Tomorrow Is Another Day...

So Glad You Were Born!

October is a big month for my mom.  Not only is today her birthday, but this is also the month that we celebrate her victory over breast cancer six years ago.

Over the past couple of years, I feel like my relationship with my mom has gotten much richer and deeper.  It's not that we ever didn't get along (well, aside from a few moments when I was between the ages of twelve to eighteen), but I think the older I get, the more I relate to her as a person and a friend and not just as a daughter.  We've been so fortunate that we've been able to spend time together on multiple vacations over the past year, and we've had so much fun exploring the world.  From our time in Europe last winter to her visit to Charleston this spring to our family vacation in Disney World in the summer, I've treasured every minute that we can spend in the same place.

It is a terrible feeling to have a parent seem to be slipping away, whether emotionally or physically.  When mama was sick, there were absolutely times where I thought we were going to lose her--and I think my sister and I were actually sheltered from the worst of it.  Even once the cancer was gone, she was still so weak and had to recover from neurological and physical damage that left her an echo of her former self for quite some time.  That year of cancer diagnosis, treatment, and their repercussions changed us all.  

Breast cancer has gained a reputation of being something of a cupcake cancer.  It is fantastic that so many women catch it early--as was the case with my mom--and that it is very treatable, so subsequently, the survival rate is much higher than many other cancers.  But the heartbreaking fact is that many women, and men, do not survive and their diagnosis is a death sentence.  I always remember that, and never, ever take for granted the fact that we still have our Annie with us.

Each day I see things in myself that remind me of her.  I say things that, in turn, make me smile because it was such a "Mom" thing to say.  She taught me to laugh at myself and find the humor in any situation.  She taught me the importance of being thoughtful and considerate.  She taught me to always, always be exactly who I am instead of who other people want me to be.  She taught me to finish my dinner before I eat dessert--but to always eat dessert!  Those little pieces of her will always be with me.

I look forward to spending many more years with her in my life, and hope to someday soon learn from her in a new way as I embark on my own journey of motherhood.  I got incredibly lucky in this life when they were doling out parents.  I can say with certainty that without the guidance, wisdom, support and love of my mom and dad, I wouldn't be who I am today. 

Happy Birthday, Momsie!  I hope you have some sort of pink beverage in celebration!  I love you!

(PS Ladies, please don't forget to squish your boobies once a month--it only takes a minute to potentially save your life.  Worth it!)

Six

No guest post today, I'm traveling into the future once again to celebrate my sixth blogoversary with you!

Six years ago today was just like any other day.  I went to work, spent way too much time putzing around on the internet instead of proofreading performance reports, came home, ate dinner, and turned on the television.  Maybe there was nothing on, maybe I got bored with whatever I was watching, but for some reason, that was the night.  I opened my laptop, pulled up Typepad.com, created a username and password, and in minutes a blog was born.

A lot of things have changed since that night.  Colby and I broke up, I dated other people, we got back together, we got married, we started trying to have a baby.  I was a lieutenant in the Air Force, I separated from active duty, found a job working as the office manager for a marketing firm, moved on to working as a child care assistant, was promoted to child care site leader, went back to school, got my Masters in elementary education, realized that was a really dumb move, still really enjoyed my classes.  I had recently moved from Louisiana to Arkansas, then I moved to Washington, now we're in South Carolina.  I had two gerbils, then a dog, then another dog, then the gerbils died--the dogs are still alive.  Blogging wasn't cool, I told only a few people that I'd started a "personal website", most people gave me the side eye, my parents thought it was pretty cool, then people started to know what I meant when I said I had a blog, I got fewer side-eyes, now everyone has a blog and celebrities show up at BlogHer.

I've changed, the internet has changed, the world has changed, and it's all been documented here for posterity.  The one thing that hasn't changed is how strongly I feel about the name that I chose for this site.  It was something of a whim--I've loved Gone with the Wind since I was 12-years-old, and "Tomorrow is another day" has always been the quote that meant the most to me from the book and movie.  Then I heard the quote that is in my header, and the phrase held even more meaning to me.

I've had a lot of good times over the past six years, and a lot of bad times as well.  The one thing that has gotten me through those more difficult times is knowing that someday I would get through it, that I would come out on the other side a stronger, more experienced, better person.  That tomorrow really is another day, and so far nothing has ever happened to take those tomorrows away from me.  Today might be shitty, but the hope that tomorrow will be better--or at the very least just tomorrow--has always encouraged me.

I often wonder how long I'll keep this website alive.  It's hard to imagine my life without it, though there have certainly been times when I've considered throwing in the towel.  I don't know if I'll be blogging forever, but I do know that I'll always have all of these years worth of todays and yesterdays transcribed and immortalized for all of my tomorrows.  And I cannot wait to see what my tomorrows bring me.

Things That I've Learned

Dry clean or hand wash only is just a fancy way of saying toss it in the washing machine and hope for the best.  70.2% of the time, everything works out just fine.  The other 29.8%... well, you probably didn't like that shirt that much anyway.

The hardest part of any workout program is not starting it.  The hardest part is working out.

The most effective way to seem cool and self-confident as an adult is to talk about what an awkward dork you were in high school.  That is supremely annoying to those of us who truly were awkward dorks in high school.  No one thought it was cool then.

Dieticians and fitness magazines will tell you that many times your feeling of hunger can be satiated by drinking a large glass of water.  Your dehydration just tricks you into feeling hungry.  That's probably true, but I find the water to be most effective when washing down a slice of pizza.  Or when it is wine.

Running is not something I will ever enjoy for itself.  But the excuse to watch reruns of Millionaire Matchmaker and Real Housewives of Somesuchcity while I'm on the treadmill makes it almost endurable.  It's my penance for watching such crap television on a regular basis.

Dusting is the most pointless, sisyphean curse foisted upon humanity.  There is nothing so infuriating as spraying the Pledge, wiping the surface, and then watching as those fecking dust particles drift right back down to the exact location you just cleaned.

Like Comparing Apple and Pizzas

(Thanks so much to all of you that offered to guest post!  I'm so excited about the amazing bloggers I'll be sharing with you while I'm on vacation.  There's still room for a few more if anyone didn't get a chance to throw their name in the hat last week.  You're welcome to write about anything your little heart desires, and I just ask that you send me your post by August 10--let me know in the comments if you want to volunteer!)

Is it kind of sad that Colby has been gone so much over the past few months, that I've almost gotten used to him being away?  I feel like I entered deployment mode a long time ago, and the deployment doesn't even begin until October.  Ugh.  Anyway, I spent another weekend without my dearest darling, but it still managed to be an awesomesauce few days.

Friday, I went over to a friend's house for a lovely wine and pizza date, and it was so nice to sit and talk for a few hours.  We had talked about going out to eat somewhere, but I really think we both needed a night in to just hang out, chatting without worrying about whether a restaurant needed to turn a table.  Saturday, I fit in a good run--I finally broke below the 11 minute barrier and ran my 3 miles in about 10:45 per mile.  It's frustrating, because my legs feel like they could go all day, but my stupid lungs just struggle so much to keep up my oxygen supply.  But I'm getting better!  And I rewarded myself for all of the healthy eating and exercise I've been up to lately with a second day in a row of pizza with a friend.  You can never have enough pizza, right?  I also had a scrapbooking date last night to work on my (SO CLOSE TO BEING FINISHED) Ireland scrapbook that has been ten years in the making and watch The Bachelorette: Men Tell All episode.

