Tomorrow Is Another Day...

Family Fun, Track Marks and A Giveaway Winner!

Well, hello, blogland!  I've been trapped in a swirling vortex of travel, vacation, and drugs, but I return to you now on my first day alone since February 5th.  OH LORD DO I NEED SOME ALONE TIME.

I had a fantastic time in New York City with my mom and sister.  I was already completely exhausted before arrival, and as always, the city managed to wear me down to a tiny nub of myself before I made my escape back to the suburbs of the South.  I'll do a more detailed NYC post later, with a focus on the incredible theater experience I had.

I was thrilled to have my mom return home to Charleston and stay with me for a few days, then Colby's grandma arrived, followed by his parents.  So, for a few lovely days, we had a completely full house and finally managed to have all of our bedrooms filled at once.  We squeezed in some time for touristy things, but a big focus for the week was getting all of the big projects done so that the house will be ready for MLS photos and hitting the market this weekend.  Colby and his dad made some fantastic improvements, and all we have left is swiping some stain on the front steps, planting some flowers to up the curb appeal, and of course, my favorite part--cleaning the entire house.  Ugh.

And perhaps most excitingly, I started my Lupron injections on the 7th and after a stellar baseline ultrasound and estrogen check on the 20th, added two other drugs (low dose HCG and Follistim to stimulate the follicles to produce awesome eggs) to my rotation.  I inject the Lupron and HCG in the same syringe, so that's part of my morning routine, right between brushing my teeth and drinking my tea.  The Follistim is in this crazy pen contraption, and I inject that every afternoon as a prelude to happy hour.  

The Lupron injections weren't bad, but now that I'm adding in more stabs per day and injecting a larger amount of liquid, everything is starting to get a little more painful and a little bruisier.  I've been doing the injections on my thighs thinking that the skin is a little tougher and maybe less sensitive, but I'm starting to run out of spots without little pinhole bruises, so I may have to transfer to my abdomen or upper arms at some point.  Fortunately, my mom and Colby have made wonderful nurses, and so far no tears on my part, so things are okay.

FINALLY, drumroll please!  The winner of the Alice Bliss giveaway is Molly from A Foreign Land!!!!!  I'm so excited for you, Molly, and thanks for being patient with me.  I had big plans for getting back to blogging after my NYC trip and that obviously didn't really work out.  I'll email you about the shipping details.  And thank you so much to everyone else that entered!  I learned from this giveaway that jewelry is a much hotter commodity than books, but I hope you'll check out this book even if you didn't win.  It really is a great story!

Good Things

Last week was a whirlwind of events, and this week looks to be even crazier... followed by another busy week visiting my sister in NYC, then another busy week with multiple family members in town.  Fortunately, I had an incredibly low key weekend to recuperate and prepare myself for the onslaught.

But I'm really not complaining, because things have been going so much better than I thought possible.  We made our payments for our IVF cycle and my fertility medications, and much to our great shock, the total came to just a little over half of what we had budgeted.  Partially this is because we were initially planning on the multiple IVF cycle payment plan, so deciding to just go with the one cycle dropped our payments by about $5000.  Then there was the fantastic news that Tricare will cover part of the medication, dropping that payment about $2000 from our estimate.  Then, when we went to the clinic last week to sign some consents and get our finances in order, we were told that they had had a meeting with Tricare just the day before and the company had agreed to cover the $900 room fee.

It's funny how when you're preparing yourself for a bill in the five digits, a total in the four digits seems like pocket change in comparison.  I mean, a LOT of pockets full of change, but you know.  It softens the blow.

Still, we haven't quite cleared the financial obstacles ahead of us, so we aren't blowing our ravaged, but still intact nest egg on a round the world cruise or anything.  We hope against hope that we'll be one cycle wonders, but just in case we aren't, it's good to know that we've got a small buffer to help us through another cycle.

Then there's our beautiful, beloved Charleston home which we're planning to put on the market in mid-February.  We met with our realtors last week, and while they helped us feel a bit more optimistic that our house will sell fairly quickly, there's always the chance that we'll be responsible for two stateside mortgages as well as a steep deposit (usually one or two months rent) and rent payments in Germany.  But they seemed reasonably confident that we'll be able to at least get our money back on the house, and if we're lucky maybe a little more.

We've been spending each weekend for most of January going through each room of our house and making brutally difficult decisions about what will come to Germany, what will stay in storage in the US and what can go to consignment shops or Goodwill.  It's absolutely astounding the massive amount of stuff that accumulates with time.  We have only been here for two years and don't have an attic or a basement, so I honestly have no idea how all of this extra stuff has been floating around our house all this time.  But we are making progress, and I only have a few closets left to purge and plenty of time before the movers arrive.

I've also been working quite a bit, and still enjoying every minute of it.  I'm nannying four days a week, and with additional as-needed babysitting jobs, I'm typically working five or six days each week.  I'm very proud to say that with just a couple more weeks of work, I will have earned enough just from my jobs to cover our fertility meds.  The only regret I have is that I didn't get into this business a long time ago!

This week is full of more work, more home improvements, and lots of fun times with friends.  We've only got a little time left before our life changes dramatically in multiple ways, so I'm trying very hard to live each day to the fullest and not wish away the now in exchange for the unknown future.  Times they are a'changin'!

Charleston Marathon: The Half Aftermath

I did it!

Saturday morning, I rolled out of bed at 5 in the morning and bundled up in my warmest running attire for the coldest, longest run of my entire life.  I downed some maximum strength Mucinex, a glass of water, and grabbed a peanut butter sandwich for the road, and by 6:30 I was in the car with some friends on our way to the old Navy Yard.  As became the theme of the race, some people had some issues with the shuttle buses dropping them off late for the start of the race, and I would certainly agree that they could have used a few more buses at the finish, but I also feel like if you show up at 7:30 for a race that starts at 8 am 13 miles away, you can't really be toooo angry if you aren't there exactly on time.

The buses dropped us off a couple of blocks from the start and we got in the long line for the porta potties.  Fortunately, the lines moved pretty quickly, and I had plenty of time to drop off my bag and we got to the start about 10 minutes before 8.

It was still in the mid 30s at this point, and the wind was whipping pretty strongly.  I had on some capri running pants, and spaghetti strap cami under the long sleeve race tee under a zip up compression running jacket.  I had cut the feet off some wool socks and was wearing them like leg warmers, and some ear muffs, and still we were hopping around trying to keep warm.  Finally, it was start time, and while the walk up to the start mat was slow, I was able to get off to a good pace as soon as I hit the starting line to the blasting theme of Chariots of Fire.  I was very glad that they were using chip time instead of just gun time to track our race time.
The first four miles were beautiful.  We started at the top of East Bay and made our way around the peninsula, running through the historic downtown and along the beautiful battery.  Fortunately, despite the cold, the sun was shining and it was truly a magical feeling knowing that all of my training had led up to this moment.  Unfortunately, as documented here, I'd gone a long ten day stretch with no running at all, had only fit in three training runs in the week prior to the race (3 miles, 4 miles, and 5 miles) that had all been incredibly awful, and I was still coughing and feeling a bit of congestion in my chest, so the magic was not to last for long.

I started to cough a bit around mile 5, which was also the first time I actually saw a mile marker.  This was also right around the time that I realized I had accidentally pushed a button on my watch that stopped my timer and I had no idea how long I'd been running.  This was also around the time that the route got a lot less scenic.  The good part of the route is that it was incredibly flat--I can see how adding in more scenic parts of the lowcountry would require bridges which of course involve inclines.  But I wouldn't have minded crossing the Ravenel Bridge to get into the Mt Pleasant/Shem Creek area instead of the exceptionally sketchy North Charleston area.  However, at mile 8 I was extremely grateful for the flat road, and mile 9 marked the longest I had ever gone in a training run.

I was feeling pretty tired at this point, and my hips were a little sore, but I was lucky that there was plenty of water and Powerade available at each of the mile markers.  Apparently this didn't hold true for some people, and I can't imagine how brutal it must have felt running all those miles with no hydration.  By the time I hit mile 11 my legs were DONE and I was just praying to make it to the end of the course.  I was still forcing myself to run some, but there was a lot of walking happening at this point.
The course did get a bit prettier in the last couple of miles as we ran through a residential area and along the waterfront, and my mood improved when I saw mile 12 looming.  I got my last cup of water and took off for the end of the course.  I finished the race at a run, and crossed the finish line at 2:38:37, or a 12:05 minute mile pace.  I got my medal (which again, a number of racers who finished after me didn't get because the organiers ran out early), and suddenly there was Colby with his camera and a giant hug.

I collapsed on the curb to attempt a stretch while I sent him off in search of water.  At the moment, I was thinking thank jebus that's over, but with some reflection and distance I'm really thinking I'd like to to another half.  I think with proper training and hopefully not getting sick right before the race, I could probably shave about a minute off of my pace, and I really did find the majority of the run bearable.  It was only the last few miles that were miserable at the time and I think it was only because I'd never made it that far in my training.  I was pretty sore and tired on Saturday after the race, Sunday I actually felt a little less sore, and by Monday I felt totally back to normal.

