Half Baked

We've got a bun in the oven.....

Due April 2012

This was our little "we're expecting" announcement/Christmas card this year and clearly our big news of 2011.

Ready or not...here we go!  

sucker for a note wth a heart drawn on it...

He's getting better at this..... 

No smiley face...but clearly the heart trumps smiley face any day of the week....BUT maybe he just feels bad because he's off to a holiday party with FREE DRINKS while I stay home....HMMMMMM

More packed lunch musings....

Screw the whole theory that women seek out men that remind them of their fathers.

Today in my bag of snacks packed lovingly by my hubby was THIS...

Talk about throw back to days when my momma packed my lunch everyday.

My cup runneth over...or so I thought until I opened up my surprise with a note.....

Really?

Just five measly peanut M&M's???  Sheesh AND no smiley face. He's got a lot to learn before he starts packing school lunches. I'm just saying.....

Packed Lunch

I think my husband thinks I'm a squirrel.

 He packs my lunch for me everyday. Mostly it's snacks..a sliced apple, yogurt, a pear.....

..and nuts. Lots of nuts. Apparently, he thinks I go through nuts like a squirrel. I usually keep a stash of almonds on my desk but yesterday in my bag of snacks he had a whole tupperware full of more nuts and today when I went through my bag of goodies there was a ziploc of ...you guessed it more nuts.

"Not your cup of tea"

I distinctly recall the first time I heard the phrase, "not your cup of tea." I was approximately 8 or 9 years-old and I was at Joey's birthday party.

Joey was the boy next door and we played kickball, ran around capturing lightning bugs and climbed the tree in his backyard.  (And let me tell you it was a great friggin tree, seriously on a scale of 1 to 10 based on equa-distance between branches for climbing and branch strength I give it a 10. Granted, I think that's the only tree I've ever climbed in my life so I'm no official "tree-judger" but still)

You should know that Joey had kick-ass birthday parties as least that's how my childhood memory recalls it. We're talking ponies and clowns people. No offense to my parents or nothing but plates and cups with the Cabbage Patch Kids on them were as good as it got in my household.

One year he decided to celebrate his birthday at one of those go-kart raceway places.

I don't remember the specifics but it did not go well for me. I couldn't seem to maneuver the damn go-kart.

I must've blocked a lot of this out so I can't definitively say but I'm pretty sure I barely got around the track.  I just kept running into the tire barrier and could not for the love of God figure out how to turn the damn go-kart around no matter what the hell I did. I would take a conservative guess that the other kids zipped past me maybe a zillion bajillion times as I painstakingly managed to get around the track one measly time.

I do, however, vividly recall walking off the race track towards the fence where Joey's mom was and her turning to me and saying sympathetically, "this just isn't your cup of tea, is it?"

Despite never having heard the saying before I totally got it. "This just isn't your cup of tea" means you suck at this. You suck like real bad at this.

Further reflection into my childhood stirs up images of amused family member's faces during trips to the amusement park as I walked off the race track feeling embarrassed and ashamed because I could not manage my way around a kid's race track despite all the other kids maneuvering these miniature race cars seemingly quite well and even enjoying it. I also recall getting really mad..like Ramona Quimby mad that adults would take amusement from my hardship.

You should know that all these memories have come rushing to the surface of my poor little head because I landed a freelance job that requires traveling and DRIVING.

I actually thought about turning it down. But that seemed silly considering we're on the road only one week out of six.

Although, I am contemplating "accidentally misplacing" my license right before the shoot...

Frankly I think I'm doing them a favor.

Seriously, would YOU want the grown-up version of the kid that can't get a go-kart around the kiddie track behind the wheel?

All the single ladies....

This is what I had for dinner last night.

Promptly followed by a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It's amazing how quickly I can fall back into single-girl mode when the hubs is away.

The "married me" at least attempts to make a home cooked meal most nights of the week.  But not this week...this week I am SINGLE-the old ball and chain is working out of the DC office and it just seems natural to eat Häagen-Dazs for dinner.

An hour ago, I found myself playing music videos on youtube (thanks gchat lover) and started rocking out in the apartment-like unabashedly, full throttle, working up a serious sweat kind of dancing.

It felt glorious and I can't remember when was the last time I've "danced like no one's watching."

There was a little air guitar involved, jumping up and down like a drunk 18-year old at a rock concert, followed by some Zumba inspired moves because I too, can be a hot Latin dancer.  (If only in the privacy of my living room.)

And yes, this all went down with a deep-cleansing mask on my face.

Dear hubby,  I miss you dearly but being able to watch " "Teen Mom" without your judging
eyes-PRICELESS.

"something's missing"

My husband has four sisters-yep FOUR sisters. And while I know it's not nice to have "favorites" his one sister, Iris-well...she's my favorite. There's no other way around it. She just is. Her family reminds me of my family and I love her nonchalant, matter-of-fact mannerism.

She's constantly asking me when we're going to have kids. She gave up asking her brother-MY husband because he goes Jim Mora on her ass as seen below in this Coors Light commercial.

Just replace "kids" for playoffs and you'll get a good sense of my husband's reaction.  

"Kids?!! Kids?!! Don't talk to me about kids!!"

All of this is done while he pulls at his hair in exasperation and then walks away looking like some kind of exotic bird with his hair sticking up in all directions....actually on second thought a mad man might be a better description.

Anyway, when she asks me I usually give a polite answer never sure how to respond since my husband has just finished throwing a tantrum and usually just shake my head and throw my hands up in the air and look pointedly in my husband's direction in a way that says my hands are tied because I'm married to a mad man slash exotic bird.

This is when Iris is at her best.

She leans in close to me and gets real serious.  "Everybody forgets their birth control pill now and then, don't they," she asks in her best attempt to look all innocent. She points over to her daughter, that just happened to get knocked up on the ONE day she forgot to take her pill. Hmmm, I'm no birth control expert but I don't think it works like that...... 

I must have not looked convinced and that's when the conversation got even better. It was then suggested that I take a needle and put a hole through the condom. Wow, I thought. What Spanish novela have YOU been watching!!?? I mean that's serious stuff but then I started thinking that's kind of brilliant....in a sneaky, totally wrong but still kind of genius if you were in the market to trick the man you are sleeping with to father your child-kind of a way. And which for the record, I am NOT.

Hell no, not for me-I'm big on karma and there's no way tricking your man to get preggers can go over well with the karma police.