Sunday, things went a little downhill when I realized that the optical drive in my creaky old Macbook had died.  I don't use cds or dvds in my computer very often, so I don't really now how long it's been broken--I do remember trying to play a music cd in there at the beginning of the year and it didn't work, but I thought it was because it was a burned cd and my old gal was just being finicky.  But a friend let me borrow their copy of the French Rosetta Stone to prepare for my upcoming trip, and after spending about 15 minutes inserting the cd, listening to it whir and click, then ejecting... over and over and over... because I thought maybe if I were just persisistent enough... I admitted defeat.

I think my inverter cable has also been going.  For the past year and a half or so, I've had an issue where the screen has to be in juuuuust the right position for the screen to light up.  Otherwise, it's black and I can just see the faint image of what is on the screen through the black.  I haven't felt like that's a big enough deal to justify getting a new computer since it works perfectly otherwise, but now with the optical drive going, I feel like we're getting closer to having to drop a wad of cash on a new one.  It is almost a four year old computer, so I'm lucky that she's been going as strong as she has for so long now.  For the time being, I ordered an external cd/dvd drive, and hopefully that will do the trick for the few times that I need to use a cd.

But being that I'm also anxiously, and not at all patiently, awaiting the release of the iPhone 5 so that I can upgrade my dinosaur first gen iPhone, I think Apple is going to really love me over the next few months.

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 Gory Details

Day 3... it was pretty tough to get out of bed this morning.  But it's hard to tell if that's related to the cleanse or not, because it's pretty tough to get out of bed EVERY morning.  But at least on a normal day I have a creamy cup of English breakfast tea and carbs luring me downstairs.  Apple juice just does not equate.

So, the cleanse deets.  I wish I could tell you the name of it, but I do not know.  I got the instructions from a friend who did it with her neighbor after she completed it and luuuuurved it.  Then another friend tried it and haaaaaated it.  So, I went into this with pretty realistic expectations about the potential benefits and the drawbacks.  Sometimes it feels much harder than I expected, sometimes it's easy.  It truly depends on the moment.

Here is the basic breakdown of what I'm taking in every day:

Breakfast:
1 1/4 C apple juice
1 glass room temperature water with lemon
1 cup of herbal, caffeine free tea
Suck on some slices of lemon
1 tsp honey 

Lunch:
Vegetable broth (2 lb bag of carrots, large onion, bag of celery, garlic, seasonings (I used a poultry blend of herbs), 8 cups of water.  Bring to a boil, simmer for a few hours until vegetables are softs, drain and smoosh liquid out of the veggies.)

Dinner:
1 1/4 C apple juice
1 cup of tea
1 tsp honey
Vegetable broth

Throughout the day:
Drink at least 12 cups of water or tea (combination), when I feel like I'm about to chew my arm off or feel super run down, I have another small spoonful of honey.

Every other day, you have to drink an epsom salt concoction to help flush all of the waste out of your body since you aren't taking in any fiber.  Holy shit.  That stuff is nasty.  It's not the least bit salty and tastes a bit like what I imagine a nice glass of gasoline would taste like.  BLEEEEEEEECH.

As you may remember from my 30B30 list, I was originally thinking about the Blueprint Cleanse.  It appealed to lazy me because everything is provided for you, it is dummyproof as all you have to do is drink the numbered bottles in the order indicated, and there are a variety of flavors to all of the juices.  The major drawback is that the three day cleanse would run me $255 including delivery.  In my opinion, that is an awful lot of money for three days of not eating.  

Furthermore, you don't know where the ingredients come from and they aren't labeled organic.  To me, if the point of doing a cleanse is to clean out your body, I want to know that my ingredients are as clean and high quality as possible.  I doubt that BPC doesn't use high quality ingredients, but preparing and selecting your own ingredients you know exactly what you are putting in your body.

I bought all of my ingredients at Whole Foods, all of my vegetables and lemons are organic, I got the Whole Foods brand Honeycrisp organic apple juice, my honey is locally produced in a field that is uncultivated and uses no fertilizers or pesticides (and is DELICIOUS), the only thing that isn't certified organic is my tea.  Because all of the organic herbal teas sounded disgusting, heh.  I forgot to keep the receipt to tally up the total cost, but looking at my online bank account, the receipt came to $90 and probably about $20 of that was groceries outside of the cleanse ingredients.  I'd probably need to restock on vegetables, and maybe another jar of apple juice, so maybe add on another $10.  So about $80 for a 6-7 day cleanse--quite a savings over BPC.

And how am I feeling?  Well, as I've been moaning to my Twitter followers, I am not loving this experience.  I'm still waiting for the spiritual, zen, reflective part to set in--mostly I just feel like going to sleep.  Maybe that is when I'm supposed to be meditating or something?  However, I have yet to feel faint or dizzy, and other than the first day, no headaches.

I worked out again yesterday--I managed to do 30 minutes of a Jackie Warner DVD and I felt fine after--definitely a bit more tired and I wasn't always able to do the full minute of each move.  Tonight I'm going to a self-defense class, so I think I'll bring some honey to have a spoonful before and after.

Bottom line, unless I have some amazing breakthrough today, I think Wednesday will be the last day of the cleanse.  That will have been four full days, which I feel is perfectly adequate for cleaning out my system.  Beyond that, I worry about muscle breakdown and truly entering starvation mode.  To ease back into the eating world, I'll subsist on salads on Thursday, then Greek yogurt and soup on Friday.  By Saturday, hopefully I'll be back to normal, which will be perfect since Colby will be getting home from a conference then.

I do feel that this has changed how I look at eating--when you feel like you're absolutely "starving" you really aren't, I promise.  But I'll talk more about that when I'm able to reflect back on this from the other side, back amongst the land of the eaters.  For now, I'm going to go drink my apple juice and pretend it's a perfectly adequate breakfast.  Yum!

Reaffirming My Neuroses

It's kind of a running joke between Colby and me--how he's a daring, adventury type and I'm the scared little mouse, keeping back from cliff edges, paralyzed by fear at great heights, terrified of pretty much anything and everything.

I've tried to explain to him that the rest of the human population seems to have a "yeah, but it won't happen to me" mindset, whereas my take on things is more along the lines of "terrible things have to happen to someone, why wouldn't it be me?"  So while most people seem to live life with a sanity preserving expectation of near immortality, I'm pretty much expecting death and destruction at every turn.

And my cautious nature has kept me pretty safe throughout most of my life.  My most extreme injuries have been a broken foot, a sprained wrist, and a twisted ankle.  I credit a healthy dose of fear with getting me to the ripe old age of 28, and I'm hoping that prescription lasts well into my old age.  