Charleston Marathon specific, I think the course could certainly use some improvements, and for safety reasons, there MUST be water along the course for everyone.  People came from 46 states to participate in this race, and it would be nice to show them the beauty of the lowcountry instead of strip clubs and crack dens.  But I did very much appreciate the flatness of the course, and I think for it only being the race's second year in existence they did a great job.
Up next is the Cooper River Bridge 10K at the end of March.  Today I'm hitting the pavement again for my first post-race run, but I'm excited about cutting out some of my runs each week and adding back in my quality time with Jillian Michaels and Jackie Warner.

Deutschland, Deutschland

It's hard to believe that just a little over two years ago I was excitedly announcing our assignment to Charleston, South Carolina.  A week and a half ago, I was still laboring under the delusion that we would be living here happily for at least another year--probably a bit longer.

Then Friday we got the news that we will be moving to Germany.  In May.

It's been three days since that shocking, sweeps week reveal, and things are finally starting to sink in.  We knew there was a chance that it would happen--we did put our name in the hat, so it wasn't entirely unexpected, but I don't think either one of us expected to actually get picked for the assignment.

There is so much to think about.  Colby will be coming home early from the deployment so that he can go to training for the new aircraft from March through April, then we'll be on our way to Europe a couple of weeks later.  We have to find out if we can squeeze in a round of IVF.  We have to sell our house, we might sell a car.  We have to decide what will go into storage while we're overseas, what will come on the quick shipment to live with us while we're in temporary housing.  We have to learn some German.  We have to get the dogs microchipped and injected full of various substances so that they can become international travelers.

And so, so much more.

But I am so, so excited.  Both of us have been dreaming of moving to Germany since we joined the Air Force.  We had really accepted that it probably wasn't in the cards for us since there are such limited opportunities there for someone on Colby's career path.  Then with our baby plans, it's not the best timing in the world, but one thing I've learned is that there is no such thing as perfect timing and you have to take advantage of opportunities when they arise.  Because they may never come around again.

So.  Anyone want to come visit me in Germany?

Marathon Woman

I've been keeping a secret from you.  Not intentionally.  And not very well.  But it appears that in attempting to keep up with all of my various forms of social media, one eensy weensy little thing fell through the cracks on this old blog of mine.

Remember after I ran that 10K in April, and I was all, that was great, but believe you me, I will NEVER run a half marathon?

Well, I'm training for a half marathon.  Have been since October.

I'll wait while you all peel your jaws off of the floor.

Honestly, I didn't think I had it in me.  In fact, I wasn't even all that interested in having it in me (that's what she said).  But then a funny thing happened.  I went through month after month of people telling me all of the things that my body can't do.  Or does improperly.  My ovaries are geriatric.  I'm growing a polyp farm on my uterine lining.  I'm seemingly incapable of making a baby the way billions of women have since the beginning of time.

It made me sad.  It made me angry.  It made me determined.  I wanted to prove to myself that my body is capable of anything I tell it to do.  When faced with one failure, I searched my mind for the most improbable feat I could possibly conquer.  I came up with running a marathon.  Then I had a good long laugh and started researching half marathons.

I found one in its second year in Charleston, taking place in mid-January.  The timing couldn't have been more perfect.  I could kill many hours (many, many hours) during Colby's deployment.  I could keep my body burning tons of calories around the most gluttonous time of year.  And it wouldn't interfere at all with our spring time baby making plans.

I searched around online for a training program that I felt fit me best and settled on Hal Higdon's Novice 2 schedule.  It's meant for people who are not new to running but are new to half marathons.  Then I bought a new pair of shoes, started taking a daily dose of glucosamine chondroitin for my achy joints.  Then I started running.

So far, I've gotten up to 8 miles.  In a row.  All at once.  And you know?  It's not as bad as I thought it would be.  At this point, I can't say that I'm going to be a regular half-marathoner.  My body wasn't built for running--every minute, every mile is a slog to the finish.  I find myself semi-enjoying myself right up until about five miles, then I start having illicit thoughts about my sofa.  BUT.  At the end of each long run, I feel an incredible rush of accomplishment.  Realizing that I set a goal, and I achieved it.  That I can set another goal and achieve it.  That it's just one foot in front of the other, until I reach the end.

It's actually kind of poetic how it echoes our infertility journey.  It all started with denial and fear, and now we're tying on our metaphorical running shoes and putting one foot in front of the other.  You can't run 13 miles without running the first mile.  And every mile-marker you pass puts you closer to the finish line.

As of today, I have less than a month until race day.  I'm excited, and terrified, and filled with self-doubt, but my goal is just to finish.  If I have to walk, crawl, or swipe some roller skates, I will cross that finish line.

I wish all finish lines could be so definite.  It would be such a relief to know what the future holds, and how much longer we have to keep running.  But I know our finish line is just up ahead, and with a little endurance, a lot of strength and a positive attitude, we'll get there.  And then the finish line will be just the beginning.

Poor Unfortunate Soul

It has been way too long since I blogged.  I've kept myself quite busy since my last post, and kept thinking, "I really must blog this," but now that I'm sitting down to write, I'm having trouble remembering all of the terribly interesting activities I've been getting up to.

Well, for one, I had my hysteroscopy last week, and the doctor removed a polyp from my uterus.  I'm proud to say that I have been polyp-free for four days now.  It was actually surprisingly painless, though I'm a little concerned that I may be a drug addict now.  My anesthesia was absolutely dreamy--literally, I had a wonderful dream having to do with a large Christmas tree and angels--and for 20 minutes I enjoyed the best sleep of my entire life.  I actually managed to wake up from anesthesia feeling remarkably rested.  Well, after it took 2 nurses to transport me from the procedure room to recovery.  For a minute there I felt more like I'd just downed three cosmos and a panty dropper than like I was recovering from minor surgery.
As a side-note, ever since I discovered that I may be rife with uterine polyps, I've been imagining that inside of me is a tiny reproduction of Ursula's garden of unfortunates in The Little Mermaid.  I imagined mine as a sort of greying, mustachioed little man--an unholy combination of a polyp and the Lorax.  I kind of miss him now that he's gone.

My parents were in town for the week, to ensure that I did not have any sort of anesthesia related emergencies, not the least of which included perusing the underbelly of Craigslist for enterprising doctors who may be convinced to ply me with a steady drip of propofol on a nightly basis.  They kept mentioning Michael Jackson.  I got the message loud and clear.

When we weren't spending quality family time at the fertility clinic, we managed to have a little fun out on the town.  They treated me to a mouth-wateringly delicious anniversary dinner at Hall's Chophouse in downtown Charleston, my mom and I spent a day knocking out our Christmas lists, and we even squeezed in a matinee of The Muppets.  I still tear up when I think about The Rainbow Connection number, though that may have still been the remnants of drugs giving me such a warm, glowy feeling.

They headed home on Friday, and I spent the weekend recovering from all of my non-hermit behavior with a full DVR and a new book.  I even managed to squeeze in a little money-making, babysitting for a new family with three adorable kids.

All in all, it's been a good few weeks, and my mood has been, for the most part, pretty elevated.  I feel like I've finally gotten into my deployment groove, and have somewhat acclimated to my routine of single spousehood.  Obviously, I really wish that Colby could be here for all of the holidays and, well, everything, but I'm in a pretty good place, and it seems like time is going by a little more quickly now than it did a few weeks ago.  I've still got plenty to keep me busy with my favorite hobby of uselessly stressing and fretting, but at least now when I cry I generally have a pretty good reason!

Domino's Effect

Oh World, why do you keep finding new and uncharted ways to torment me?

If you know me at all, you are most likely aware of my deep and abiding affection for Domino's Pizza.  It all started on a cold December day, with a packed-to-the-gills moving truck just pulling up to our brand new life in South Carolina.  Because we firmly believe in the power of bribery when it comes to getting the best work out of our movers, we always buy them pizza and sodas and hang out with them at lunch time.  They usually end up being kind of awesome people with pretty fascinating lives, and in each of our moves they've gone the extra mile to help us in a number of various beyond the call of duty ways.  Let that be a life lesson.  Pizza brings people together.  And greatly reduces the amount of paperwork required by filing damage claims.

Anyway, we had noted upon driving into our neighborhood that there was a Domino's near the entrance, and they were running some kind of ridiculous deal on carry out pizzas.  So we loaded up on some pepperonis and supremes and prepared to worm our way into the hearts of some manual laborers.  Much to my shock, having not gone near a Domino's in ages, the pizzas were incredibly delicious.

The crust was garlicy and perfectly seasoned.  The cheese to sauce ratio was downright scientific in its perfection.  The sauce itself was delightfully tomatoey without the cloying sweetness of some unnamed competitors (cough, Schmapa Ron's, cough), instead balancing the acids with zesty red pepper.  From that day forward, a pizza love affair blossomed.

I got to know my pizza makers through the magic of the Pizza Tracker, always hoping that my favorite and generous with the cheese pizza artist, Christoper (yes, Christoper) would be in charge of my order.  Clapping my hands in delight when my order showed itself as winging its way toward my front door and otherwise daydreaming about these mysterious People Behind the Tracker.  I looked forward to the nights when Colby was away when I could curl up with a movie, a bottle of cheap wine, and a delicious Domino's Pizza.