But I like Iris and I know she means well. And her "life is so simple why complicate it?" attitude is refreshing although arguably unrealistic.  What's all the worry and fuss for-Iris wants to know? So you live in a one bedroom apartment, so what? So your husband is scared, puhlease he loves kids-he'll be FINE.

And I do think there's truth to what she says. Well not the part about forgetting your pills or poking holes in condoms but she points to her son-in-law and says he was reluctant to have kids but once he held his son it was all just boundless amounts of love.

Something else she said during one of our recent visits also stuck with me. I had just given her some response to the whole so when are you having kids inquiry something along the lines of, "soon, soon we just want to enjoy each other-just the two of us a little while longer."  That's fine and dandy she says but after a while you start to feel like something is missing in the marriage and the thing that's missing is children. So hurry up and start having them.

Sure Iris, because it's sooo easy just to make the decision to bring a living, breathing human being into this world.  But in her mind, yep-it is. Go have kids damn't.

But I gotta tell you I totally get the "something's missing" thing.

For the past couple of holidays and vacations I've kinda felt it..the whole "something's missing feeling."  I found myself wondering wouldn't it be nice having a little bundle of joy here to share this with...isn't that young family having more fun jumping in the waves at the beach than we are....isn't making my husband-a grown man wear a happy birthday hat and decorating the apartment with balloons a sign that maybe we need a kid?

Haters Gonna Hate

I believe very strongly in the power of walking.

I credit just moving from Maryland (where I only bothered walking a few steps to my car and DROVE everywhere) to New York City (the land of it's just easier to get there by foot) for helping me to drop some seriously unwanted and stubborn pounds.

I also believe very strongly in comfortable shoes. like.very.very.strongly

I am the girl that wore heels from Naturalizer on her wedding day.

I admit I was a bit embarrassed by this shot with the big ole' words Naturalizer slapped across the bottom of my shoe for the world to see especially when other brides sport Jimmy Choo's on their wedding day.

But here's a better shot.

See, they're not so bad.

Here's the thing, I scoff at girls who wear heels. Yes, I am a hater.

A hater of girls who wear heels. No, not heels from Naturalizer but you know real heels as in painful heels, like actually cute, sexy, hot heels.

And I hate on you--any and all of you that are out there because you are all liars.

Yes, your butt looks better than mine and your legs look longer but you are in pain and DON'T TRY TO DENY IT. 

And so I hate on you for fronting. Because I cannot for one second believe that your heels are comfortable or that your feet don't bother you and that you can happily walk 20 blocks in this concrete jungle and not just want to cry.

Don't even get me started on the girls that do wear the heels and then constantly complain about their feet. The girl who turns to her boyfriend and says can you go get me a plate of food-I can't walk in these heels.

And so I thought I was taking the high road and told myself, no I will not suffer from foot pain. I will not pretend that every step I take in these damn over-priced shoes aren't killing me.

Which is why if you go into my closet you'll find a lot of shoes from Naturalizer and Aerosoles.

And did you know that Macy's in Herald Square has an entire section on the fourth floor for Comfort Shoes. I go there regularly. But I'll be honest with you finding cute, comfortable shoes ain't easy. Darryl the shoe salesman at Macy's said it best, "sure they're comfortable but they sure are ugly."

I guess I hate on you heel-slingback-peep toe-wedges kind of gals because maybe a small part of me wants to be heel-slingback-peep toe-wedges kind-of a-gal too but I cannot because I cannot take the pain.

But recently, I have been influenced.  Influenced by the world wide web known as the Internet.

I kept seeing girls sporting these shoes on the fashion forums and blogs that I follow and they said they were comfortable; sure they could be lying but I figured next time I was at Target I'd check them out.

To my surprise they actually had my size and they're only 30 bucks.... But I hesitated...these shoes are very un-me. I've never owned a pair of shoes like this pair and they're kind of reminiscent of gladiator shoes and I kind of hated that trend... But I bought them after my husband told me I should but that could also be cuz he just wanted me to hurry up and make a decision because there was this kid at the shoe section howling at the top of his lungs.

But here I am writing this blog sporting my wedges with a FOUR INCH HEEL.  I admit I feel good. I feel TALL! 

I don't know where the hell I am going to wear these things...considering that I don't think I can manage the 25 minute walk to work in these things and taking a pair of comfortable shoes to change into for the walk seems a bit excessive for a girl who's used to old ladies shoes.

But I wanted to send an apology out to all the heel loving gals out there-even the girls who look absolutely ridiculous trying to walk down the street in stilettos they obviously haven't mastered.

I get why you do it--there's a certain feeling of "I am the da bomb" that comes over you when you're wearing a pair of hot heels.

So please accept this video sharing as a peace offering.
 

Eternal Search for Perfect Job...or at this rate...Any Job

"You are just never at peace with yourself," my husband says with a sigh last night on the couch. Yeah, you can say that again.

I am never happy with where I am in my life. Never satisfied. Even though I technically have a job, I still decide to punish myself and get a demeaning, low-paying other one. Is it the Catholic in me that believes I must suffer?

Yes, I started a new gig this week. I use the word "gig" because to call it a "job" just wouldn't be right. A job has connotations of real pay, you know in exchange for services that require actual thinking and maybe even benefits, a 401K.  This "gig" includes none of the above.

I've been feeling desperate. I haven't worked since January. That's a long time. I know I'm lucky   blessed to still have the "work from home job" but it's not a job in my field and a few weeks ago my sister sent me an article about how companies view you as unemployable if you've been unemployed for more than six months. Basically, they figured you've already been passed over, so they don't want you. And this freaked me out.  Plus, I'm just l.o.n.e.l.y.

I don't like staying home all day.

So in my desperation, I started applying to any and every job out there in my field-even, gulp, internships.

I got zero call backs.

This is not good. I am young, it's not like I can go the rest of my life without a real job.

Finally, someone wrote me asking me to come in. Do you remember how I mentioned that I got my start in the mail room? Well, this may even be beneath the mail room.

I spend all day transcribing and logging video. I'm feeling like such a fat loser.

I'm hunched over a computer and a video deck, typing away. Is this how the Jewish and Italian immigrants felt slaving away making blouses before they were killed in the Triangle Fire??? I feel like what I do is the 21st Century version of a sweatshop but instead of a sewing machine I've got a computer and a video deck.

My reasoning for taking this job is that I need to just get myself out there. And it is a production company so it's related, you know, it's not like I took a job in retail. Although ever since my sister stopped working at JCrew and lost her discount, I have been considering retail....

