up. I'm not kidding, I had goosebumps from the whole thing. I might watch her sing on repeat.
- Because I've been watching Susan Boyle sing all morning long, I have a very strong desire to go to a Broadway show this week. I'm sure Porter can hardly contain his excitement!
- New York is dreary and I'm tired of it. I'd like some sun please!
- And now I'm getting less and less noteworthy so I'll wrap it up. Time to get back to work! I hope everyone had a fantastic Easter!
- I woke up this morning to two facebook messages - one from my little sister and one from a close girl friend. They were both letting me know that my ex boyfriend was selling a very expensive gift I once gave him on facebook for $45. Call me crazy, but I think that's rather inappropriate and not exactly the nicest thing to do with a gift. I left him a message asking if I would get $22.50 out of the deal.
- Google Susan Boyle. Right now! This instant. Or go to youtube and look her up. I'm not kidding, I had goosebumps from the whole thing. I might watch her sing on repeat.
- Because I've been watching Susan Boyle sing all morning long, I have a very strong desire to go to a Broadway show this week. I'm sure Porter can hardly contain his excitement!
- New York is dreary and I'm tired of it. I'd like some sun please!
- And now I'm getting less and less noteworthy so I'll wrap it up. Time to get back to work! I hope everyone had a fantastic Easter!
Friday, April 10, 2009
It's The Freakin' Weekend..
Hallelujah! I live for the weekends. I love weekends. I even like Sunday now (and I used to hate Sunday because I was never living in the moment and was stressed out about Monday). Porter and I are housing a good college friend in our humble abode for the weekend. Ever since he walked in the door we have heard about how much sweeter Chicago is than New York City.
'Dude, your subways are nasty.' 'Central Park is definitely not that cool.' 'New York sports teams suck.'
I sort of missed the kid so I'm happily putting up with his antics. And he was very kind when I offered him a bagel this morning (he's Jewish - it's passover - I think he has like 5 days left until he can eat bread). All I got from him was a 'woman, stop being a crazy Christian.' I was expecting much worse for that faux pas.
Speaking of crazy Christian - it's EASTER! My little sister will be in town for a night and we will both spend Easter Sunday in Jersey with the aunts/uncles and Grandma who flew to the East Coast with sister. (The G can't fly by herself anymore - she wanders.) I've been Easter basketing it for the past week or so and slowly all of the candy is disappearing out of the baskets. I wish I could blame Porter but he's a good little health nut and would certainly not steal the candy. I guess the blame is all on me.
I even got the crazy Jew an Easter basket filled with Passover candy. I figured this was legit (kosher?) because Easter baskets are completely secular. I'm quite prepared for a few crazy Christian comments after that one though.
In other news, MIAMI REDHAWKS to the National Championship! We'll be playing Boston U who has lost a total of like six games this season so things could be rough. Pretty sure this could be the first National Championship game Miami U has ever played in and I will certainly be wearing my red proudly on Saturday night. College hockey really makes me happy and I sort of wish I would have dated a hockey player in college. I guess I missed the boat on that one. Sad.
And while we're on the topic of jersey chasin' - I miss it. Last night the three of us (Porter, friend, Lauren) sat in bed and discussed how devastating it is that our 'dream is dead'. We're referring to the college dream. I'm not sure I'll ever stop missing those days. I long for them. And I also long for college boys who play college sports. I enjoyed jersey chasing. And then I had to grow up and all of the sudden the pool of jersey boys goes from like 15% of the population to 1%. Not that I'm not happy with my banker - I totally am. He's cute as a button. And tough as a bull. I wonder if bankers are the jerseys for college grads?
Really, this post is just bologna. My brain is done. I'm ready for summer and tired of the gray. My many siblings have been keeping me on the phone/computer all hours of the night discussing all sorts of problems and my relaxation time has been cut in half. In the past four days we've had a wedding shower to plan, college roommate problems, a 3rd graders excitement over a future trip to the orthodontist, an intense soccer game against Heelan, a Club Penguin membership gone awry, and the (frequent) talks with Mom and Dad about...everything. I truly believe that having 7 siblings really reduces the number of friends a girl can have. Not that I'm complaining, those are the seven most favorite people in my life.
I'm going to wrap this up. Hoppy Easter! Happy Passover! Have a great weekend!
'Dude, your subways are nasty.' 'Central Park is definitely not that cool.' 'New York sports teams suck.'
I sort of missed the kid so I'm happily putting up with his antics. And he was very kind when I offered him a bagel this morning (he's Jewish - it's passover - I think he has like 5 days left until he can eat bread). All I got from him was a 'woman, stop being a crazy Christian.' I was expecting much worse for that faux pas.