Then it happened.  After nearly two years of the New Recipe Renaissance, I noticed a steady decline in the quality of the pizza.  The sauce began to taste less kicky.  The cheese and toppings were almost entirely missing on some slices.  The dough was returning to its former tasteless beginnings.  Worst of all, Christoper seemed to have moved on to greener pastures, as his name vanished from my Tracker, leaving me with a steady parade of less qualified replacements.

And last night was the final straw.  After over a week of spending hour upon hour in the kitchen, stirring, baking, cooking, and injecting, I had been looking forward to a quiet night on the couch with my Domino's and my DVR.  And my pizza?  It was nothing short of disgusting.  Tasteless.  Greasy.  Only the most scant smattering of cheese and toppings over a scraping of sauce.  As I chewed my way through a most disappointing pizza experience, my heart shattered into a million pieces.

I don't know where I'll go from here.  I feel so unready and unwilling to jump back into the pool of delivery pizza options.  I thought we had such a good thing going for us, Dominos and I.  I feel betrayed, lost, alone.  Hungry.  Every time I look at that Ziploc full of leftovers in my refrigerator, those feelings of disgust and revulsion bubble back to the surface.  How could you do this to me, Domino's?  I LOVED YOU!!!

(Christoper:  If you're out there, find me.  I've got an oven in my kitchen and a pizza shaped hole in my heart to fill.  This could be the start of something beautiful.)

Thanksgiving in Review

Such a good week I've had!  Things have been busy, busy, busy and I feel like I could nap until the end of time.  My parents got in on Monday evening, and Tuesday I did a little babysitting then came home in time for Thanksgiving grocery shopping then happy hour and dinner.  Wednesday we kicked off the Thanksgiving cooking and baking extravaganza, then went out to dinner and saw the Charleston Jazz Orchestra's Holiday Swing, one of my newest and most favorite Christmas traditions.

We got a ton of prep done on Wednesday, so on Thanksgiving morning we had a little time to relax before we got back to the kitchen.  I was hosting at my house, and my friends brought some sides, but we were in charge of the turkey, desserts, appetizers, drinks, and when one of my friends got sick and couldn't make it, we also inherited the stuffing.  We were frying the turkey, so we made a rub and injection and put my dad in charge of turkey operations.  Dessert consisted of these absolutely incredible S'mores Cookie Bars (thanks, Pinterest!) and Martha Stewart's Triple Chocolate Pumpkin pie.
Our fried turkey turned out absolutely SUBLIME.  It was crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside and SO flavorful.  We had a very minor mishap when dunking the bird into the bubbling oil--because there was still so much of the injection retained, there was a bit of a liquid/oil overflow leaving my driveway with forever memories of a wonderful holiday.  We also had a lot of fun seeing Thanksgiving through new eyes as one of my friends who joined us is from Australia, so needed the full history lesson to fully understand why Americans gorge themselves on turkey and pumpkin pie annually.

With Thanksgiving behind us, I enjoyed a wonderful weekend with my parents, relaxing and recovering from the holiday prep, watching LSU beat Arkansas in the Battle for the Boot, fitting in a bit of tourism with a visit to the Hunley, and taking care of the turkey leftovers by making a delicious turkey, sausage, gumbo!  It made a vat big enough to feed an army, so we ate what we could, put some in the refrigerator, then froze about a third of it for when Colby comes home.

Now they're off in Disney World and I'm back to real life for a week, working, running errands that fell by the wayside, and resting up for their return on Friday evening!  They'll be here for the week so that they can bring me to my hysteroscopy on the 7th and then monitor me for the next day to make sure I don't have any nasty reactions to the anesthesia.

I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving (if you reside in the States, that is!).  Anyone else host at their house?  Did you go home for the holiday?  Can't wait to catch up on all of your holiday adventures :)  And now, ONTO CHRISTMAS!!!

ThankFALL Thursday

See what I did there?

It's funny, because this week I am giving thanks for the wondrousness that is fall in the South.

For as long as I can remember, fall has been my favorite season.  I read a quote in Southern Living that said fall is a Southerner's reward for surviving summer, and that couldn't be more true.  Everyone is maniacally excited to shed their winter coats at the beginning of beach season, but by the end of August, the entire population of the South is lying prostrate in front of their air conditioning vents, melting into a pool of their own perspiration, begging the good Lord to deliver them from face melting temperatures and oppressive humidity.

And then comes the beginning of October, with its brief, rejuvenating snap of cool weather, followed by week upon week of utter mid 60s-low 80s perfection.  It is still warm enough to squeeze in a last few moments with your favorite summer dresses, but the days cool down enough to justify boots and a light cardigan.  It's not so cold that you have to cover up your perfect fall ensemble with a bulky coat, and the nights are made for sitting around a fire pit and tying on whimsical scarves.

I never realized just how glorious fall in the South is until I moved to Washington.  In short order, I developed a Pavlovian response to the calendar turning to September.  Except instead of drooling, I whimpered into my wooly socks and bid a heartbroken farewell to the sun for the next six months.  I survived the cold, damp, grey days for two fall seasons and by the end of those two short years, "fall" had become a dirty word in our household.  We just didn't talk about it.  And I decided to take my cancery risks in the tanning bed in an effort not to kill myself in much quicker ways.

But now we are back in the South, and I am rejoicing in the beautiful weather that we've been experiencing and that will be coming our way for another month or so before the much cooler winter temperatures set in.  I don't know what the Air Force has in store for our next assignment, so for now I'll just revel in each day of perfect Southern autumn that I'm given, and dream of the day when I'll never have to dread fall again!

Off To A Good Start

I decided to begin this deployment as I mean to go on.  No... not crying alone in my car.  Not inhaling an entire carton of Pringles and a bag of Twizzlers in one sitting...  Maybe let's just not actually take Thursday into account at all.  But from Friday on, I was bound and determined to have a Good Weekend.

I kicked things off on Friday evening with a girls' night at a friend's house.  We ate tons of junk food, played corn hole in the dark (I still don't fully grasp that game), watched YouTube videos, and generally just helped take each others' minds off the fresh absence of our husbands.  I had intended to spend the night, but around 2 in the morning, I felt an overwhelming wave of homesickness and just wanted to be at my house.  Fortunately, I didn't have to call my mom to come pick me up--being 28 is SO much better than being six!

Saturday, I got the house in order, went for a four mile run, and made a sizeable dent in our DVR backlog.  Then, yesterday, I tried out Barsa, a tapas restaurant downtown, with a friend.  We've both been facing a lot of the same obstacles over this past year, so it's always nice to hang out and know that the other person just "gets it".  Also, the drinks and food were delicious!  I was thrilled to see "Pisco Disco" on the cocktail menu.  When I had my bachelorette weekend in New York many moons ago, we went to a swanky club where we ordered and subsequently fell in love with, Pisco Punch.  It's not a liquor I see on a menu often, but when I do I always try it out and bask in the fond memories.

I also uploaded a profile to a couple of babysitting sites, and have even booked a couple of jobs with a friend!  I'm really focused on trying to make some money over this deployment to put toward our Baby Buying Fund, and I like that with babysitting I can still retain some flexibility and make about the same hourly wage (if not more, which is pretty sad) than I would in many local office and childcare jobs.  Hopefully the jobs start trickling in soon.

This upcoming week is also pretty full, and I'm looking forward to brushing off the Alice in Wonderland costume for some Trick or Treating at the Outlets this afternoon!  Happy Halloween!!

Wamp Wamp Weekend

Well, I tried to go into someone's house yesterday to claim it as my own, but everyone has ADT signs outside.  I didn't feel like getting the police involved in my attempted imperialism.  Also, it rained all day and I didn't want to tromp mud into someone's house.

Anyway, this wasn't the worst weekend ever, but I'm not gonna lie, it was pretty pathetic.  Colby has been working his butt off to finish his Masters program, and this semester he's taking two pretty intense classes.  So, his weekend was spent with his nose in a book trying to work out complicated accounting problems in preparation for his midterm tomorrow.  I'd hoped we'd be able to have a little bit of fun around the city since this is our last weekend in Charleston before his deployment, but alas, studies come first.

I did manage to shoehorn a little bit of fun into my weekend spent mainly either in front of the tv or behind a book.  Friday night, I spent my evening surrounded by jewels at a Lia Sophia party.  I went in promising myself I wouldn't spend much, and ended up with a sparkly necklace and two pairs of earrings.  But really, I SAVED so much money!

Saturday, I went for an absolutely glorious four mile run in the neighborhood.  Charleston is currently in the midst of one of the two or three months out of the year where it is quite enjoyable to run outside, and I've been taking full advantage.  It was my first time back up to the four mile mark since we got back from our vacation, and I saw a definite improvement in my pace from the last time I ran it.  I'm still slow as molasses, but more like warm molasses as opposed to cold.