Ironically, on my first day I transcribed an interview with an 80-year-old man that's still working and I found myself feeling jealous of him because he loves his job. He says going to work everyday is the one thing keeping him alive. The producer asked him if he ever plans on leaving his job. He said, "Never! they'll take me out the back door when I die."

Wow. Can you imagine loving your job so much that you'd like want to die at work? Will I ever find a job like that? Probably not.  Not only did this old man LOVE his job but he also made good money. Apparently, when you're 80 you don't feel the need to be humble about how much money you make. The thing that kills me is that this 80-year old man didn't do anything special to get this job it just LANDED ON HIS LAP. 

ROUGH TRANSCRIPTION BASED FROM MY MEMORY OF TYPING OUT EVERY SINGLE SYLLABLE  THAT CAME OUT OF HIS MOUTH
80-year old man: I didn't have a job and one day I'm just sitting in a restaurant and my friend comes in and says, Marvin there's a job down the street-they're waiting for you. And I go, who are they? And my friend says just go and see them they're waiting for you. So I go and I don't even open my mouth the entire time-they do all the talking and hire me right there. And they asked me how much do you want and I gave them a number and they said sure, sure fine and here I am 50 years later. (smiles at camera)

Sigh, sometimes you just get lucky sitting in a restaurant.

I Survived

I know not getting along with your in-laws is as American as apple pie. I mean entire sitcoms have been based around annoying in-laws.

There's the Honeymooners. (poor Jackie Gleason could never catch a break from his mother-in-law) and Everyone Loves Raymond . Even cartoons depict America's strained relationship between in-laws.  Remember the Flintstones? Let's just say Wilma's mother was not Fred's biggest fan.

I guess writers figure it makes for good TV and comedy but I, myself can't even sit through an episode of Everyone Loves Raymond.  I will seriously make my husband change the channel. Consider it a sore spot but that lady is SO MEAN! I'm talking of course about Ray's mom.

But here's the thing she's only SO MEAN to her daughter-in-law.

Who if you ask me is just a LOVELY person and if anything Ray's mom should be kissing the ground her daughter-in-law walks on for putting up with her son. Yea, I know it's only television but what can I say it's a sore spot.

The in-laws flew in on Friday and just having them in the same state made me feel totally and utterly unsettled. I HATE feeling this way.

I guess the thing that really kills me is that I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY SHE DOESN'T LIKE ME!!

I mean seriously guys I am a likable person REALLY. Getting along with folks isn't a problem for me. I have great manners, a great personality.

Exhibit A. my high school yearbook  is just chuck-full of pleasantries such as "you are the nicest person I know" "and "don't ever change."

Exhibit B. ex-boyfriend's mothers all LOVED ME.  I mean I haven't had too many boyfriends but of the ones I've had there's not a single mom that didn't like me. In fact we all became the BEST OF FRIENDS! Really we got along just splendidly. We got along so great that there were some boyfriends I didn't even want to break up because that meant losing his mother as a BFF!

But just like Debra from Everyone Loves Raymond there's no good reason for her mother-in-law to not like her. 

In high school I had this cult obsession with the movie, "Empire Records."

There's this scene where Liv Tyler whines to Renee Zellweger that "Deb" (their co-worker) hates her. Renee responds, "Yeah, she hates me, too.  But I have enough sense to hate her back."

I think a lot of newlyweds/wives go that route. Figure, hey she hates me I'll hate her back EVEN MORE. And they talk tough about how horrible and miserable their mother-in-laws are and act like they don't care that they don't get along with the woman that gave birth to their husband.

Well,  I am not that tough-talking girl. Trust me, I tried to act tough and be all like "I don't care" with the attitude of a 14-year-old but that front didn't last long and ended up with hot tears spilling down my cheeks in a very public place (not one of my best moments) that sure didn't stem from NOT caring but caring and caring a lot and feeling really hurt.

It makes me sad that my mother-in-law and I don't have a relationship-that the thought of visiting my husbands family this Mother's Day causes me so much angst and anxiety. It hurts my feelings that I see her be perfectly nice and warm to others which makes me realize she's capable of being nice but only feel coldness from her.

Of course this is MY version and not hers. She may very well argue that I am the cold, standoffish one.

Well today is the day AFTER Mother's Day and I am here to tell you I survived. Dare I say, the tension is even becoming a little less between us. Of course I took preemptive measures like making sure I wore pants to cover the veins in my legs which my mother-in-law had no problem pointing out the first time she met me and I made sure to not eat any bread so as to not provoke her saying out loud how bread turns into sugar and then fat.

Yes, I say it was almost a success.  Sure it helped that after politely saying "hello" and I wished her a happy Mother's Day we retreated to opposite corners of the patio. (Not an easy task considering the patio was about the size of a closet.) Baby steps people baby steps.

For newlyweds that just naturally mesh with their spouse's family-good for you. It really is a blessing to get along well with your in-laws. This has not been the case with this marriage. I think meshing into a new family is tough especially when your spouse has already got a weird relationship with his own family it makes it really hard to navigate.

I don't think my mother-in-law and I will be the best of friends EVER. I still feel uncomfortable at family get-togethers but I do think it's getting better.

I am just thankful that this visit didn't send me to the brink of despair which past visits have. I actually even didn't stay up all night worrying about it like I have in the past and most importantly my husband and I did not fight ONCE over his family.....of course they don't leave until next Saturday....there's still time to screw this up.  :)

Brilliant!

I  mean really the whole thing was just perfect, wasn't it?

I'm taking about the Royal Wedding, of course or specifically Kate Middleton Princess Catherine's dress.

I know everyone's seen it by now but here's what I could find from google images just to allow ourselves to drool just a bit longer.

I really wasn't into all the hoopla, was never a Royal obsessor but the media told me otherwise and I  willingly obeyed and ate it all up.

I got up somewhere around 5 o'clock-ish and am a bit embarassed to say that it's noon and I've spent the majority of the morning watching all the coverage as well as googling Grace Kelly's wedding dress and other celebrity weddings which I will conveniently include here for you to relish as well.

Can you say the word iconic?

The only other recent wedding gown with sleeves that I could think of was Ivanka Trump's dress.  And boy was it gorgeous.

Beautiful. There's really nothing more to say. This commoner-wedding lover got her fix today and I should probably do something constructive with my day other than goo-goo-ga-ing over dresses.

 

Facebook is a bride's worst enemy

You know how it's supposed to be this magical moment when the bride and groom see each other for the first time on their wedding day? Well on my wedding day when I walked into the church and got my first glance at MY groom he looked pissed..not exactly the storybook moment I was envisioning.