Speaking of crazy Christian - it's EASTER! My little sister will be in town for a night and we will both spend Easter Sunday in Jersey with the aunts/uncles and Grandma who flew to the East Coast with sister. (The G can't fly by herself anymore - she wanders.) I've been Easter basketing it for the past week or so and slowly all of the candy is disappearing out of the baskets. I wish I could blame Porter but he's a good little health nut and would certainly not steal the candy. I guess the blame is all on me.
I even got the crazy Jew an Easter basket filled with Passover candy. I figured this was legit (kosher?) because Easter baskets are completely secular. I'm quite prepared for a few crazy Christian comments after that one though.
In other news, MIAMI REDHAWKS to the National Championship! We'll be playing Boston U who has lost a total of like six games this season so things could be rough. Pretty sure this could be the first National Championship game Miami U has ever played in and I will certainly be wearing my red proudly on Saturday night. College hockey really makes me happy and I sort of wish I would have dated a hockey player in college. I guess I missed the boat on that one. Sad.
And while we're on the topic of jersey chasin' - I miss it. Last night the three of us (Porter, friend, Lauren) sat in bed and discussed how devastating it is that our 'dream is dead'. We're referring to the college dream. I'm not sure I'll ever stop missing those days. I long for them. And I also long for college boys who play college sports. I enjoyed jersey chasing. And then I had to grow up and all of the sudden the pool of jersey boys goes from like 15% of the population to 1%. Not that I'm not happy with my banker - I totally am. He's cute as a button. And tough as a bull. I wonder if bankers are the jerseys for college grads?
Really, this post is just bologna. My brain is done. I'm ready for summer and tired of the gray. My many siblings have been keeping me on the phone/computer all hours of the night discussing all sorts of problems and my relaxation time has been cut in half. In the past four days we've had a wedding shower to plan, college roommate problems, a 3rd graders excitement over a future trip to the orthodontist, an intense soccer game against Heelan, a Club Penguin membership gone awry, and the (frequent) talks with Mom and Dad about...everything. I truly believe that having 7 siblings really reduces the number of friends a girl can have. Not that I'm complaining, those are the seven most favorite people in my life.
I'm going to wrap this up. Hoppy Easter! Happy Passover! Have a great weekend!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
California Here We Come....
Okay, so I actually returned from California well over a week ago. But since I'm a huge slacker, I haven't really gotten around to posting. I've been questioning lately if overall blog writing enjoyment is in a lull or is just completley fading altogether. I'm really not sure. I realize that the chances of me keeping this up this summer are slim to none. The 1950's cottage does have a tennis court but is completely lacking any technology. I think I'm looking forward to a mostly Internet free summer!
ANYWAYS. That is completely besides the point. Back to California. The New York winter was getting me down. I was feeling claustrophobic, overwhelmed - like a fish in a net. So Porter and I decided we needed to get the heck out for a bit. My favorite 21 year old sister was planning on spending her final college Spring Break at home and I just couldn't let that happen. Instead, we all decided to meet up in California and stay with our most favorite Uncle Frank for an extended weekend.
Throughout all of this planning, we picked up a few others on the way. Cara's college roommate and our mutual best friend (remember, we share all of our friends!) from home flew out to LA as well. It was quite the reunion!
Cara, Chelsi and I in Malibu
Uncle Frank put us all up for the six days we were visiting. We played cards for hours, drank quite a few margaritas and beers, ate lots of Mexican food and enjoyed the California sunshine. Most of us had been to LA before so the touristy things weren't of much interest. We did spend a day in Malibu at the beach and another morning walking around Santa Monica Pier where I quite conveniently spent way more money than I should during this recession. We spent a night atop The Standard in crazy red balloon chairs and spent another night in Hollywood at Beauty Bar, The Room and some other bar names that I don't quite remember.
The whole gang getting wild at Beauty Bar.
During this trip though, I realized I'm may be getting old. While I enjoyed going out in Hollywood, I enjoyed early morning hikes with the dogs even more. And as much as I like being crazy every now and then, I preferred to relax and take it easy.Moral of the story, great trip and nice break from New York City. I was happy to come home though and as NYC begins to warm up, I'm enjoying it more and more every day. I am completely committed to enjoying few months in this city and think I've been doing a pretty good job. Porter and I had a nice 'relationship chat' on Friday night at Haru (our favorite sushi place downtown) and things seem to be right on track. Truth be told, I was worried things were WAY OFF track for a while so the talk took a huge weight off my shoulders.
Cara and I have begun to house hunt in the Twin Cities area and a bulldog is in my near future. Can anyone suggest cute female bulldog names? Porter and I have decided on Stanton if we get a male but things are up in the air for a female. (Porter and I lived in Stanton Hall freshman year of college...awwwww!)
Ultimately, life is good!
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