Sunday, I dragged Colby out for a date night at a new (to us) pizza place before he buried himself back in schoolwork.  Then Monday rolled around, rainy, grey and uneventful.  The lazy weekend caught up with me last night, and I was wide awake until about 3:30 in the morning.  Of course, I did nothing to stop the vicious cycle by staying in bed until (cough, mumble, cough) 11 o'clock (cough) this morning.  But tonight, I'm hitting up the melatonin early.  I may not be able to conquer entire inhabited continents through the use of flags and deadly disease, but sleep?  Sleep I WILL conquer!

Past, Present, Future

I've been spending an awful lot more time lately traveling and recapping trips than keeping the old blawg up to date on my day to day life.  Posts have been a bit sparse because we've had a pretty busy time of it.  October is a huge transition month for us, with lots of good things leading up to the huuuuuge bummer that is Colby's next 120-day deployment.  We've been dreading it for ages--probably ever since we found out that it would be less than a year from his last return that he would leave again--so in a way, I think we're ready to just get it started so it will be over soon.
Last week, my fabulous friend, Jessica, and her recently aquired husband visited Charleston for a few days.  I crashed their romantic vacation a few times, making awkward Sister Wife jokes, and the highlight was certainly our dinner at the much buzzed about restaurant, Husk.  From being Bon Appetit's recently named #1 new restaurant in America, to Sam Sifton, the New York Times restaurant critic (and soon to be National Editor), calling it the best place to eat outside of New York City, Husk is possibly one of the most talked about restaurants in the country, and certainly in the South.  

From the website: At Husk there are some rules about what can go on the plate. “If it doesn’t come from the South, it’s not coming through the door,” says Brock, who has even stricken olive oil from the kitchen. As he explains, the resulting cuisine “is not about rediscovering Southern cooking, but exploring the reality of Southern food.”

And it was absolutely delicious.  I could have eaten an entire vat of the bacon and cheese grits, and my seared duck breast seemed to melt in my mouth.  Everyone else was thrilled with their meals as well, and given that the menu changes every day based on what is in season and locally available, I'm looking forward to seeing what the options will be at a different time of the year.  

Jessica and I also did some damage on the shops on King Street, and tried out the seafood at Coast restaurant.  Verdict: Decent food, TERRIBLE service.  It was so much fun to relive our memories of meeting in Ireland when we were just wee little college students, and it was great to get to know her husband better.

Once they left town, the weather shifted drastically, and Fall was upon us.  I've been enjoying my boots and new sweaters and plan to enjoy these cool temperatures for as long as they last.  I spent Saturday night drinking wine around a firepit with friends, and it was the perfect way to welcome in the new season.

Today, we're bracing ourselves for our first visit with a reproductive endocrinologist at a local fertility center.  I've been researching the doctors and the clinic success rates online, and I'm feeling incredibly hopeful about what we'll discuss today.  More on that later.

As for the rest of the month, we're heading to an LSU game in Tennessee on the 15th, then driving down to Louisiana to spend some time with Colby's family.  I'm looking forward to seeing the Tigers continue their incredible winning streak in Knoxville, and having someone to split the drive home with me!  But we'll leave it at that, because after we get back home comes the depressing part of the month, and right now I just want to focus on the good.

For the Love of Charleston

Today's blogger is the lovely Dana from Really, What Were We Thinking?  And her post made me miss Charleston before I've even had a chance to leave it!

When Angela put out a call for guest bloggers during her vacation, I felt like I had been handed a gift.

I spent three wonderful years living in the Charleston area and I have missed it every day. I am always amazed by how much just being in the lowcountry revives my soul. The heat, the humidity, & the smell of the salt marsh are all part of me. It’s been almost 10 years since I left Charleston, which has given me ample opportunities to reminisce about her. However, I’ve never committed my best memories of Charleston to paper, or in this case, the internet.

So, here you go, in no particular order, some of my favorite things about where the Ashley & the Cuppah rivahs meet to form the Atlantic Ocean…

1 – the smell – I am NOT referring to the hot horse pee smell S.O.B. (South of Broad) during the summer. I’m talking about the smell of the salt marsh. I love it. It smells like life. Did you know the saltmarsh is a fully self-sustaining ecosystem? Pretty awesome, eh? Think about that the next time you think pluff mud stinks.

2 – the people – Charleston natives are some crazy people. Crazy in a fun “OMG are you for real?” possibly drunk kind of way. I had to do a lot of genealogical research for a job in Charleston and, well, the S.O.B. tree doesn’t have a lot of branches and I think that adds to the charm of local blue-bloods.The city itself is actually quite cosmopolitan. I met people from all over the world while living and working there. My best friend was a born & bred Long Islander who loves the city as much as I do.

3 – the food – Shrimp, grits, blue crabs, grits, shrimp, she-crab soup, grits, shrimp --- You can probably see where that is going, huh? I’ve never had she-crab soup as good as ANY place in the Charleston area. Sure, there are imitators but they never live up to snuff. If you don’t like fresh seafood and smooth, creamy grits, I don’t know what to tell you.

4 – the outdoor activities – I worked for the Charleston County Park & Recreation Commission and if you live in Charleston County and are not taking advantage of this excellent park system, you need to fix that RIGHT NOW! Visit Caw Caw Interpretive Center in Ravenel. It’s awesome for birding, canoeing,and learning about the history of the area. It’s not as far away as it seems and it’s a nice oasis if you are tired of the crazy possibly drunk drivers and crowded streets. The big festivals and concerts at James Island County Park are worth it. I also love the beaches. Sullivan’s Island has always been my favorite, but Folly & Isle of Palms were a lot of fun, too.

5 – the walkability of downtown – There is so much to do in such a small area. Downtown Charleston is really tiny and crowded. It was a pain to drive around & park when I had a little old Volkswagen Fox. However, it is a great little city to see on foot. You can park and walk to almost any type of shop, bar, restaurant, clothier, or bank you want to see! You are never at a loss for something to find (and buy). We’ve been hard pressed to find cities that compare to Charleston in this respect, especially on the East Coast.

What are your favorite things about Charleston or your favorite city? Have you taken the time to be a tourist in your own town?

Eating Charleston

Have I mentioned lately how much I love Charleston?  Because I LOVE Charleston.  I love the culture, I love the historic homes, I love the beaches, I love the live oaks and spanish moss, I love the quirky people, I love the importance placed on the arts, I love the festivals.  But mostly, I love the restaurants.

The fluffy, creamy grits.  The fresh, local ingredients.  The seafood.  The down home cooking.  The gourmet fusion dishes.  Of the many, many restaurants that we've tried since moving here, I can count on one hand the number of times that I have been disappointed in my meal.  People here know how to cook, and as the restaurant culture flourishes, we're seeing more and more "big city" chefs moving into the Holy City and local chefs expanding their menus beyond the always favorite shrimp & grits and shecrab soup to try their hands at more experimental cuisines.  Over the past week, I've been thrilled to add three new favorites to my list, scattered across the lowcountry.

via

It doesn't look like much from the outside, but the menu at FIG (a playful acronym for "Food is Good") is nothing short of decadent.  Colby and I went here with two other friends who have been to even more of the top Charleston restaurants than we have, and we all agreed that this was the best meal from start to finish that we've had in the city.  It even rivals my previous favorite meal ever at John Besh's August in New Orleans.  I started my meal with a refreshingly delicious lemon basil cocktail, then our table split the ricotta gnocchi with lamb bolognese and Johns Island tomato tart tatine appetizers.  My meal was a melt-in-your-mouth Caw Caw Creek suckling pig confit, and I rounded off the evening with a dense, creamy chocolate budino with sea salt caramel and hazelnuts that perfectly balanced the rich sweetness of the chocolate.  

The only drawback to our experience was that I happened to be sitting just below a leak in the ceiling--it took a couple of drops for me to figure out what was happening, and when a waiter saw me gazing at the ceiling in consternation he just suggested that I move my chair over slightly.  That did put a slight... wait for it... damper on the evening.  Even so, we don't get many opportunities to return to restaurants because there are so many left that we want to try, but this one will definitely get our business again.

via

While FIG is located in the heart of downtown Charleston, Caliente Lowcountry Cuisine is a delicious spin on Mexican food plunked down off the highway in rural Johns Island.  There were a number of familiar favorites on the menu, like my old standby the enchilada, tacos, quesadillas, and more, but there's a twist on each item in the meat options.  There's pulled pork, citrus chicken, beef brisket, pulled chicken and more.  The concept is that this is lighter Mexican fare with fresh ingredients, which made the fried cornbread all the more perplexing, but aside from the disappointment of the cornbread that tasted overwhelmingly of grease, the rest of my meal was delicious.  The white wine margarita was a bright, delicious version of the oftentimes overly sugary staple of Mexican restaurants.  The queso was velvety and creamy and each handcut and fried tortilla chip was the perfect crunchy complement.  My enchiladas were gooey, delicious cheesiness, and each bite paired perfectly with the side of flavorful black beans.  We've been searching high and low for a delicious Mexican restaurant and I'm happy to say I think I've finally found it!

via

Wine Awhile is not a restaurant, but a wine bar that offers a small selection of appetizers.  I'm featuring it though, because it's not just any wine bar, it's an experience.  When you arrive, your first step is to pay the one time fee for a $2 card that looks much like a plastic hotel key card, then load it with money.  You're given a glass and sent over to what can best be described as a vending machine wall of wine bottles.  You insert your card into the indicated slot, a digital read out tells you how much money is left on your card, and above each bottle are listed three prices: one for a small taste (probably about 2 oz), a half glass, or a full glass.  There are 16-20 bottles available for sampling, and by allowing the small taste option, you're able to try a number of delicious whites and reds for a very reasonable price before committing to a half or full glass.