Later on my husband told me he got super annoyed when he saw his crazy brother-in-law jump in front of the professional photographer we paid good money for so he could get the money shot of me walking down the aisle on his camera phone.

HIS CAMERA PHONE.  He got in the way of our professional photographer and the photographer's fancy schmany camera so he could get a shot of me walking down the aisle on his CAMERA PHONE.  And then he proceeded to take that photo of me on his camera phone with my eyes half-closed and making some weird face and posted it on Facebook.

Imagine my surprise when I got back from my honeymoon and went back to work to have people I barely know tell me, aww welcome back I saw your wedding pictures!

Really? How is that possible? I mean I barely even KNOW you and I haven't even seen the pictures from our photographer.

One word for you. FACEBOOK.  Yes, for girls like me Facebook is our worst enemy. And when I say girls like me I am referring to insecure, type A personality control freaks that do not photograph well on your CHEAP CAMERAS and are less than thrilled that you decided to share theses photos with 200 of your closest friends. 

Listen, I am not a photogenic person. I know this. It's been painful growing up with two very photogenic sisters. So I know that my wedding photographer had his work cut out for him but little did I know that everyone and their mother thinks they're a photographer these days and felt it was their duty to photograph our wedding day and promptly post them on Facebook without even bothering to think hmmmm the bride does look a bit cross eyed in this one maybe I shouldn't post. NO! OF COURSE NOT.

I know it's silly to some but the fact is a bride wants to look and feel beautiful on her wedding day and years from now wants to look at her wedding pictures and think, "damn I looked hot...what happened to me??"

But seriously this is an important day and the reality is most people don't take good pictures and most of the point and shoot cameras our there don't do justice to the DRESS.

I know this for a fact because the photos of me in my wedding dress that wound up on Facebook are NOT GOOD. So yea, I guess I'm a little sensitive about photo-taking at weddings and believe that you should "leave it to the professionals."

So when I attended a wedding last week of a dear, dear friend I may have been a little miffed when the lady next to me kept getting annoyed because the photographer [as in PROFESSIONAL photographer] "kept getting in her way" as she phrased it.

The first time she complained about the photographer I kinda just politely smiled and shook my head. But after she started doing ninja moves to get IN FRONT OF THE PROFESSIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER I felt I had to intervene. And so next time she complained about the photographer I responded,  "well, they did hire HIM to take pictures and not you" and added a small laugh at the end in hopes that it would come across as light and airy because you know I'd hate to offend her.

Luckily for me she was not offended at all; in fact, she spent the rest of the night focusing her attention on me and getting embarrassing pictures of me out on the dance floor.  Her favorite picture that she snapped was one of my armpit. Yes, the open bar had given me the confidence I needed to think I could dance and she got the perfect close-up of my armpit while I was dancing with my arms in the air. 

I am waiting for it to surface on Facebook.

I guess the title of this post should be anybody with a camera that I am not paying a few grand to make sure I look good is my worst enemy.

Fit Pregnancy

Let me just preface this by saying, No, I am not pregnant BUT that doesn't mean I don't have a right to browse through Fit Pregnancy magazine if I'm killing time at the book store waiting for my ride, right?

Well, apparently Barnes and Noble doesn't think so because Fit Pregnancy is wrapped in a plastic cover which means I can't read the magazine for free which is what my intention was.

I've had my eye on Fit Pregnancy for a while now. It's one of the magazines promptly  displayed  in the checkout line at Whole Foods at Columbus Circle and since I seem to find myself at Whole Foods every other day (yea we're that household that does not buy in bulk or plan weekly meals and so somewhere around 4 o'clock we  I realize that we've got nothing for dinner and make the pilgrimage to Whole Foods)   I always check out the cover and vow I will not make the same mistake I made with the small fortune I spent on bridal magazines.

Real Simple Weddings, Martha Stewart Wedding, New York Weddings...yup I bought them all.  And seriously folks, I could've really saved a bundle if I had just went out and bought a damn subscription when the whole wedding madness began.

Martha Stewart Weddings costs a whopping six bucks an issue but I could've gotten the ENTIRE YEAR for 12 bucks!

NO, I WON'T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE TWICE!

But I'm a bit superstitious and can't bring myself to BUY the magazine when I'm not even pregnant...maybe that's like a no-no you know...kinda like the same theory of you shouldn't go wedding dress shopping or ring shopping if you don't even got a man.

And even though there's ALWAYS a mad crazy line at Whole Foods there's never really enough time to browse through the magazine.  You gotta be alert at Whole Foods--there's a very complex (no, not really but it does seem to befuddle newbies) numeric color coded system that designates your corresponding register.  But enough on the checkout line at Whole Foods because this is not about Whole Foods this is about me wanting to flip through Fit Pregnancy Magazine!

Which sadly I did not but somehow ended up flipping through a bunch of bridal magazines....Oh wedding planning how I  miss you! Just like a bad relationship now that all this time has passed it's so easy to just remember the good times.

Two Steps Forward...Two Steps Back

Be proud people I just applied to a job. Granted it's 1:15 in the afternoon and I told myself I wanted to be done by noon. It was definitely morning when I started working on it.  Hey, at least it got done.

For anyone out there on the job hunt...I feel you. Applying and looking for jobs is no easy task. It takes sheer determinaton to not just throw in the towel. Sure, it sounds so easy 'please submit your resume and cover letter' but writing a cover letter takes me for-EVAH. You can't just have a generic one you know-you want to tailor it to the job description plus I periodically send lines from my cover letter to my sisters and BFF for them to proofread to make sure I'm not commiting some kind of gramatical sin.

So, I've got one more job I want to apply to and at least one "networking" email to send but I'm procrastinating because I really find this whole applying for jobs and interviewing for jobs thing to be EXHAUSTING to my soul and mental happiness. 

But still be proud people because I did get one application done. Granted, I finished off a bag of my favorite Easter candy during the process....

Old People Class

Every Monday and Wednesday at 10:30 if you need to find me I'll be at the gym at my "old people class." I recognize this is perhaps, not the most politically correct way to describe my gym class but that's what I call it.

Technically, I think the class is called "Fit for Life" or something like that. It was the first class I ventured into taking after joining the gym earlier this year and I didn't really know what to expect. I got to the class early and there was an older lady already there that greeted me with a warm smile and told me I'd need hand-weights and a mat. Soon others started arriving and I couldn't help but notice they were... umm...kind of older than me...  I figured since it was during the day that the class would be full of stay at home moms but stay at home moms would be more like my age group and this was NOT my age group.