Every now and then I think how wonderful it would be to be more of a daredevil--to push through the fear and do the things that scare me so much.  Go bungee jumping, climb all the way to the top of a rock wall, ski fearlessly down the black diamond course.  To not have my heart in my throat every time Colby wants to peer over the edge of a mountain or disappear into the wilderness for days of hiking.  I can't imagine what a mess I'm going to be when I have kids.  I don't even like it when my dogs are off leash at the dog park--what if a dog attacks them, or they drown in the lake, or a snake bites them, or, or, or...

But then I hear about a jumper whose parachute didn't open, an experienced bicyclist wearing all of his protective gear who is hit by a utility van and ejected over the edge of a 30 foot high bridge, a baseball fan reaching for a foul ball and plumetting 20 feet to his death.  None of those people woke up in the morning thinking that it would be their last, they just thought how amazing it would be to feel the wind in their face, their muscles working, to see their favorite team play a good game.

And then I'm right back where I started, Colby teasing me about my wariness (I prefer to think of it as wisdom or mindfulness... or self-preservation), and me thinking "Bad things happen to people, and I'm a people.  Coincidence?  I think not."

The Results Show

Hm.

What to talk about?

It's so awkward to return to blogging after ages away from the blank Typepad Compose page.

...

I guess I could talk about how Colby is gone yet again on another trip.

Or about how my dog, Jack, has a stomach bug that has resulted in a shocking amount of vomit and crap all over my house.

Or that it was over NINETY DEGREES in Charleston yesterday.  And I went for a run.  And it was terrible.

Or how we finally got around to watching Toy Story 3 last night, and it was JUST as amazing as everyone said it was.  And I cried JUST as much as everyone assured me I would.  Buckets.  Buckets of tears.

Or how I had an absolutely splendiferous time in Disney World with my sister and my parents, and all I can think about is going back in 2013 when they open up the Beast's castle, the Little Mermaid ride, and the Dumbo circus tents in a major Fantasyland expansion.

Or about how awesome ebooks are until you forget to charge them.  And then I hate them.  Batteries.  The sole reason robots will never take over the world.

Or maybe I can just fill in some plot holes on the blog, and talk about that other stuff some other time.

Remember when we had a deep, meaningful discussion about whether I should keep my hair brown, or go blonde again?  Well, the internet pretty overwhelmingly agreed that I should keep the brown hair.  And so, I went blonde.  I know!!  Why do I even ask your opinion if I'm not even going to LISTEN!?  Such a brat.  But, I couldn't help it, my inner Barbie refused to be repressed any longer.  And now I know that when next I feel the strong desire to just buy a box of $8 hair dye and be done with it, the brown hair is clearly a winner in your books.

As for the great dress debate, I was able to have my cake and eat it too.  Lynn found a size 2 of the Tuillieres dress at her local Anthro, and kindly purchased it and sent it my way.  It still will require some alterations, but it's waiting patiently in my closet for when that day arrives.  As for the Disney dress, I decided to go with the Verdant Slip Dress, also from Anthro, and could not have been happier.  It's even more beautiful in person, and looked smashing with my glittery platform pumps that I gleefully dropped thirty bucks on at Target the day before I left for Florida.

Pictures, or it didn't happen.
We're such a well coordinated set.  Much more Disney to come next week.  Much, much more to come.

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.

Shingles: Not Just For Roofing

Something about this time of year, brings out the crazy afflictions to torment my body with glee.  Last year it was the scabies/bed bug/poisonous hydrangea assault, this year it's an even more exciting failure on the part of my immune system.

A little over a week ago, I developed an insanely itchy spot on my back, right around the area where my sports bra sits.  My first thought was, oh no, not the hydrangeas again...  But there was no visible rash, so that didn't seem right.  The next suspect was my new deep conditioner which contains macadamia nut oil.  When I was a child I had a horrible hivey reaction to macadamia nuts and couldn't eat them for years.  But then I thought I'd grown out of it, and have eaten numerous macadamia nuts since then--most of them covered in copious amounts of chocolate.

Even though it seemed like a stretch, I cut the conditioner out of my life for a couple of days.  And then the rash appeared.  Next thought--could it be my laundry detergent?  But that's stupid--I haven't changed my detergent in months, and this is just another in a long line of "free and clear" detergents that I have to buy because of my sensitive princess skin.

So, by Saturday night, when a second rash had broken out just above the original rash, I was stumped.  It was then that I turned to Dr. Google.  I typed in my symptoms, raised red bumps, itchy, slightly painful to the touch.  There were a number of potential causes, but the one that stuck out to me most and turned up the most returns?  Shingles.

The first person I remember having shingles, was my grandmother.  I remember my parents saying that it was kind of like chickenpox, and it generally crops up mainly in older people.  Then, when my mom was going through chemo and radiation for breast cancer, her immune system was depressed, and she got a very severe case that actually included her eye, which still has some slight nerve damage five years later.  I've also had a couple of younger friends get shingles, for causes unknown to them, racking it up to "maybe stress?".

So, I posted a message on facebook: "I just Google diagnosed myself with shingles. Quick, someone tell me I'm insane and that's totally not it!"  Initially people tended to follow my instructions and told me it was probably nothing.  Then, when I posted my symptoms, the tide turned and by later that night and Sunday morning most people were telling me "hie thee to the doctor before this gets exponentially worse!"

Initially, I resisted since the base clinic was closed and the last thing I wanted was to spend all day in the emergency room. But by then the pain had become more intense, and painful swollen lymph nodes had risen just behind my armpit on my back.  Fortunately, a friend told me that there was a nurse referral line I could call, and after I spent a few minutes talking to the nurse, she agreed it was probably shingles and got me a referral to a walk-in clinic just down the road.

About an hour later, I had my diagnosis confirmed, and was at the pharmacy, waiting to pick up my antiviral and the pill for the nerve pain.  I've been taking the medicine for a couple of days now, and the rash has gotten a bit worse and definitely more painful since Sunday, but I'm hoping I've reached the turning point and it will start getting better now.  I'm pretty sure I have a fairly low-grade case, but saying that, I can't imagine a severe case.

Because the rash is on my back, it's uncomfortable to sit back against chairs--even fluffy pillows--or lie on my back.  And even when I'm not putting pressure on it, the feeling alternates between intense itchiness and stabbing pain--like someone is standing behind me, pricking me with multiple needles at once, over and over again.  And wearing a bra is tantamount to strapping myself into the Iron Maiden.  I'm also utterly exhausted--I think a combination of the virus and the pain medicine.  Afternoon naps are a necessity, and I'm still able to sleep like a baby through the night (as long as I don't roll over onto my back).

So, anyway, that's been my excitement for the week.  That and talking to Colby and knowing that he's a-okay and will be home soon.  Now I'm going to make my diseased body a cup of tea, enjoy some quality time with Regis and Kelly, and likely fall asleep about 30 minutes after I take my drugs.  I'll also be checking the mail for my doctoral degree in Internet Diagnosing.  I'm becoming a real pro at that.

Osama: This Military Wife's Perspective

You can't go to a news site, a social media site, turn on the television or look at a newspaper without seeing the words:

Osama Bin Laden is dead.