We ordered the spinach artichoke dip and hummus with pita triangles, and both snacks were delicious.  This bodes very well for the future gourmet burger restaurant that the owner disclosed will be opening shortly in the location behind the wine bar.  The prices are reasonable, the wine is tasty and it's just plain fun to dispense your own wine from the winestations.

Happy and Healthy

I don't even know where to begin talking about the last few days.  I've had Colby with me, I've gotten to cuddle a baby, we've gotten piles and piles of much needed rain... it has been so good.  A lot of my focus lately has been centered on the part of my life that isn't going the way I want.  Nine months ago, I thought that I would have a baby either in my arms right now, or soon to be arriving.  The past couple of months have been extremely difficult in that regard.  It's a challenge reconciling my expectations with reality.  That being said, all is NOT sadness in my life.  The moments of sadness are there, but overall, I am so lucky with the lot that I've been dealt.

I suppose in the wise words of Maria von Trapp, let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.  Friday, Colby got home from a week in New Mexico and Colorado where he'd had a fun hiking, camping, and fishing trip with one of his oldest friends.  That night, we met a friend at the incredible Ted's Butcherblock for one of their delicious $12 dinners and $5 wine tastings.  I seriously think these Friday night dinners are the best deal going in Charleston.  On Friday, we had delicious curried pork in a sort of falafel/meatball combination, served over eggplant, a pita and drizzled with tzaziki, with a bean salad on the side.  Dessert was a huge slab of carrot cake with a creme anglaise, and I could have eaten about ten more servings of it--it was just that good.

On Saturday, we went over to another friend's house so that we could meet her precious, perfect 1-week-old baby boy.  He is still at that limp noodle stage of infancy that terrifies me so much, because they just feel so BREAKABLE, but I managed to hold him without crushing him, and then died at the cuteness of Colby cuddling him as well.  It was admittedly a little bittersweet, but I am just so happy for my friend, and so excited to have a new baby in my life to watch grow over the years.  After baby time, we finally got around to seeing Bridesmaids, and we both got some much needed laughs.

Sunday was a relaxing chill day, just catching up on the DVR.  This week, Colby has been getting off work early, so we've been enjoying our evenings together.  Ever since the cleanse, I've been on quite a healthy eating kick (combined with a little Ben & Jerry's because I had to try Late Night Snack--CHOCOLATE COVERED POTATO CHIPS, people!), so we've been cooking up some tasty meals, I've been keeping up with my workouts, and I've discovered the most delicious way to incorporate fruits and vegetables into my daily routine--Green Monsters!  I just toss some flax seeds, a couple big handfulls of spinach, a banana, and some chocolate soy milk into a blender and liquify.  Then chop in some ice, and voila, chocolate banana smoothie.  It is SO GOOD, and I've been drinking one every day for my afternoon snack.

So, that's been my week, not all ups, but certainly not all downs either.  I'm working very hard to focus on all of the good in my life, and not take it for granted.  Unfortunately, Colby is leaving today for a work trip, but he'll be home in less than two weeks, and then we'll be heading off somewhere for almost three weeks of togetherness away from home.  Life is good.  I could complain, but today, I won't.

The Desert of South Carolina

After living in Seattle for two and a half years, I thought I would be happy if I never saw another raindrop again.  I was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

Do I want the wearying, depressing month after month of constant rainfall and grey skies back?  No.  Do I want just some tiny dent made in our 10" rain deficit?  Oh my STARS, yes.  I am so bloody tired of the sun.

I feel like I'm in that episode of the Twilight Zone where the earth is moving closer to the sun, and everyone is dying of heatstroke and all of my paintings are going to start melting off the canvas.  You know, because I'm just knee deep in paintings over here.  At what point am I going to wake up from this nightmare and realize that we are actually drowning in an endless deluge of monsooning rain?

What is even more frustrating is that our neighborhood seems to be in an entirely separate climate from the rest of the greater Charleston area.  When we went to Myrtle Beach, we drove home in such heavy rainfall that Colby was driving below the speedlimit and we were struggling to see the brake lights of the cars directly in front of us.  We were in that downpour until we were about 10-15 minutes from our house, then we came home and watched on the radar as the massive storm skirted right around us and dumped all over the rest of the city and surrounding towns.

On Tuesday night, I had to come downstairs to sleep on the couch so that my nutcase dogs wouldn't jump out of their skin with all of the thunder and lightning that was crashing overhead, but nary a drop of rain deigned to grace our yard.  When Colby drove to work, he discovered that the rain had started about 3 miles away from us.

Is this some kind of clever punishment for my lack of appreciation for the Emerald City while I lived there?  Am I condemned to a life of exorbitant water bills and plants that slowly wilt, crumble, and die--shrieking silently in their death throes--as I look to the skies and beg for the rain to fall?

WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS ARID MADNESS!!!!

I'm Baaaaaack!

Not that I actually went anywhere, but we were without internet for much of the weekend and blogging on my iPhone is about my least favorite thing in the world.  However, all is well now as our connection is faster than ever and I talked down our monthly bill through the cunning use of whining.  Huzzah!

It ended up being a splendiferous weekend, though it was certainly touch and go there for a couple of days.  While I was so thrilled that Colby was supposed to be home for two weeks between his spate of trips, the Air Force was doing everything in its power to ruin things.  First, they were going to send him on a five day trip over the weekend.  We were bummed about that, but as soon as we'd accepted it, the schedulers realized that they'd made an error on the length of the trip and Colby wouldn't get back from it in time to leave on his next trip.  So yay!  We had our weekend back!  Then we got the call that Colby would have to stay on base starting on Friday through the weekend until Wednesday.  Much anger and frustration was called forth, the schedulers must have realized they needed to find another pilot to abuse before they lost their go-to guy.  And with that, we decided to run off to Myrtle Beach for the day before they changed their minds again.

Myrtle Beach was... interesting.  We entered the town through a street ornamented wih such entertainment options as The Pink Pussycat (formerly The Bunny Ranch), an assortment of adult oriented shops, and various other "Girls! Girls! Girls!" themed storefronts.  So we were a little leary from the get go, then driving down the main drag we got the feeling that everything needed to be hosed down with chlorine and given a fresh coat of paint.  I've heard that the area a bit north from the main street along the beach is nicer, but we were surrounded by a sea of airbrush t-shirt stalls, Ripley's Believe it or Not, and a surprising variety of pancake houses... and the actual sea.  It was a fun day trip, but we were very happy to return to our own less spring break geared beaches.

On Saturday, we spent the morning with our pal, the Comcast guy, working on repairing our internet, then headed over to a friend's house for her 2-year-old's birthday party. It included pizza, a butter yellow cake with chocolate frosting and watching little kids whaling on a pinata, a few of my favorite things.  Sunday we laid low and saved up our energy for 4th of July excitement, and Monday we scooted over to Sullivan's Island for a beach day with some friends.

We ate at Dunleavy's Pub, which had a wide selection of seafood, pub food, and "American fare" like hot dogs, hamburgers, and grilled cheese.  It was definitely a candidate for a return visit in the future.  Once I'd tucked away a chili cheese slaw dog and a couple of hard ciders, we headed down to the beach.  I loved that there was a deep tide pool that we could swim around in and cross to reach a sandbar that led to the open ocean on the other side.  I deluded myself into feeling much safer in the tide pool because only really small sharks could be swimming around in there looking for feet to chew on.  Once we were thoroughly baked, we came back home where we curled up for some Twilight Zone action and watched the amazing fireworks show put on by our neighbors.

It was really the perfect weekend with a very carefully balanced amount of fun and excitement and chilling at home, and I am so, so, so grateful that Colby was able to be home to enjoy it with me.  I hope all of you Yanks had an amazing holiday weekend, and for the rest of you I hope your 4th of July was just as swell as any other Monday!

The Pilgrimage

Yesterday was just what the doctor ordered for my current case of The Sads.  I got up at oh dark thirty, drove over to a friend's house and we loaded up for the three hour drive up to The Holy Land in Charlotte, NC.
If I could change just two things about the Charleston shopping scene, it would be to remedy our lack of an Anthropologie and an Ikea.  But after yesterday, I think I'm going to have to change my Ikea wish to a Nordstrom, because the drive up to Charlotte really wasn't as bad as I was expecting.  Especially since we had one 45 minutes away in Washington and still only went there twice over the course of nearly three years!

Here's a sampling of some of the Swedish lovelies I picked up.  (Please ignore how desperately my carpet is crying out to be vacuumed.)  Evidently I was on quite a black and white kick.  