I actually thought about going to the front desk of the gym asking if this class was for seniors but what if it wasn't and what if someone in the class overhears me...I'd hate to offend anyone but at the same time I didn't want to spend an hour stepping from side to side for aerobic activity. I came here to burn calories damn't! 

Let's just say I totally walked out of that class thinking that perhaps the man upstairs couldn't wipe the smirk off his face.  Stepping from side to side?? Yea I'll show you stepping from side to side!!  I totally broke out into a sweat in the first few minutes and was sore for days. It was such a good workout and the people in this class are friggin' hilarious.

Do you remember this commercial from the Superbowl? It's a car commercial and it's set in a senior home where they're all talking over each other and yelling, WHAT? to each other.  This is my class.

Everyone knows everyone and have been working with the instructor for it seems like forever the way they talk. In my first class, half the ladies were more interested in gossiping asking the instructor,  "Have you seen, Jenny? Is Amy coming back?" I'm pretty sure this crowd was especially boisterous because it was right after the holidays and everyone was just catching up with everyone but it still made for one comical cardio session. The instructor plays off this crowd beautifully and never misses a beat. Ruth, your other left.  no your other left. NO YOUR OTHER LEFT.  There you go Ruth!

It really is a riot and I may call it my old people class but let me tell you these old people they mean business and could probably put a lot of younger folks to shame. My butt saunters in at 10:30 but they've already done the water aerobics class that started at 9.

I can only hope that I'm that active at their age. I totally give them props. And it warms my heart how kind they all are and how determined they are to do the moves even if they don't always get them right. One gentleman in particular is so sweet. Roy. Always says hello to everyone and calls me Miss. I have a huge crush on Roy.

So yea, I faithfully work out every week now with a bunch of "old people" that kick my butt and make me laugh out loud and that's my kind of workout.

Audacious

I admit, I'm not in the best of places right now. I've been driving the bitter, "woe is me" bus heading straight to pity-ville all the while playing Radiohead at full blast.

I've already abused chocolate. Made a batch of brownies yesterday under the guise of I'm just a good little wife that decided to bake her hubby brownies. Little did he know I stood over the sink licking that bowl like a junkie just thirty minutes before he got home.

The sick to my stomach feeling after I finished licking the bowl still wasn't enough self-destructive behavior that I decided to steal a play direct from my sister's playbook-retail therapy.  I went and bought me a hundred dollar pair of jeans. I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I LIKE THEM.

I know that feeling sorry for myself is a wasteful extravagance and yet I can't seem to stop watching old re-runs of Grey's Anatomy on Lifetime. Oh, it's shameful really. As soon as my hubby leaves the front door I'm grabbing  the remote and flipping from CNN to Lifetime. Grey's comes on at 9am. All the angst and turmoil why did I ever stop watching this show??? I'm pretty sure we stopped being Grey followers after we discovered  The Office and Michael Scott.

During more wasteful time in front of the television, I came across the movie, "Hope Floats" with Sandra Bullock where she plays a woman that goes back to her hometown after learning on a talk show that her husband wants a divorce. I didn't watch the entire movie, after all people I do have a job even if I do it in yoga pants and a brownie-mix stained t-shirt.

But there's one scene where Sandra's old high school flame gives sad, depressed Sandra a good, talking-to in attempt to whip her into shape and tells her,  "...you used to be so...audacious." Fighting words if I ever heard any. (this is what I thought AFTER I went to dictionary.com and made sure I knew the meaning of the word audacious) 

But you know what, I used to be audacious TOO. For goodness sake, I moved to New York city without knowing a single soul in this town. I used to be so fearless. Damn't I used to be 23!

Things have never come easy to me-and this isn't a pity party-it's the truth. There are some people that live their lives where things just seem to fall into place or at least in their career lives. This is not me. I may have ended up with a great job in the big apple but I got my start at the mail room. Literally the mail room. And it was humbling but let me tell you-you learn a lot about people based on the mail they get. I could share some stories with you! But I was in that mail room for only a few months and got my butt hired in the newsroom.

Don't get me wrong-I'm still bummed and yea... still a little bitter (I won't lie) but determined to at least try to get a little of my 23-year old self back.

Let Down

They say when one door closes it's so another one---the perfect one---opens. Well you can take your motivational speech and shove it where the sun don't shine.

I knew it was a long shot-I knew it was a miracle they even called me back after I applied for the job-heck usually I never even get a response so when I did get a call back...well let's just say this girl thought MAYBE just maybe her break has come and she'll finally land a job that fits her. . Anyway it doesn't matter because at 12:33 the HR lady sent the carefully worded email letting me know, it was GREAT talking to me but they've decided to "move on."

I guess I didn't even let myself know how much I really wanted that job until I learned I didn't get it because I certainly didn't think there'd be tears shed over the news.

I will be the first one to tell you that getting laid off, albeit under the umbrella of a recession and a bad economy hits you hard. There is comfort that you aren't the only one-that dozens of others in your  company met the same fate...yet you can't stop the voice inside your head that says,  still they choose you.

You-in their eyes were dispensable. Not the chic that sat next to you or across from you. You. You were laid off and no matter how much you try to shut that voice up-it's always there. And you've looked at it a hundred different ways and on a good day you tell yourself-you know what everything happens for a reason.
 
Well after two years in unfulfilling freelance gigs the "reason" is still a damn mystery to me.

Checking In....

So I feel like a little update is in order. Besides, I have a zillion things I should/NEED to be doing now so what better way to procrastinate than to update my lil' blog on my spiritual, oral and mental well-being?!

You know the whole "meditating for a minute" thing I was all gung-ho about that Oprah swear would make me happier? Yea...not going so well. I think maybe (and this is a stretch) I did it a total of five days. I don't know what it says about me that I can't seem to dedicate 60 seconds of my day to SILENCE.  60 seconds.

I faced Olga, my never satisfied hygienist last Wednesday. And let me tell you I really stepped it up. I can only think of TWO nights that I went to bed without flossing. Superbowl Sunday and the night of the Grammy's. Those margaritas really put me to sleep FAST. 

Less drinking = healthier teeth. 

Olga was still not satisfied; although...dare I say, she was a little kinder. She wants me to come back in three months. She says my gum line is receding and that my flossing isn't reaching far enough and my roots are going to be exposed and if that happens it'll REALLY SUCK so I have to fork out 150 bucks because my insurance doesn't cover more than two cleanings a year. I suppose I could just go back in six months but who wants an exposed root? That just sounds bad.