Last night, Twitter exploded with the news long before President Obama came onto our televisions to share his eloquent words with us about the closing of this chapter.  Facebook followed not long after Twitter.  It was an eye-opening experience, one that laid political prejudices bare, ripped scabs off of old wounds.  A combination of frenetic joy and rejoicing, and a sickening sense of fear and foreboding for what still lies ahead.

*****

A discussion of Bin Laden's death can't be held without a discussion of 9/11.  I was a sophomore in college.  I had slept through my first class and raced to my Biology lecture so that I wouldn't be late for my nine-thirty class.  I ran into a friend outside the door, her face white, eyes large.  "There's been an attack, I don't know what's going on, military bases have gone to THREATCON Delta."  She was prior enlisted and we were both enrolled in Air Force ROTC together.  We went to class and sat through the lecture on pins and needles.

As soon as class was over, I raced to the student Union, the words buzzing around me the whole way.  I didn't go back to my room, even though it was closer.  Somehow, I knew that at that moment, I couldn't be alone.  This was before I had a cell phone.  Email was something I checked maybe once a day.  I felt scared and alone--I needed to surround myself with people, even if they were strangers.  Once in the Union, I made my way to the theater, where they had the screen set to CNN.  As I walked in, they were reshowing it.  A plane, hurtling into the side of the building.  A tower folding in on itself.  Papers flying out of windows... no, people.  After that, all I remember is sinking into the nearest chair, sobbing in the darkness, surrounded by the sound of grief and fear.

*****

Ten years later, the mastermind behind these attacks is dead.  It is strange that I do not find myself jumping up and down with joy.  I have a sense of relief that this small chapter has closed.  This mass murderer met his end, and he will no longer be able to shape minds and lead men.  But there are others.  There are so many others.  It is frightening to think about how many other extremists are still out there, and what their potential reactions to this news will be.

Our troops are still there.  This news does not mean that today they are packing their bags and booking their plane ride home.  I am so proud of what we have managed to accomplish as a nation and as someone who is still connected to the military by numerous threads.  But I cannot help but wonder what this means for our men and women who serve.  I question what our way forward is.  I worry about retaliation.  I worry about what this means for relations with Pakistan.  I fear that rather than shortening our time in this war, it has only tangled us up in it further.

And as proud as I am of our country, I was disgusted by many of the things I saw come across my computer screen last night.  I try to remind myself how emotional last night was for many people.  That with the advent of social media, many people publish words without much forethought or introspection into what they are saying.  What their words mean.  

Ten years ago, news like this brought us together, united us as a nation as we waited to hear what our President would say.  Last night, I felt that the fractures in our country only became more apparent as people made "jokes" about "Osama/Obama all the same!" referred to our "deadbeat President" who was "taking all the credit for Osama's death".  Excitement about the war being over, now that Osama is dead, it has all been worth it.

I wish I could feel that way.  Thousands of people died on 9/11.  Since then over 1,000 US troops have died in Afghanistan, close to 9,000 Afghan civilians, another 1,000 in coalition troops, journalists and contractors.  More than 4,000 US troops killed in Iraq, 864,000 Iraqi civilians, and close to 1,500 coalition troops, journalists and contractors.  At the most conservative counts, not including Iraqi and Afghan soldiers, close to a million people have lost their lives in this endless war. [Numbers as of August 2010, source]

Now Osama Bin Laden is dead.  To me, his death cannot make such a staggering number of deaths worth it.  I feel that had he lived or died, these people gave their lives in service and the gratitude that we give them as a nation, might in some way make it worth it.  But is death ever worth it?  And worth what?  Where do you draw the line in justifying deaths.

This is becoming more political than I intended.  I worry for my husband who is overseas, thank God, not in Afghanistan right now.  I want to hear his voice, just to know that he is still out there somewhere.  I worry for the future of our nation and for our troops.  I give my most fervent support and gratitude to the men and women who are responsible for the demise of one of the world's most reviled men.  As someone on Twitter said, "our Hitler".

"We will be relentless in defense of our citizens and our friends and allies. We will be true to the values that make us who we are. And on nights like this one, we can say to those families who have lost loved ones to al Qaeda’s terror: Justice has been done." President Obama, May 1 2011

"The fight against terror goes on, but tonight America has sent an unmistakable message:  No matter how long it takes, justice will be done." Former President George W. Bush, written statement, May 1 2011

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???

The Wait

From the very beginning, nothing in my relationship with Colby has gone according to any sort of "schedule" that I've tried to impose.  From the first few tentative months of dating but not dating, to the next difficult on and off years of maintaining a serious relationship long distance, I've always had to accept that my time line is simply out the window.  There were many times I thought it would never work out.  That things were ending or were over for good.  That as much as I saw a future with him, maybe it just wasn't meant to be.  But I should have had more faith, because here we are, almost nine years later, and things between us couldn't be better.

You'd think I would have learned something from that experience.

Deciding that we would have a baby was a no brainer.  We've both always known that we wanted to be parents someday.  When I was a little girl, I didn't dream of a high powered career, I dreamed of raising children.  So, it was never an "if" it was a "when".  And when we both confessed that we had suddenly found ourselves ready for that step so much earlier than we'd initially planned, it seemed meant to be.  Finally, something in our relationship that we were both ready for at the same time.  That held no drama or heartache as one or the other of us dreamed of a baby while the other held out for years longer.

And yet, here we are, 6 months later, and still we wait.  We wait and wait, and the waiting never gets any easier.

Today, we move into our seventh cycle of trying for a baby.  And I am having a really hard time maintaining any semblance of positivity.  I have learned how to pay very close attention to what my body is doing.  I spend the day, constantly staring at my chart, wondering where we are going wrong.  Our timing is perfect.  I eat and drink and take supplements all to enhance our chances of conceiving.  I exercise regularly.  We're young, healthy, vital people.  My cycles are on the short side, but regular, with a clear sign of ovulation.  We are doing everything in our power to make this baby happen, and nothing ever changes.

I can't help but ask, "Why?  Don't I deserve a baby just as much as anyone else?"

But what I am coming to realize is that babies aren't something that are "deserved".  Babies come to women who are not emotionally or physically ready for them.  They come to women who do not want them.  They come to teenagers or drug abusers or alcoholics.  Babies are not gifts for a life well lived.  The ability to create life is not a reward for making the right decisions and being a "good" person.  They are simply a scientific phenomenon in which sperm meets egg and life begins.  And that science pays no attention to a universal, purely human sense of what is right and just.

And yet, I still sit alone, wondering why it is that so many other women are given the responsibility of parenthood when it is not something that they asked for or even wanted, and why it is that two people who so desperately want and are prepared for that responsibility can't have it.  There is nothing fair about it.

There is nothing fair about life.  I know that full well.  What I do know is that I am lucky.  I am lucky that I have my health, and that I have loving and supportive family and friends.  I am lucky that I have a roof over my head, food to eat, leisure time, adorable dogs, a full life.