The lampshade will be suspended from the ceiling behind this chair so I can use it as a reading nook at night when I don't have the natural light from outside.  The large black frame will go in our bedroom, and I'm hoping to pull of something artistic with the flower decals in the bottom left.  I'm using the laptop pad as we speak and it is far superior to the throw pillows I've been using for the past few years.  The tray will serve as a flat top to hold drinks and goodies on the new storage ottoman we're using as a coffee table in our living room, and the alarm clock is for the guestroom which is currently unclocked.  I'm not exactly sure where the sweet little "B" bookend will go, but I couldn't pass it up!

And I'm already planning my next trip up with Colby so that we can load ourselves down with Expedit bookshelves for the office.  They'll be replacing the MDF lovelies we each brought to our marriage, and maybe it'll still be crap MDF furniture, but at least it will be crap MDF furniture that matches.  Baby steps!

Fishy Fishy Fishy

It may not be officially summer just yet, but don't try to tell Charleston that!  And this weekend I was lucky enough to have pretty much the perfect summer days.  I kicked things off on Friday by meeting a friend at the library downtown for their book sale where I was able to score 12 books for $16--I have so much reading ahead of me now!  So, I felt pretty fiscally responsible about my literary haul when I met Colby for a meeting with our financial advisor, and then joy of joys, he got to come home!  (Colby, not the financial advisor--although that could be pretty handy.)

Saturday we had the pleasure of joining some friends of ours out on their boat for a full day at sea--at river?  I don't know, the water was salty.  Where ever we were, we saw TONS of dolphins capering in the water.  At one point, we were front and center for a feeding frenzy as four dolphins went to town chowing down as fish parts, fins, and tails flopped and flew through the air.  It was an amazing experience, and Colby even got to swim with the dolphins as a couple of fins were spotted during his turn wakeboarding.

Sunday we continued the sea creature trend, meeting some other friends and their little ones at the aquarium.  We were incredibly spoiled by the fantastic aquarium in Seattle, but we still had fun watching the turtles, jellies, and fish at the SC Aquarium.  After a delicious lunch at the always popular Fleet Landing, Colby and I headed home and I somehow ended up napping the rest of the day away.  A little too much sun, fun, and adventure for my energy level I suppose!

I had made a joke last week that if Colby was able to stay home for just four days, we'd be breaking a record for the past few months.  Unfortunately, we won't be breaking any records this time as this morning he packed up his bags and shipped out for the next week.  Sigh.  I have a lot of fun activities planned for this week and the weekend, but I'm pretty sad that for yet another week I'll be coming home to an empty house.  I'm really hopeful that when he gets home from this trip, I'll get to keep him at home for the next two weeks until he's off for his next spate of trips.  Two weeks--what on earth are we going to do with each other with that much time together!

Quality Over Quantity

It's not much of a secret that Colby and I don't get to spend a whole heck of a lot of time together.  With his job, he averages about 6 months out of the year away from home, and last year was one of the worst with him being gone over 200 days of the year.  The worst part is that frequently, his trips are unexpected and it's difficult to plan anything--even a backyard barbecue--without specifically taking vacation time to guarantee that he won't be somewhere on the other side of the world.

We've accepted that this is just the way things are going to be for at least the next year and a half, and it's pretty unlikely that things will improve dramatically at our next base, but this past month and a half has been particularly frustrating as he had to live on base for one week, then was in Africa for two weeks, then I went to Disney World for a week, and then he left just days later for a two week trip to Asia.  Since he got back home on Monday, he's had time off and we've been trying to make the most of it while he's home.

Every now and then I start thinking about looking for a job, just to have something to do on a regular basis and funnel more money into my Shoes & Travelling account, but then there are the times like these where I'm lucky enough to be able to spend time with Colby during his strange "weekends".  I think part of my misery in Washington was not only due to the weather, but the fact that between my work schedule and Colby's work schedule, I felt that I never really got to see my husband except for the few hours I could keep my eyes open between dinner and bedtime and the rare weekends we had together.  I love having the flexibility to spend time together whenever the Air Force decides that we can have it.

So far this week we've spent time at the dog park, indulged in delicious meals out at favorite restaurants, headed out to Folly Beach for a perfect day with sun, sand and waves, and this evening we're hoping to take in a Piccolo Spoleto show before the festival passes us by.  It's been a lovely week together, and as of right now, it looks like I'll have him around until the beginning of July when he'll once more be jetting off for a week-long school and then heading to New Mexico to visit a friend for a guys' week.  After that, we'll have just a few more months before he leaves for his next long deployment.

But the best thing I can do is not focus on how little time we have together, but instead think of all the fun things that can be squeezed into a South Carolina summer--the Biltmore is beckoning, we've got a variety of beautiful beaches to choose from, and things are looking up for another trip to Europe in August.  We may not spend a lot of time under the same roof, but what time we do have together we make count as best we can.

An Extroverted Weekend

Based on my weekend, you'd never know what a massive introvert I am--well, except for the fact that I had to spend Sunday in my Fortress of Solitude to recover from all of the socialness.

I began the weekend by meeting up with a friend at a fabulous butcher shop/restaurant downtown, Ted's Butcherblock.  In the first place, I find it absolutely charming that there are still dedicated butchers plying their meaty trade in this day and age.  Ted's offers a vast array of meats, cheeses, gourmet raviolis, and a wide variety of spreads, wines and appetizery delights.  On top of their butchery, they have a sizeable menu of sandwiches, soups, and salads, and every Friday night, they serve a delicious dinner and dessert for $12.  

On Friday, we were treated to a mouth-watering Lemon Garlic pork loin served over an eggplant tapenade and goat cheese couscous, all sprinkled with delicious fresh peas.  For dessert, there was a massive lemon bar--we're talking about 4-5" square--topped with a mango chili granita.  I wasn't sophisticated enough to appreciate the spicy/sweet combination, so I scraped off the granita, but the lemon bar was phenomenal.  They were also having a $5 wine tasting with proceeds supporting charity, so we got to taste four delicious French wines and I found a new favorite: Château de Ségriès Cotes du Rhone.  We wrapped up the evening taking in a stunning performance by the Shen Wei Dance Arts who is in Charleston as a part of the world-famous Spoleto arts festival.

Saturday, I rolled out of bed and headed to a local county park to beat my all-consuming fear of heights into submission at the rock climbing wall.  There was a portable climbing wall that was about 30 feet high and the 50 foot permanent wall with a wide variety of routes at various skill levels.  I started out on the 50 foot wall, and made it a little less than halfway up the first time, before the sweats, nausea and dizziness set in and I had to rappel down.  So, we headed over to the portable wall so I could get a little more comfortable with less height.  I somehow made it to the top of that wall before closing my eyes, dropping downward and landing on the ground in a quivering pile of jelly.  Then it was back over to the 50 foot wall where I made it about 3/4 of the way up before I just couldn't bring myself to go any higher.  We're planning to go back next week to give it another go, and I really want to get to the top of that dang wall.

I wrapped up the day with a first birthday party for an adorable little buddy of mine, and then went to a going-away party for a couple who we first knew in Washington, and is now leaving us for greener pastures in the Northeast.  We've had to say goodbye to so many people over the past couple of months, it's hard to believe that we've already been here for a year and a half, and may only have another year and a half left to go.

Sunday, I settled firmly into my little groove on the couch and became thoroughly obsessed with HBOs Game of Thrones.  I also fit in a run and did a little cleaning because COLBY IS COMING HOME TODAY!!!!  And I always like him to think that I keep the house spotless in his absence so that he is pressured to put his socks in the laundry bin.

It's Like Thunder, Lightning

We haven't gotten much rain over the past couple of months, but last night and early this morning the skies over Charleston set out to make up for the deficit.  Colby is living on base this week, so I spent the evening with him, then drove home around midnight, happy to see that the streets were wet and we'd obviously gotten at least an inch or so of rain.

I got home, fed my starving dogs, then fell asleep within minutes.  Just a few hours later, I was awakened by a lightning strike that lit up my whole bedroom and a loud crack of thunder.  I rolled over in bed, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but two big brown eyes in a terrified face belonging to a certain yellow puppy dog who lives in my house and is NOT allowed upstairs.  With her short hair, the tags on her collar generally give her away when she is nearby, but her fear of thunderstorms seems to give her the ability to slink up a flight of stairs and right up to my sleeping face without making a peep.

I knew I couldn't let her stay upstairs, but I felt awful about sending her back down knowing that she was scared out of her wits, so I hauled myself out of bed, and planted myself downstairs, collecting Jack who was bouncing off the walls with a lightning and thunder induced mania.  We settled ourselves on the floor, Ellie in my lap and Jack laying next to me and intermittently making a barking and bounding circuit of the room.

I've always liked the nice rumbly thunderstorms that the South is so adept at producing, but this storm was a whole other animal.  The house was shaking with each crack of thunder, and my living room felt like a discotheque with the lightning providing the strobe light effect.  But then, without any warning there was a crack of thunder that I swear split the sky in half, and I was immediately thrust back in time, the memory of the cruise ship mishap sweeping over me.  I felt like the room was listing back and forth, and the thunder that continued to rumble sounded exactly like the waves crashing against the side of the ship and up over our porthole.

It probably only lasted for a few seconds, but my heart was pounding, and I just hung onto Ellie and kept whispering "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay".  It was seriously one of the weirdest feelings I have ever had.  I knew I was sitting on the floor in my house in South Carolina, but my brain felt exactly like it was back in the middle of a massive Mediterranean storm.