The SCAR from the SURGERY.  Well, it's been three months since the surgery and while my scarf collection has grown considerably...

This was my scarf collection right after the surgery...

And this is my collection now...

This whole scarf thing can't go on much longer. It definitely helps to have colorful array of options at my disposal-but the weather is starting to warm up and on a recent freakishy warm day when it was in the 60's, I went out to lunch with some friends. I wore one of my lighter-weight scarves but regardless it started getting H.O.T. After a long walk to the restaurant, and sitting too close to the fire in the restaurant (nice touch people but it's 60 degrees outside) I was over-heating and it was all I could do to not rip that scarf off. 

Maybe if I had been more consistent with my "meditation for a minute" thing I might have not grown so irritable in my own hotness.

I know this sounds ridiculous but I used to have a pretty good-looking neck! And I miss it. The location of the incision is in such an INCONVENIENT spot-it really is.  It's hard to find a necklace-that can really hide it. It's just too high up on the neck. And I'm not really into the whole choker thing.

I learned this the hard way when I was struggling to figure out what to wear to a business meeting.
Oh, what a nightmare it was. Scarves are great but when it comes to dressing in business attire I can't really see how to not look like an airline attendant...

or an un-hip, middle-aged mom....

This lady looks very nice, in fact I'd go as far as to say she's probably the nicest lady in the office but this is not me. I'm a YOUNG 30-something! I'm still hip...well kinda....

I was able to wear a button down shirt with a collar that went pretty high up and dug up some fake pearls on a flimsy string that my hubby was able to twist so they stayed higher up on the neck. 

So for now, I'm on a mission to find an everyday necklace that actually covers this scar or somehow figure out to pull out the Jackie O inspired look....

But let's be real. The chances of me pulling off a look like this are about as high as me becoming a dedicated meditator....slim to none. Maybe if I had Olga as my spiritual leader or stylist...at least I'd be scared into taking action. 

Bad Decisions

Life is full of decisions...and I just made a bad one.

Needed a lil afternoon snack....HAD the choice of a grapefruit...even took it out of the fridge.

(In my opinion a yummy grapefruit should be SLIGHTLY cold)

Wandered into the kitchen and in the few steps from my computer to the kitchen (it's a small apartment) remembered I had Easter candy stashed in my purse.

Yea we all know where this is heading....totally went with the Reese's Peanut Butter Egg.

How many ways can I screw up this interview?

I had an interview today.

I get really, really nervous when I have to go in for an interview.

Like, I'm talking straight up.not normal.serious.anxiety.

I've been walking around the apartment for the past day rehearsing my 30 second summary statement because I would rather die than go into a situation without you know..like a PLAN or at least an outline of what the heck I'm going to say.

Clearly, I didn't spend enough time worrying or perhaps I would've foreseen these unfortunate events.

First screw up.

Pantyhose.

Listen people, I'm no fashionista. But I do know that sheer, almost black pantyhose looks best with a black pencil skirt and heels.

I did think ahead to make sure I had a good pair of sheer, almost-black pantyhose in the drawer. I did not think ahead to make sure I had a BACK-UP pair of sheer, almost-black pantyhose.

Wouldn't you know it, I go to the bathroom right before I leave and yup, tear my pantyhose.

Panic.

Surely, I have another pair in the drawer, don't I?

Nope. Of course not.

I do find however, a pair of black tights.

Black tights..let me tell you people, they just don't look right with pencil skirt and heels! Listen, I don't make the rules people I just know it looks weird.

"Nonsense," my husband proclaims, "I don't even see a difference."

"You don't understand ANYTHING!" I cry.

But at this point..it is what it is. And there I am squeezing into my black tights only to discover they have white, fuzzy pills all over them.

Ohhh yea.. I remember these tights. These are tights I would just use to layer under clothes thus collecting white, fuzzy pills.

They are totally noticeable. Even hubby couldn't deny it. Five minutes before my scheduled time to walk out the door there is my husband on his knees, wrapping masking tape around his hand all in an effort to get rid of these white fuzz balls ALL OVER MY LEGS. (because of course our household doesn't own a lint remover roller thingie)

I, so do appreciate my husband coming home for lunch today to see me off to my interview.

But the show must go on. I make it to the interview with plenty of time and assure myself that I will maintain eye contact at all times so as to not allow the woman interviewing me to even have the CHANCE to notice the sad state of my appearance.

Second screw up.

I'm waiting for the woman that helped set up the interview in the lobby. I see her. I confidently walk up to her, smile and go to give firm and confident hand-shake and hear myself saying, "nice to MEET you."

Errr...REALLY??? I've met this woman before. In fact, this is our second meeting. Note to self, you say nice to MEET you when it's the FIRST TIME MEETING THAT PERSON!!!

augh I'm pretty sure she caught my error. Sure, it's not the end of the world but still....

I survived the interview, as for getting hired....we'll see...but it's been a long day.

All About Oprah

So I am all up Oprah's arse lately. It's sad but I feel like I just discovered Oprah which is unfortunate since this is her farewell season. But I've never really had the chance to be around a television at 4 in the afternoon.

Anyway, last week Oprah had this episode on Happiness and she and Goldie Hawn were adamant about the one thing you could do to become a happier person. Taking a moment of silence or meditating or breathing or whatever you wanna call it. I think they said that people who do this for 20 minutes a day are happier but Oprah said that even taking ONE minute would work wonders.

It seems simple enough and if Oprah said it..it must be true, right?

So, yesterday was the first of February and since January was a big ole' mess I decided February 1st would be my new start so to speak and I said I would start with my minute a day routine yesterday.

24 hours came and went and I couldn't find 60 seconds to improve my well-being. Big fail on my part. But there's always tomorrow right. So this morning before anything else I did my minute.

I admit I felt a lil' dorky and kept thinking am I doing this right along with a whole slew of other things. The mind sure can wander folks. But it was simple enough and so I'm gonna try to stick with it.

We'll see how this goes.

Olga

I hate disappointing Olga.

So I did what was necessary. I canceled our appointment. The receptionist was not pleased.

Olga is my dental hygienist. Olga is never satisfied and I mean never.

I know I take pretty darn good care of my teeth but it's never good enough for this woman.

And she doesn't have a soft touch, she really doesn't and she doesn't care if she hurts me. It's like she's purposely punishing me.

But seriously what do you expect from a woman named Olga???