If only there were some guarantee, some assurance that some day, I will be able to conceive.  If that were the case, I could wait.  I could be patient.  It is the not knowing that wears me down day after day.  The elation when a month seems particularly promising followed by a despair that really can't be put into words when that promise turns into defeat.  The dreams of nursery decor, birthing plans, and tiny socks--all wiped away for yet another month.

I try to be strong, knowing how much worse it could be.  Knowing that there are others who have struggled with this for so much longer than I have and have so much more pain in their lives.  I remind myself, there is still time.  It could happen for you this month, or next.  Be happy for another month to drink wine and sleep in late.  Don't give up hope and don't blame yourself.

There is time.  There is so much time.  But the waiting.  Well, it's the hardest part.

The Anti-Announcement

There are approximately 6 million pregnancies ever year in the United States.

2.1 million women of the same age range are considered “infertile” (unable to become pregnant naturally over the course of 12 months).

An average woman in her mid-20s with excellent reproductive health has approximately a 20-25% chance of becoming pregnant each cycle.

The average couple in their mid-20s will try for five cycles before conceiving.

On average, 20% of couples do not get pregnant in their first year of trying. 95% succeed within two years.

If you had asked me six months ago how a woman conceives, I would have told you step 1) toss out the contraceptives, step 2) get it on till the break of dawn with your main squeeze, step 3) pee on a stick, step 4) baby.

Today, I could give an impromptu presentation on Basal Body Temperature, cervical mucous, various positions that could increase the odds of conceiving, how charting can improve a woman’s understanding of her cycle, what supplements can prolong the luteal phase, and the evils of a blue dye pregnancy test.

Essentially, now I realize how absolutely ignorant I was about how the reproductive system actually functions and what a miracle it is that anyone gets pregnant EVER. If you think you learned anything in that 2-week long unit on Human Reproduction in your high school Health class, I expect you’ve also got a lot to learn.

Six months ago, I thought you either got pregnant or you were infertile. I didn’t think about this secret group of women who were on a long journey of just “trying”. That despite the informal poll I conducted in my head of all the people I knew who went off birth control and got pregnant overnight, statistics show that there is a silent majority who spent months and months on the process before they finally got those two pink lines. It’s just that no one likes to talk about that part.

After one month of trying unsuccessfully, we were disappointed, but still optimistic. Two months in, and my optimism began to wilt. Three months in, I was charting my brains out and “trying” was verging on a military operation. As we enter the fourth month, it’s becoming increasingly difficult not to obsess, and the beginning of every cycle has become an enormous kick in the gut. Particularly when my body has decided to get its jollies by faking pregnancy symptoms like the past three months of near constant nausea and the joys of tender and swollen boobs post-(alleged) ovulation.

I’ve struggled with how much I want to publicly share this journey. It’s certainly a very private struggle for most women, and I think every woman who wants to have children, has this dream of blushingly and joyously announcing to an unexpecting world, that she is pregnant. That biology hasn’t failed her. That conceiving was a magical, dreamlike experience. Not that she cried every time she had to mark the start of a new cycle on a new chart. That she peed on seventeen sticks over the course of a particularly promising week. That she choked down horse-tranquilizer sized supplements on a daily basis. That she spent almost every evening with her hips elevated, hoping fervently that this time it would take.

That every month it didn’t work, and another friend announced her pregnancy, she bought a gift for a baby shower, or held an infant in her arms, she didn’t feel like a complete failure as a woman. Knowing that others have had to endure much greater trials, but recognizing that at a certain point, they probably also clung desperately to the same dwindling hope as she does that this month will be different.

But I feel compelled to share this experience. That there needs to be a voice saying, no, not every woman gets pregnant just from being in the same room as her husband and that is normal. Sometimes it takes time. If you are feeling this sense of defeat, and the world is telling you to “just relax”, you are not alone. I am not alone.

I would never equate what we are going through right now to the struggles of infertility. I know, and hope against hope, chances are good that we just need a few more months and we too will be making our joyful announcement. If it’s true that the average couple spends five cycles trying to conceive, we’re still well inside the window of “average”. But I also know that every month that ticks by puts us closer and closer to a frightening diagnosis. That something real might be wrong. Something that might not be fixable. Something that I’ve been afraid of since the moment I realized some women just can’t make babies.

I’ve spent so many years doing everything within my power to not get pregnant—cooing over other people’s little bundles of joy, then returning thankfully to my child-free life with my freedom to travel, plan a last minute date night, sleep in all day on a weekend, spend a rainy day with a book and silence. I don’t regret a single day of the past years that Colby and I have had to be selfish and to worry only about our own wants and needs. I treasure that time, and every day that goes by without a baby is another day that we can focus on strengthening our own relationship and relishing that freedom. But there is a bitter irony in the fact that for so long we tried so hard not to have a baby, and now that it’s what we want it has become such a struggle.

In a perfect world, this week I would be sitting down right now to write a sappy, but heartfelt, post announcing how thrilled Colby and I are to be entering the second trimester of a pregnancy. Instead, there is this. My truth. Still somewhere deep below all of the pessimism, there is that belief that our time will come. Maybe this month. Maybe next month. Maybe in a year. And the slimmest of silver linings is that now we know for certain, when our time comes, we will be two of the happiest, most thankful, and excited future parents the world has ever known. And I know in my heart that all of this sadness, frustration and disappointment will have been so worth it.

2010 in Review

My favorite thing about blogging is the ability it gives me to actually retain memories of my life.  I can't remember what I had for dinner yesterday, but I can tell you that on November 17, 2005 I had a conversation with a random girl in the fitness center about her certainty that Colby was going to cheat on me because he's a pilot.  Ah, memories!  Brought to you by blogging!

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to do a little retrospective on the year of our Lord two thousand and ten, and this survey that Janet filled out seemed to fit the bill.  So, without further ado... A Year in the Life of Angela: 

1. What did you do in 2010 that you'd never done before?
 Lived in a South Carolina.  I'd recommend it.

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions and will you make more for next year?
It didn't bode well that I had to look back in the archives to even remember what my New Year's resolutions were, but your know what?  I actually succeeded! My resolution was to be less of a homebody when Colby was away on trips, and people could accuse me of a lot of things this year, but being a homebody is not one of them.  I spent the vast majority of Colby's deployment traveling or entertaining visitors, and getting to know the amazing wives and girlfriends of our fellow pilot buddies.  I've gotten to know Charleston better than I think I ever knew Seattle, and I've had so much fun with a great new collection of friends.  I will make more for next year, but that's another post for another day.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Virtually everyone I know gave birth this year.  It was an epidemic of worrisome proportions.  Watch out, you could be next! 

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Unfortunately, it was a sad year as far as losing people I love very much.  I lost an amazing aunt who fought a long and brave struggle against cancer, a dear friend of the family who never had anything but a kind word to say, and my psychologically imbalanced but lovable 16-year-old family dog, Belle.

5. What countries did you visit?
It was a very good year for travel!  I went to Japan, Italy, Greece, Spain, and Malta. 

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you didn't have in 2010?
A wee bairn. 

7. What dates from 2010 will be etched in your memory, and why?
Honestly, I can't think of anything that memorable.  Guess that answers that question. 