After about an hour, the worst of the storm passed, and I made sure the dogs were relaxed and in their beds before I headed back upstairs and back to sleep.  This morning the skies are still grey and I'm sure the grass is very happy.  I was able to sleep just fine, but had to have a grim little laugh this morning.  Of course, only I would go on a romantic Mediterranean cruise and come back with a case of post-traumatic stress disorder.  Angela, this is your life.

Angela vs Food

It's always a big adjustment when company leaves, going from the whirlwind of touring and dining out to the feeling of a quiet house.  The house seems to get bigger, and my stomach regularly questions me as to where it's next meal is coming from.  The past few days have been no exception as my mom and aunt left on Tuesday evening and then Colby left for a work trip Thursday morning.  I went from constant plans and activities to a pile of books to be read and the prospect of afternoon naps.

 
I had a great visit with my family as we ate our way through Charleston and Savannah over the course of the week--and everywhere we went was incredible!  For any locals or anyone who may be planning a trip to the area here's the run down of the places we hit during the week:Charleston
Anson Restaurant--A+ (holy grail of macaroni and cheese--oh my God, delicious)

Pavillion Bar--A (On the roof of Grill 225 next to the market, perfect place for taking in the view of Charleston harbor while sipping on drinks and appetizers)

Wild Olive--B+ (Tasty Italian with a twist, very different, but off the beaten path in John's Island)

This Whole House--A+++ (I've been here for lunch and now afternoon tea--both were delicious and incredibly generous portions and reasonable prices.  A combo restaurant/antique shop in Historic Summerville)

Fat Hen--AAAAA+++++ (The best brunch I have EVER had.  I thought their dinner was so so, but their brunch is so good it'll make you slap a nun.  Creme brulee French toast.  I mean really, do I need to say more?)

Red's Ice House--Ambience/Experience A+, Food B+ (My favorite part of Red's is standing on their back porch watching the pelicans swoop in and dolphins playing in Shem Creek.  The food is good and cheap and it's just a fun place to hang out and drink a pina colada!)

Pitt Street Pharmacy--A- (Old Village Mt Pleasant is one of the most charming areas around Charleston.  It's like stepping into a Norman Rockwell painting, and ordering up a sandwich and root beer float at the counter of the Pitt Street Pharmacy completes that feeling of living in a simpler time.  Plus the food is good.  A great lunch stop!)

Savannah
Back in the Day Bakery--A+ (This is going to get boring, because EVERYWHERE we ate in Savannah was an A+!  This bakery had incredibly fresh, delicious sandwiches and some of the most decadent pastries and baked goods I've ever seen.  I was thrilled with my caprese sandwich and a butter yellow cupcake with the best chocolate frosting that has ever entered my mouth.  Yummmm)

The Olde Pink House--A++ (Built in 1771, one of the two oldest buildings still standing in Savannah.  Incredible service, elegant ambience, phenomenal food.  This place is the trifecta of restaurant awesomeness.  Go there!)

LuLu's Chocolate Bar--A+ (It's a chocolate bar.  Named LuLu's.  Could it be any better?  Milky Way martini.  Drink it.  Love it.  Then eat some chocolate.  And cry tears of happiness.)

Can you believe that on top of that we also ate some lunches and dinners at home, and squeezed in a donut run one morning?  How I am not the size of a whale is a complete mystery to me.
Our secondary concern to stuffing our face was doing a little touring, and we had a great time on the Historic Charleston Foundations festival of houses and gardens on South Battery, did a tasting at the Firefly vodka distillery, an architecture walking tour and three home tours in Savannah, shopping on King Street, and a short trip to Folly Beach.

It was a fantastic week with my fantastic family and I'm left with only one question to ponder now that I am home alone, reflecting on our experiences together.

Why doesn't Charleston have a chocolate bar???

Cooper River Bridge: I Got Over It!

What an amazing weekend.

Colby and I woke up early in the morning on Saturday, and made our way to the starting point of the 10K.  It was pretty chilly before the sun came up, probably in the 40s, and we hung onto our jackets until the last possible moment before dropping them off at the sweat shuttle.  We wandered around the corrals for about an hour, taking in the crazy costumes (Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, some dudes in Baywatch bathing suits, a portly Batman and Robin, just to name a small sampling!), ogling the anorexic-looking elite runners, and attempting to keep our muscles warm.

About a quarter to eight, we headed to our respective corrals, and waited for the waves to start rolling toward the starting line.  This was the first year of wave starts for the race, and it went off beautifully.  Each corral started about 3 minutes apart, and as each group started to run, all the others would walk forward.  I'd signed up for Corral K since I knew I would be walking for some of the run, but I ended up in Corral J for the start as we filled in during the 30 minutes of walking forward.  Since I passed a number of walkers during my run from corrals E through J, I now know that I can sign up for a higher corral next year so I won't be stuck with all of the strollers in Corral K.

Each corral got it's own starting music, and my group took off running to the sounds of the William Tell Overture.  Up to the time I started running, I was still cold, but once I was moving, the weather was absolutely perfect.  The adrenaline definitely kicked in, much to my surprise, and I even found myself getting the teensiest bit verklempt as I thought about the goal that I was achieving and how far I had come in just a couple of months.

Mile one flew by in what felt like a matter of seconds, and mile two was equally smooth sailing.  Then we hit the bridge, and the dreaded incline.  I broke for my first couple of minutes of walking about halfway up the bridge, then pushed on, taking in the beautiful views, pausing my iPod to listen to the bands playing along the route, and focusing on maintaining a steady pace.

Before I knew it, I was over the bridge and running down King street in Charleston, smelling the aromas wafting from the amazing restaurants and surrounded by a wall of people cheering us on.  The adrenaline kicked back in, and I was amazed at how many people I was passing as we made our way toward Marion Square.  Then I saw it: Mile 6.  Only 2/10 of a mile left to go!  I pumped up my music took a deep breath and picked up the pace with the finish line in sight.  I stopped my watch as I crossed under the Finish sign, checked my time and nearly fainted from shock.

Historical Reenactment:

1 hour and 13 minutes.

Two minutes faster than my goal time, which I'd set as a sort of impossible dream, just to keep myself motivated.  An eleven minute and 45 second mile--certainly not setting any land speed records, but for me?  To average anything under a 12 minute mile for more than six miles and a 4% incline over one of those miles?  Incredible.

I am so glad that I pushed my fears and insecurities aside, and signed up for this race.  It was hard work, but it was one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life.  I am officially hooked on the 10K, though I can say with a fair amount of certainty that I won't be training for a half marathon any time soon!  I wasn't the fastest person there, or the strongest, or the best, but I was there.  And I finished what I started.  And it was an amazing feeling.

The Night Before

My right ankle is killing me and I feel like I'm gonna throw up.  That can only mean one thing.

Tomorrow morning I'll be running the bridge!

I've got my clothes laid out.

 A rocking new playlist courtesy of your awesome suggestions and an iTunes giftcard.

And it looks like the weather is going to play nice.

Now, all I have to do is wake up on time, run 10 kilometers and if I'm really lucky, keep my breakfast down!  Our prerace dinner was salmon, brown rice and potato salad.  I'm carb-loaded to the gills, and capping off the night with a piece of chocolate cake and yet ANOTHER glass of water.  Just in case this is my last meal...  

Thank you all so much for all of your encouragement.  Assuming I am both still alive and not in traction, I'll be back next week with the results.  Have a super duper weekend!

It's the Final Countdown

After weeks of absolutely perfect, gorgeous weather in Charleston, the cold and rain has returned just in time for the week of my 10K.  As of right now, the forecast is for chilly weather and rainstorms all week, clearing up to sunny with a high of 72 on Saturday.  I am hoping and praying that the weatherman is right for once, because the only thing that sounds more miserable than running a 10K is running a 10K in the rain.

Anyway, I'm beginning my final training week, tapering down my runs and not pushing my body quite so hard in preparation for the big day.  I'm heading to the grocery store to pick up more healthy proteins like fish and Greek yogurt, veggies for salads, and am focusing on not filling my body with empty carbohydrates.  I know I need to continue eating carbs, but Flavor Blast Goldfish--though delicious--are probably not the best fuel for my body.

My question to any runners out there is what do you recommend that I eat for breakfast on the day of the race?  I'll probably wake up to eat around five, and the run starts at 8.  My plan for this week is eggs or Raisin Bran cereal with a banana, but I don't want to eat that much that early and want to limit my fiber intake before running.  I was thinking maybe a cup of Greek yogurt when I wake up and then a banana around 7:30?

I also want to overhaul my iPod playlist the day before the race so that I've got new tunes blasting the day of the big run.  I'm getting sick of some of the songs on my current list, and want to mix it up a little bit.  Here's my current running playlist:
Some of the tunes on the chopping block: Teach Me How to Dougie and Love Lockdown.  And as you can see, I like pretty much everything from poppy pop like Glee to Britney to rap and country.  

What's your go to song that gets your blood pumping and makes the time fly by?

19685.0394 Feet

(ETA: I'm such a nerd, but I just can't let this stand--I accidentally converted 6 kilometers into feet for my post title instead of 10.  It should read 32808.399 feet.  Sigh.)