Yes, I was a little over-zealous in my past and believed that a hard firm toothbrush was the only way to get my teeth clean. Apparently, I brushed away part of my gum line.

You'd think that over-brushing might win some brownie points with her...hey at least this chic brushes but nooo...not this lady.

And I DO floss OLGA. Fairly regularly. Although sometimes I may go to sleep half drunk therefore flossing doesn't ALWAYS happen.

Anyway last appointment I said I was going to really buckle down and make it a goal that a month before my appointment with Olga I'd really go the distance and floss very carefully and slowly, really reaching under the gum line. I would rinse with ACT every night and brush with sensodyne.

But somehow my appointment snuck up on me and I got a message on my cell that my appointment was tomorrow morning.

Let's just say flossing has been sporadic at best lately...

I can NOT face Olga yet. I pushed my appointment back two weeks which I'm not sure is enough time but I'll try...so if you need me I'll be flossing.

Never a Dull Moment..

As much as I whine and moan about how,  "I'm oh so tired of New York City and so sick of public transportation" blah blah I know that there's no place like a New York subway train.

You never know what'll happen or what you'll see.

This weekend the F train did not disappoint.

First event.

Kid maybe 7 or 8..not really sure. Rambunctious little thing.  Anyway, the train is not too crowded so he's got full reign. He starts spinning round and round as he holds on to the metal hand rail in the center of the train.

Here you go...to give you a visual....

Anyway..fine...whatever he's not bothering me.

But then ladies and gentleman, he starts MAKING OUT WITH THE HAND RAIL....

like LICKING IT...with his tongue!

Oh my.  I just shake my head and close my eyes just thinking about it.

What is wrong with this kid??? 

EVERYONE on the train joined me in grimacing and ewwwing under our breath.

What's worse is his mom just nonchalantly scolded him from afar. I think her words were, "don't do that" in like a monotone voice.

I'm no parent, but I think the occasion would call for a firm STOP THAT!!!! accompanied with dragging the child and his tongue away from the hand rail... at least in my humble opinion.

I was thankful for the Mariachi band that came in to distract me.

Second event and a much more pleasant one: asian baby with RED HAIR.

I'm talking RED hair. This kid was so cute and I wish you could see this kid because I mean seriously, how many of you out there have seen a cute, chubby asian baby with red hair?

It was a real nice shade too. Like, I bet women spend a fortune to get that kind of color out of a bottle.

You gotta love genetics...and NY too.

Maryland Perks

I think I've spent more time with my family in Maryland in just the first month of 2011 than most grown adults spend with their family throughout the entire year.

Last week we were down in Maryland again. The hubs got sent down to work out of the DC office and I was more than happy to tag along.

One of the nicest perks of visiting the family is my sister's bathroom.

It's like a combination of a make-up counter--slash--drug store--slash---apothecary-like feel.

See?

There's just bottles and bottles of little serums and moisturizers.

It's friggin fabulous.

Each day I try a new cleanser or a new eye cream. Poor hubs went in there looking for a moisturizer and was so overwhelmed I think he put on an overnight repair solution when he really needed a day moisturizer with SPF but it's ok.

But we're back in New York and I'm back to my oh-so-sad-in-comparison-daily facial routine.

you made your bed, now sleep in it

Somehow we ended up with a two thousand dollar mattress.

Mind you..this is only because my parents are crazy. Because I know I NEVER could've gotten my husband to agree to spend two grand on a mattress.

Last year my parents bought a new mattress-this really nice QUEEN size mattress. Mind you..they've been sleeping on a KING size mattress for..oh I don't know..fifteen years or so...

They couldn't deal sleeping on "such a small bed" and that's a direct quote from them. 

I gave them a hard time. You guys are married-it's okay to snuggle.

Nope-my Dad with a total dead serious look tells me he was afraid of falling off the bed.

This tickles my fancy because it totally goes to show you how we are such creatures of habit.

It's not like they're big people. Not tall-not overweight. They should be fine in a queen size bed.

They tried it out for a few months and were so miserable they sucked up the cost and went out and bought a new KING size bed.

Luckily for us, they were feeling generous and we needed a bed so they gave us the queen size "too small for them" bed.

But here's the irony of it all...I was down in Maryland my parents had already gone to bed. I left something in their bathroom and tiptoed through their bedroom.

There they were...all snuggled together in the MIDDLE OF THE BED. 

How could my Dad be afraid of falling off the bed when he sleeps in the middle of the mattress spooning my Mother??

But I'm not saying a word...I am enjoying my tempur-pedic mattress.

Bad Housewife...

You know it's bad when it's 1:30 in the afternoon and you're still in your PJ's. 

You know it's REALLY bad when you get off the phone with your best friend (who also works from home) and realize you've been on the phone with her for FOUR HOURS straight.

Four hours.

I couldn't even tell you what the heck we talked about for 240 minutes.

In our defense, we did finish our "work."

I started to feel guilty when the hubs called and innocently asked, "so whatcha been doing..."

I carefully replied..."oh just finishing my work..." 

Who are we kidding...my "work" was done a good hour ago. I spent the last hour checking out new blogs and playing free cell.

It's a blessing and a curse working from home.

Sometimes I'm disciplined...other times not so much.

It's not that I'm sitting at home eating bonbons all day and watching daytime TV but sometimes I couldn't tell you where the day went.

Like today, it's now 2:30.

I did make myself lunch and did the dishes and... what else...oh that's right I talked on the phone to Julie for four hours.....

Normal...is a good thing

Let's just say it's been a tumultuous start to the New Year. But things are finally starting to feel...normal and normal is my new favorite word.

It's been a good month since I've been on the medicine that replaces the hormones that my thyroid used to produce and so I went to the doctor's this week to go over the blood work to see how my body was responding. Test results: NORMAL.  And normal is good.

I feel such a sense of relief. I know that it's only been a month and there's plenty of time for things to get all screwy but I'm grateful that for the most part the surgery went well. I don't feel totally weird or tired like I was convinced I was going to.

The scar is..well what can I say. It's not as bad as some of the really scary pictures I saw out there on the web that totally freaked me out but it's still the first thing I see when I look in the mirror.

My butt finally got on a treadmill yesterday and after my sister shamed me in how bad I looked when I went to go visit her in Boston (let's just say the last thing you're thinking about is what the heck your hair looks like or make-up when your world is packed in plastic garbage bags and you just found out your sister got hit by a car) I finally dug out my contacts and whipped out the eye lash curler and mascara and wow, what a difference.