8. What was your biggest achievement of this year?
Completing my Masters of Education in Elementary Education.  Suck on that, Grand Canyon University! 

9. What was your biggest failure?
Hm.  I honestly can't think of anything.  The only thing I might consider as a failure is still an ongoing work in progress that I'm not ready to categorize as a wash yet. 

10. Did you suffer illness of injury?
I found out that my internal lady business is a bit lopsided, but fortunately nothing painful or life threatening.

11. What was the best thing your bought?

I've been watching a busted, green television for the past five months.  Our Christmas present to ourselves was a new television.  I never knew colors could be so beautiful!

12. Where did most of your money go?
Mortgages.  Two of them.  Bleeeeerg. 

13. What did you get really excited about?
Vacations!  And Colby coming home from his deployment! 

14. What song will always remind you of 2010?
Ke$ha.  Ugh. 

15. Compared to this time last year are you a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
a) Happier
b) Thinner, but I was in better shape last year
c) Richer 

16. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Writing. 

17. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Watching television. 

18. What was your favorite tv program?
Well, my all time favorite show is Arrested Development.  Favorite new show in 2010?  It was a pretty bad year for television premieres, but Boardwalk Empire was a shining gem in a pile off doodoo.  Favorite show currently on tv... tie between Glee, Vampire Diaries, and Modern Family. 

19. What was the best book you read?
It was not a great year as far as literary discoveries go either.  I just didn't fall in love with many of the books I read.  But to answer the question, I'd go with either Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortensen or A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole. 

20. What did you want and get?
An epic vacation with my husband and parents. 

21. What did you want and not get?
A new phone.  Mostly because I'm waffling between sticking with the iPhone or switching to a Droid. 

22. What was your favorite film of 2010?
I really loved Black Swan.  Honestly, I can't even remember what else I've seen this year, so that one wins by default. 

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 28 on December 20.  We'd just gotten home from a long vacation the night before and were pretty wiped out, so decided to stay home.  But Chef Colby surprised me with an amazingly delicious dinner and a promise to take ballroom dance classes with me at a nearby dancing school.

24. How would you describe your personal fashion concept of 2010?
Take more risks, try out trends even if I think they'll never work.  I've fully embraced jeggings and leggings, though I still think rompers are for 8-year-olds. 

25. What kept you sane?
My level-headed husband, my supportive family, my wonderful friends, and the ability to word-vomit all of my thoughts onto the internet. 

26. What political issue stirred you most?
The repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell.  It's controversial, but I think it was an amazingly progressive step for our country and the military.

27. Who did you miss?
So many people, it's not even funny.  That's what happens when you've lived in four different states in six years. 

28. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.
This too shall pass. 

29. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
I suck at song lyrics, so I'll leave this one to Carrie Bradshaw:
"After all, seasons change. So do cities. People come into your life and people go. But it's comforting to know the ones you love are always in your heart. And if you're very lucky, a plane ride away."

Obligatory Holiday Round-Up

I kind of dropped off of the blogging radar there for a little while, yeah?  I've been constantly composing posts in my head over the past month and have written exactly... one of them.  So how will you ever know what exciting events I was up to over the holiday season?  How will you sleep at night not knowing EXACTLY how my Thanksgiving turned out or how many cookies I managed to eat over the Christmas weekend?

Obviously I can't leave you with these burning desires to know more about my holiday, but I can't bring myself to bore entertain you with a play-by-play of each holiday festivity.  So, that old lazy blogger stand-by comes into play: the photo post.

Thanksgiving

Cardinal rule of Southern cooking: If you can eat it, you can fry it.
If you think that's a lot of calories, you should have seen dessert.

Christmas

Three out of three individuals in this photo assisted in decorating the tree.  Some efforts were more appreciated than others.

Classing things up at the Charleston Jazz Orchestra's Holiday Swing.

The true meaning of Christmas?  Astronomically high electricity bills and s'mores.
(James Island Festival of Lights)

Thank you Charleston, for allowing me sweater dress temperatures on Christmas Eve, then jumping back into the 60s for the duration of winter.
(Dinner at Blossom)


My favorite part of Christmas is engaging in the annual rituals of pet torment.

Well, that and cookies.

Three Years

It's hard to believe that it's been three years since I put on the most expensive dress I will ever own, climbed into a black limousine with some of my very favorite people in the world and took a ten minute ride to an event that would change my life forever.
It's hard to believe that Colby has been a part of my life either as a friend, a boyfriend, or a husband for ten years.  That we've been together for eight of those years.
But we've crammed an awful lot of adventures into those years.  And considering the amount of time we've spent apart, we've managed to collect a vast amount of memories.  We've settled into a marriage that is both comfortable and exciting, and I look forward to the adventures that still wait for us down the road.
I'm so curious about where life will take us, what new experiences lie just around the corner.  I'm so lucky that I have such an amazing man to share those experiences with--someone to celebrate with when times are good, and someone who will let me cry on his shoulder when things get hard.  Someone who is intelligent, funny, sensitive, thoughtful, caring, hard working, passionate, not to mention damn good looking!  Here's to another incredible year together, and what I'm sure will be many more to come in the future.  Happy anniversary, Colby!

Back In the Saddle Again

Well, Typepad just charged my credit card for the next year of blogging, so I figured I should probably actually use it.  I've been back home in Charleston since last Tuesday, but my sister was in town through Saturday and I took the weekend to regroup and recover from the post-whirlwind slump.

I left my camera at my parents' house like a big dummy, so the recap of the past few weeks will have to wait, but suffice it to say, all of my adventures were exactly as awesome and exactly as exhausting as I was expecting.  I feel so lucky to have such amazing friends and family, and even more lucky that I have the time and means to visit them and see so much of the country in such a small amount of time.

Saturday I spent glued to the sofa, working my way slowly through the epic DVR queue I managed to accumulate by going on vacation at the peak of the Fall/Summer television overlap.  Then yesterday, I put on my Sunday best and headed downtown to see the Charleston Ballet Theatre's production of Alice in Wonderland and found a new favorite restaurant.  I've been searching for delicious gnocchi in the US since our honeymoon in Italy, and I FINALLY found it at Muse, an old Charleston single house that's been converted into a restaurant and wine bar  My mouth is watering just thinking about it, and lucky for me, I have leftovers waiting for me in the refrigerator.

Looking forward, things are going to slow down for the next couple of weeks, but then, sometime during the first week of November COLBY IS COMING HOME!!!  We'll have two whole weeks where he won't have to go to work or even think about the Air Force, then, just two short weeks after that, we'll be zipping off for our international adventure in the Mediterranean!

I've been slooooowly working my way through my Google Reader and can't wait to hear what kinds of excitement y'all have been up to over the past few weeks.  Also, on the business end of things, if anyone would be interested in guest posting in December while I'm floating around in a giant boat that will hopefully feel exactly the same as a hotel on dry land, let me know.

Popping In Before I Pop Back Out

Remember back when I said it was going to get crazy hectic in a couple of weeks what with finishing up school, hosting visitors and heading out of town?  Well, is that any excuse for being an absolutely dreadful blogger lately?