Last year, when I was working out my 30 Before 30 list, one of the items that I included was running a 10K.  The goal of my list was to push myself outside of my comfort zone, and since the longest I'd ever run was four miles, signing up for a 10K seemed like a reasonable enough challenge.

So, a couple of months ago, I decided to take the plunge and sign up for the Cooper River Bridge Run.  It's a pretty big deal in the local area, with the city shutting down the main bridge into Charleston and 30,000 to 40,000 of your closest friends tying on their running shoes and dashing down the highway into the city.  The biggest challenge of the run is that not only are you running a smidge over six miles, but one of those miles is at a 4% incline.  So, that's fun.

Of course, when I first decided that this was my year for the 10K, it had been about 7 or 8 months since the last time my running shoes and I had spent any quality time together.  My first run out, I was gasping and aching, and metaphorically kicking my overly enthusiastic 30B30 creating self in the butt after approximately 3 minutes.  I was not literally kicking myself in the butt, because I lacked the energy and will to raise my foot that high.

Now that I've got about eight weeks of "training" behind me, I'm feeling a little better about my chances of not dying halfway across the bridge, but still not quite where I wanted to be at this point.  I've run six miles twice in the past couple of weeks, and Colby and I went to run the bridge on the past two weekends, so I'm not feeling entirely unprepared, just undertrained.  I've gotten to the point where I can run for about 30 minutes straight, then alternate walking 2-3 minutes and running 10.  Past the one hour mark, I walk 2 and run 5.  And yes, it definitely takes me over an hour to run six miles.

Today, I am venturing out for a seven mile run.  It's my last long run before the race--next week I'll do a five mile run early in the week, then on Saturday, I'm off to the races.  Even though I've survived six miles twice, seven is just really psyching me out big time.  I've been putting this run off since last week, and am not thrilled about the fact that now I'll have to do it in 80 degree weather.  Yay!

So, please, take a minute and think of me today as I wend my way through the wilds of our neighborhood on burning, shaking legs.  My parched tongue and weakened limbs will be grateful for your well-wishes, and if I do not return from my hero's journey, please take heart in the knowledge that I always loved you best.

Culinary Adventures

This weekend comprised some of the best eating I've done all year.  It's been nearly 16 hours since I ate my last bite of food, and I am still full.

Saturday, we became the proud new owner of an adorable baby palmetto.  Some of our friends are clearing a few trees out of their backyard to open up their beautiful view to the marsh, so we were fortunate enough to inherit one of the homeless trees.  The tree had its fronds hurricane cut to help it survive the move, and now we're just watering it and hoping that the transplant sticks.  Our baby tree is on the left, and on the right are some trees from our front yard that hopefully it will eventually grow up to look like.

After spending some quality time with our baby tree, I went for a four mile run, got all gussied up and then we headed over to a friend's house for smoked port tacos and a delicious array of desserts!  My pal is fortunate enough to have a super sweet sister-in-law living with them for a few months while she creates her portfolio for her DESSERT CHEF school.  Oh, yeah.  She made us a "tasting menu" of desserts including a lemon and blueberry parfait, ice cream made of an incredible chocolate cake with coconut cream frosting and fondant, and finally a bacon ice cream.  And you know what?  I want more bacon ice cream!  We felt a little bit like we were the judging panel on Iron Chef, America!

Sunday, we had tickets for the Culinary Village at the Charleston Wine + Food Festival in Marion Square (Named as one of the top 5 wine and food festivals in the country by Forbes Traveler--way to go Charleston!).  The weather forecast was bleak, with thunderstorms expected and there was a torrential downpour around 9 in the morning.  However, when we started driving to the festival, the sun was trying to break through the clouds, and by the time we arrived, the sun had made its triumphant appearance and the skies were perfectly blue all afternoon.  We tried samplings of meals, desserts, sauces, and various wines from local restaurants, mail order bakeries, wineries from near and far, and all in all had a delicious afternoon.  My favorite wine of the day was Simi Cabernet, and when I went to write it in my wine notebook when I got home, I found that I had actually already named it as a favorite wine.  At least, I know I am consistent!

We got home around 5 in the evening, and Colby spent the rest of the night working on a Masters project while I worked my way through some magazines and watched the season premiere of Army Wives.  The weekend was incredible, but the fun won't stop there since tonight we're heading back downtown to see the Russian National Ballet perform Romeo and Juliet, and tomorrow is MARDI GRAS!!!  Laissez le bon temp roulez!!

Food, Fun and Flooring

Oh what a lovely weekend!  It's fitting that Monday dawned with a healthy dose of fog in the air to lend a grey cast to my feelings of mourning now that Colby is back to his long days at work and I... have a house to clean.

We kicked off the weekend with a Friday out on the town in downtown Charleston.  It has been over a year since the last time I went out to a bar--well, excluding my visits to NYC to visit my sister, because vacations don't count--just to "go out".  And before that, well, it had probably been another year.  We've just definitely left that part of our lives behind us, and we're both pretty okay with that.  But one of our college pals was in town for the week with his squadron, and by gosh and by golly, we were puttin' on our fancy shoes and venturing out into the night.  We started out with a delicious seafood dinner at Hank's Seafood, then headed over to the upstairs deck bar at Henry's on Market Street.

Initially, we felt young and spry with our energetic, going out selves, but as the night wore on, we felt as though we aged with each passing minute.  Evidently, the Charleston bar scene is a little... um... fancier (sluttier?) than the Baton Rouge college town bar scene I cut my teeth on.  The girls were all wearing barely there minis--cut up to here and down to there.  Their hair was teased.  They turned up their shrill giggles to 11, and they skulked among the fighter pilots with talons extended and breasts bared as much as public decency laws will allow.  By the time midnight rolled around, Colby and I were sending emergency eye signals to one another, silently plotting our escape.

Saturday greeted us with a beautiful blue sky and perfect spring temperatures (please, no one tell Charleston that it's still only February), and I managed to drag myself out of bed at a decent hour so that I could meet a friend at an adorable little restaurant/antique shop in historic Summerville, This Whole House.  It was a delicious lunch with great company, and I was glad to squeeze in as much time as possible with her since she'll be leaving me soon for greener Air Force pastures.

When I returned home, our taxes had magically been done, inserting a tidy sum of money back into our pocketbooks.  One of the very few benefits of Colby's job is that tax time is always a very happy one for our little family.  Sunday, we stayed pretty low key, just making a trip out to Lowe's because we cannot go a full month without giving them our money.  We also watched the Oscars and I was very happy about all of the Best Actor/Actress/Movie winners, and lusted very openly over Anne Hathaway's stage looks--more specifically the blue Armani Prive and the red Atelier Versace.  God.  Gorgeous.  

However, the best part of Sunday was when the man of the house entered into a verbal agreement that we need to replace the hideous, crud infested carpet downstairs.  I am pretty sure that was legally binding.  HUZZAH!!!!!  Small victories, people.  Small victories.

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

Well, how was your Super Bowl XLV?  Mine was pretty great, mostly because it involved friends, excessive amounts of yummy food, soothing a precious baby to sleep, and playing with my favorite two-year-old.  Just don't ask me anything about the game.  I hear it sucked.  I did watch the half-time show, so I know that sucked.  I was rooting for the Tigers, personally, but evidently they didn't play.  Whole different conference or something.  Who knows.

I avoided writing a post last week, because oh, whiny I was!  If you are unlucky enough to follow me on Twitter, you were exposed to untold amounts of pessimism and negativity.  There were some frustrations that I was dealing with, but over all, upon review, it was a pretty great week.

Colby got home from his first work trip since the deployment ended in early November.  It was a tough adjustment after having him home for a record 2 1/2 months (we're fairly confident that's the longest stretch of time we've spent together since I moved to Washington in March of 2007) and then his return home was delayed by 4 days, but he made it back in one piece, and that's the important part.

I also got in touch with my inner Betty Homemaker, and learned the basics of how to operate my shiny new sewing machine.  I shocked myself by successfully sewing a rather lovely kitchen apron after my second lesson.  I wouldn't recommend inspecting the hemming too closely, but from a distance, it looks pretty darn good if I do say so myself!  (And I don't, because Colby was impressed too.)  I have more classes this week, and I must admit, I'm hooked,  It's not even close to the excrutiating experience of the yarn cross-stitch cat that I worked on from about 4 to 13 and never finished.

I rounded out the week with my first observation at my new volunteer job downtown.  I love, love, love me some history--so much so that I accidentally minored in it in college after taking so many history classes as electives--and I've always thought that being a tour guide would be pretty much the best job in the world.  So, when a friend handed me a clipping from the newspaper advertising a volunteer orientation at one of the beautiful antebellum museum homes on the Battery, I knew it was a match made in heaven.  I still have a few more observations to do, and a qualifying tour, then I'll be Charleston's newest tour guide!

This week, I am determined to be more positive and appreciative of the great things I've got going on in my life and stop focusing so much on the teensy little pits in the road.  And now I'm headed to youtube to look for the best commercials from last night so I can pretend I'm completely up to speed on current pop culture moments.