My apartment is starting to feel like my home again instead of my arch enemy. I even baked brownies last night for the hubs.

Yes, I'll very happily take normal. I love normal.

CLEAN

If I were a celebrity and I was being interviewed for some magazine and the reporter was like, "When do you feel the sexiest?"

My answer would be fresh from the shower.

I truly think there's nothing better than the feeling of being all squeaky clean. I feel relaxed and happy after the shower and think it's a shame most people shower only in the morning, rushing to work. I believe the fresh clean feeling should be enjoyed at home relaxing, winding down from the day not sardined in between strangers on the subway.

My perfume? Fittingly and simply called CLEAN.

My favorite Yankee candle? CLEAN Cotton.

My favorite thing ever..snuggling up to my husband and getting a whiff of fabric softener from his shirt.

Here's the picture I'm trying to paint here people...I like to feel CLEAN.

So imagine my dismay no HEARTACHE when I was faced with the news that my sanitary sanctuary in the city has been infested with bed bugs.

That's right we found bed bugs in our apartment. Bed bugs! Bed FLIPPING bugs.

How did this happen?? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? Weren't we the couple that stopped going to the movies ages ago because of news reports that they found bed bugs in New York movie theaters?

Wasn't I the girl that saved shopping for trips when I was visiting my family in Maryland because I was too skeeved out to go shopping in New York because of reports of bed bug outbreaks at retail stores?

I should have known it was a matter of time before some kind of vermin found me. My track record was too good to be true.

Six years in New York, four apartments, three boroughs and never, not ONCE did I ever have a roach or mice problem.

I would listen to co-worker's horror stories of living among pesky mice and their struggle to get rid of them; another co-worker who sheepishly admitted she gave up trying to fight the roaches in her apartment. I would listen wide-eyed and think, whew thank GOD I don't have to go through that.

Ha! Happy New Year-you have bed bugs.

Our lives have been turned upside down because of these damn things. I cannot even begin to explain what a process this has been. And there is so much misinformation out there and no one really talks about it because who the heck wants to admit THEY HAVE BED BUGS! Not me! That's for sure. I feel SHAME and dirty and for a girl who just wants to feel clean this is not an ideal situation.

Now, I know that we did not get bed bugs because we are "dirty." Nelson, our exterminator and my hero, assures me he's treated the cleanest and richest of places but I still don't want to be known as the girl with bed bugs! No one wants to admit they have/had bed bugs which makes it really hard to get real advice or real solutions. I struggled to find a real good website or blog.  And for every person that says "do this" you've got five others that say "no, do THIS."

I'll be honest,  I really hesitated about even posting a blog about our unwanted guests but the news girl in me thought that maybe it might help someone else.

I do recommend that everyone watch this guy. Yea,  even you people who think, this can't happen to me. HA! My friend, don't be naïve like I was. Heed my warning!   Anyway this guy,  Jeff White, is an entomologist and he seems to know his stuff. We didn't discover him till like day two or three of our infestation. He kindly says in one of his episodes if you think you have bed bugs don't panic. Gee,  thanks...clearly, you've never met me.

I am no expert-but will share what I've learned the hard way.

Don't think just because you change your sheets often and give your mattress a good lil' check each time and don't see anything that you're safe. We did this and clearly, this was a false sense of  security.  We found NOTHING on our top mattress they were all on the box spring so yea- these suckers hide and hide well so you really gotta check. I'm talking flip your bed and check the box spring thoroughly and frequently.

Oh and samesies at hotel rooms. I would pull the sheet back examine the top mattress a bit see nothing and hope for the best. Never again.

Don't think because you don't have bites that you are in the clear. My husband and I never had any bites. Well, I mean clearly we were being bitten because they were in our bedroom but we never had any visible red marks. So you know all those icky photos they put up in news reports of these horrible marks on people's bodies don't think you'll necessary get that. Not everyone has an allergic reaction to the bites.

And my final advice if you do have the misfortune of getting infected: Don't be afraid of the dryer.

So apparently it's well known that heat kills these suckers and their eggs.  (gross I know) Our exterminator and the apartment management folks told us to put everything through the dryer at the hottest temperature. Umm sure, that's fine for a lot of things but what about those jeans that are already maybe a little too tight and all those delicate tops that clearly state air dry.

Dry them dry.

The only things that shrunk on me are things that were wet that I stuck in the dryer. And most things can handle the dryer even my my faux leather bomber jacket.

Believe me you'll be spending enough money at the laundromat and/or the exterminator to send everything to the cleaners.

The irony of all this is that our home has never been cleaner. After we were treated by the exterminator he instructed us to do a thorough vacuum of everything and I mean everything. Picture frames, furniture, shelves, books, cd cases..basically-everything. 

He says these suckers like to hide in dust. Well, he didn't have to tell us twice. We vacuumed and scrubbed like there was no tomorrow. Even though there were no signs these suckers spread anywhere else we still decided to clean out the kitchen drawers, pull out the stove and fridge to clean.  Spring cleaning in January.

And even though I pride myself in not having a lot of stuff I learned or I should say I was forced to learn I could still go leaner and got rid of a lot of unnecessary stuff and while painful to go through it still feels good in the end.

And while things are slowly getting back to normal our cute lil' happy home is still in disarray for our standards. Once you launder and "disinfect" everything you're suppose to seal everything up so most of our belongings are still in plastic bags. We've seen no signs of them for almost two weeks and the exterminator came by again yesterday and declared us "bed bug free" but I'm still cautious that they're really gone. You see things on the web that say people battle these things for months we are hesitant to believe that after one treatment and a follow up our unwanted guests have left for good.

So for now we are living out of plastic bags. And for the couple who prides themselves as having unpacked an settled in within days of moving it sucks but life sometimes has a way of puttng life in perspective for you.

Friday night my sister in Boston calls me and starts the phone conversation like this:

Sis: Don't freak out, ok?

Me: ok.

Me to myself: Oh God something terrrible has happened..what's the worst thing that could happen??? Oh no! SHE HAS BED BUGS.

Sis: I got hit by a car.

Me to myself: Jesus what the hell is wrong with you?? You think the worst thing that could happen is bed bugs? No idiot, get some perspective on life your sister just got HIT BY A CAR!!! This is much, much worse!

Anyway, she is ok THANK GOD. (And seriously, Thank You God.) And while I am still actively freaking out I know there are worse problems out there and we'll get through this. But it still SUCKS. (Pun intended)

Sleep tight folks!