Week before last was packed with Charleston Restaurant Week (which I'm still hoping to review at some point), the birthday celebrations for the two year old I'm still trying to figure out how to kidnap without hurting anyone's feelings or any legal repercussions, finishing two weeks worth of homework, keeping up with Insanity, and a few other random social outings.  I also had a misunderstanding with my hair dresser in which the dark hair I loved somehow ended up mousy brown.  Soooo... that's fun!

Then last week, one of my oldest friends came to Charleston for the first time, so I had a great time showing her around the area and enjoying the fact that we can go ages without seeing each other and then pick up exactly where we left off.  We've been friends since meeting at the bus stop when she was in 2nd grade and I was in 3rd grade, and we're really more like sisters at this point than anything else.

I was hoping to do a more thorough recap of her visit, but since I'm once again running low on blogging time, suffice it to say, I had an amazing time and hopefully she did too!  We visited the Irvin House vineyard and the Firefly vodka distillery for tastings (muscadine wine = BLECH!), the Charleston Tea Plantation, the Angel Oak, shopped, toured, and ghost hunted our way through downtown Charleston, and certainly did our part to stimulate the local economy!

My recovery day, after she left, was spent with a 3+ hour nap and an 8+ hour night of sleep.  I'm still trying to get my energy level back as I'm leaving tomorrow for a week in Vermont and New York City, followed up by a week at home in Louisiana, followed up by a few days back in Charleston with my sister.  I'm simultaneously completely excited and completely exhausted contemplating it all.

Hopefully you'll be able to find it in your heart to forgive my spotty posting and lack of commenting for the next couple of weeks, but soon school will be over, my visitors will have deserted me, and I will once more become Google Reader's bitch.  Till then!

If You Can't Say Something Nice...

"I'm a very honest person.  Sometimes I hurt people's feelings, but I just tell it like it is."

"I can't help it--I tell the truth--at least people always know exactly what I think!"

I've been hearing a lot of self-descriptions like the ones above lately.  People declaring their own blunt honesty with a hint of apology and a smile.  It's gotten me wondering, where does one draw the line between honesty and hurtfulness and what ever happened to that old saying "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

I'll admit, I'm not always the most thoughtful person when it comes to the words that leave my mouth.  As I've gotten older, I've made more of an effort to watch what I say and think more about the impact my words could have on another person, but that doesn't mean I don't frequently stick my foot in my mouth or unknowingly say something that could offend or hurt another person.  And of course, if someone asks for a truthful opinion, I'm not advocating a lie.

But isn't there a difference between lying to someone and responding in a tactful manner?  In not taking so much pride in your own blunt honesty that you forget the fact that words can be the most painful weapons in our arsenal?

There's a lot of teasing about the Steel Magnolia approach of "Bless her heart" when you really mean "What a dummy", and I don't necessarily believe that's the perfect approach either.  But I think there is something to the idea of phrasing our thoughts in a kinder way and focusing less on our own thoughts and opinions and more on our friends' feelings.

I suspect that this new "honest" approach has a lot to do with how self-centered we've become as a culture.  We blog our every brainwave (guilty as charged!), we update our Facebook status every time we leave the house or think of a clever quip (um, yep!), we tend to think that our own thoughts and opinions are universally accepted and agreed upon.

So, I ask you:  Does honesty trump tact?  If a friend asks you if a pair of jeans makes her look fat, is there really a right answer?  Do you consider yourself honest to a fault or do you hear Thumper's voice on a loop in your head on a regular basis--"If you can't say something nice..."

Impending Death Is Not Acute Enough

Oh, internet.

I'm sorry to do this to you, but Colby's not around right now, and I have managed to completely freak myself out via Google, WebMD, and scores of illiterate postings to pregnancy forums.

So, I mentioned that I've been really, REALLY tired since I got home from Japan.  At first I thought I was just having trouble adjusting from the jet lag, but then the exhaustion persisted and I started thinking thyroid disorder or iron deficiency.

Then I started getting fatter, and I have a little belly pooch where there has never been any poochage before.  This without having changed my diet extraordinarily, making an 8 pound weight gain in two months more than a little perplexing.

I mean, the obvious reaction from the internet as well as everyone else in the world is OMG, you're pregnant!  Even Colby last night hesitantly made that suggestion.

I've been laughing it off, but secretly in my crazy brain, I've sort of come to that conclusion myself, against all odds.  I have taken FOUR pregnancy tests.  And they're all negative.  And I've had a fairly normal cycle if ya catch my drift.  I mean, it's just not likely is what I'm saying.

But then yesterday, I got horrible cramps.  I woke up this morning and (fair warning to anyone squeamish or of the male persuasion) there was some SERIOUS bleeding going on downtown.  I kept an eye out for anything clot-like (Sorry.  Gross.  I know.) but so far it's just been like someone cut an artery in my lady business.

I was stupid enough to spend the morning googling 2-month baby bumps and miscarriages, and upon formally diagnosing myself with the former as well as the latter, I called to make a doctor's appointment.  But then, I chickened out at the last minute.  I mean, come on, FOUR NEGATIVE PREGNANCY TESTS, three cycles since the last time conception could have been physically possible.

I'm not saying it's completely out of the realm of possibility that I had the Immaculate Conception v. 2.0, but I think we can all agree it's pretty unlikely.

So, I told the appointment line that I was having very heavy bleeding and had been feeling weak and tired for the past month or so, and the earliest they can get me in is Thursday afternoon.  If only I'd broken my finger, I could see a doctor today!

I'm trying to remind myself how well playing doctor for myself has worked out in the past.  (Reminder:  Not well.  You know, because I'm NOT A DOCTOR.)  But yeah, I'm still kind of freaking out over here.  And then there's the riveting mental battle between OH GOD I'M DYING and complete awareness of how overly dramatic I'm being.  I think the bottom line is that I've just watched way too many episodes of Glee.  Hysterical pregnancy!  Eff yeah!!

Still, the thought of getting off the couch right now is enough to make me want to faint in a decidedly Victorian manner, so I think I'm just going to lay here with the vapors for a bit longer and wait for death.  Or wait until I'm hungry enough to get up and make something to eat.

The Accidental Vigilante

First a note on my weekly weight loss check-ins.  Last week I had a number of, ummmm, how shall I say this delicately... digestive issues.  As in, I was eating food, and then the food never really... came out.  Soooo, I spent the weekend with a gentle laxative, a severe case of the bloats, and an aversion to going anywhere near a scale or a tape measure.  I'll be doing my next check-in this Friday, and then my final weigh-in will be the following Thursday, also known as THE DAY BEFORE I LEAVE FOR JAPAN!!!!

I will say, I've seen some very positive changes in my body, regardless of what my weight turns out to be.  My arms are much more defined, I can actually see some toning in my legs, and while I wouldn't say I have a six-pack yet, I am hovering around the two-pack area, and have those two little lines of defined muscle running down my obliques.  Also, last week, I easily fit into a pair of shorts that have always been skin tight.  So, I'm a happy camper!

Aaaaanyway, this past weekend we went out for an amazing dinner at The Library restaurant, in downtown Charleston.  We got an incredible table, on an elevated platform right next to a window overlooking the street.  As I was enjoying my calamari and beets, bacon and goat cheese salad, I started giggling at a guy across the street making an attempt to ride a bicycle.  He couldn't keep upright and had to keep putting his feet on the ground trying to stabilize, then he crashed to the ground.

At this point, Colby started wondering what I was guffawing at, so he turned around to look just after the hapless bicyclist struggled back to his feet, pushed off again and rammed into the side of a parked vehicle.  That's when I stopped laughing and we realized that this man wasn't exactly in a sober state of mind.  He once again tottered forward a few feet, then crashed to the ground once more, this time he lay prostrate for about 30 seconds next to his bike.

Eventually, he got back up and hauled his bicycle to the sidewalk where he leaned it on its kickstand and then stumbled back toward the bar from whence he'd come.  It was then that I looked back at the parked car and noticed that the backseat passenger's door was completely bashed in where he had run into it.  The guy was still standing in front of the bar, wobbling dangerously on his feet.

I decided the only thing to do was tell our waiter what had happened so that if the owners of the vehicle asked questions about what had happened to their car, there would at least be some explanation, and the guy might still be in the bar.  He told the manager of the hotel where the restaurant is located, and I went about enjoying my scallops and herbed risotto.

About 30 minutes passed, when Colby looked up a spotted a cop headed toward the guy who was now seated on the front stoop of the bar, looking a bit worse for the wear.  He stood up to talk to her, gestured to his now bleeding knee, then suddenly she was pulling out the handcuffs, reaching around to pull his hands behind his back and marching him towards the car.

I felt absolutely awful.  I really hadn't intended to get the guy arrested, I just knew that if my car was bashed in when I left a lovely stroll along the Charleston waterfront, I'd want to know who did it.  After we finished eating, the cops were still out front talking to the couple who owned the car.  We gave them my information in case they needed a statement from me to get their car taken care of, and that was the end of my evening of watching out for the innocent people of Charleston.

Although I feel badly that the guy was arrested, I'm glad that the owners of the vehicle should be able to get the damage fixed and hopefully that will be the last time Drunky McGee decides that a bicycle is a viable alternative to driving when smashed beyond all oblivion.  Someone get me some Spandex and a theme song--I've got a whole world out there waiting for me to save it!

The Arts: Culinary and Otherwise

As terrible as this past weekend was for my diet, it was absolutely amazing for my palate.  One of my only regrets about moving down here, was leaving behind the wide variety of restaurants the the Seattle area had to offer.  Let me tell you, I need not have worried.  I have found more favorite restaurants in the six months since we moved here than I found in the entire time we were in Washington.  I'm still on the lookout for a great hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint and some Greek, but I have a couple of contenders on my list that I'm hoping to check out in the next few weeks.

But as far as just downright delicious food, Charleston has that in SPADES, and we hit three of the creme-de-la-creme this weekend.

Red's Ice House has a couple of locations, but the one we went to is located on Shem Creek, a fun collection of restaurants and bars with a casual, island feel overlooking the water.  We've also been to and loved Vickery's, but Red's had such a cool, laid back atmosphere and the food was downright delicious.  I started with a fishbowl of a pina colada, then had some of Laura's Sexy Salsa, and finished the evening with shrimp tacos.  Yum!  As the perfect ending to a lowcountry evening, we stood out on the deck for a while, watching a pod of dolphins frolicking in the creek.

The Mustard Seed, located in Mt Pleasant, has become a staple in my entertainment routine when guests come in town.  I have never had a single, solitary piece of food that I did not enjoy with the whole of my being and to the best of my knowledge, neither has anyone who has come with me.  My go to entree is the pecan encrusted goat cheese cakes on mixed greens with a raspberry vinaigrette (I generally request the balsamic instead) and there is the perfect amount of goat cheese to go with each delicious bite of salad.  This weekend Colby got the pad thai and our guest got some sort of intriguing concoction including beef tips, and we were all in hog heaven.  I haven't tried any of their baked goods yet, but believe me, as soon as this diet ends, that's at the top of my list!

Oh 17 North, how I love you with all of my being!  We've driven past this place a number of times, and it's pretty unassuming from the exterior.  However, once you're seated out on the lovely patio surrounded by their vegetable and herb garden, you completely forget the busy highway nearby.  And the food... oh, the FOOD!  To begin with, the cheese and herb biscuits we started with were heavenly.  Then came the delicious salad with spinach, blue cheese, bacon, apples and strawberries.  And then, the melt in your mouth flank steak with the most decadent pomme frites.  My stomach is grumbling just thinking of it.  Best of all, we learned that if you go early, there's a special from 4-6 where you get an appetizer, entree and dessert for twenty dollars.  Sign!  Me!  Up!!

Aside from stuffing our faces at any available moment, we also took in a couple of Piccolo Spoleto events.  On Thursday night we went to see {title of show} at an adorable local theater.  The house was filled with tables and chairs, much like a dinner theater, and there was a bar in the back where you could buy drinks throughout the show.  Perfection, my friends!  The show was pretty funny too and really well performed, for a local theater.  On Saturday we went down to a sandcastle competition at the Isle of Palms and the Charleston Farmers Market in Marion Square.  I was also thrilled to discover that Broadway shows do in fact tour through the local area, which was another experience I thought we'd left behind when we moved here.  Legally Blonde and Spamalot, here I come!

Have I mentioned lately how absolutely in love with Charleston I am?

Oh What A Week

Wel, last week was such a jam-packed crazy bunch of days, and now I find myself exactly back where I was last Saturday.  Colby finally got home from a three-week long trip last Saturday and on Sunday his parents came in town for a few days to see the Charleston sights and help us out with projects around the house.  We finally got around to installing a dog door on the porch, a microwave over the range, tore out some old ugly plants and put in some new lilies and dahlias, and generally ate our way around the city.

It's been a challenge teaching the dogs how to use the dog door.  Jack will go through it on his own about 50% of the time, but Ellie will only go through if she sees Jack do it first or if you lift the flap for her so that she can see through it.  I'm trying to step back and let them figure the door out on their own now that they've been in and out through it a number of times with assistance, but mostly they end up circling the porch unable to figure out how to get outside, or stuck out in the yard, staring at the screen door.  This is my entertainment.

I started the South Beach Diet a couple of weeks ago in an effort to improve my diet which had deteriorated to X-tra Cheddar Blast Goldfish for lunch and cereal for dinner and hopefully lose a couple of pounds of fat that are covering my super sweet Jillian Michaels muscles.  The diet went well for the first week and I lost about three pounds, all of which were returned to my butt as I totally fell off the wagon and ate every carb and high calorie item I came across while my inlaws were in town.

It was a fun week, but now things are back to "normal" as Colby is once more out of town on a trip, I'm restarting my diet, and instead of planning an itinerary of Charleston attractions, I'm working on a lesson plan about place value in math.

Hm, this post is so uninteresting, I just got distracted by the Weather Channel.  Here's hoping you're having a significantly more exciting weekend than I am!

Medical Revelations

It was an interesting week of doctor's appointments.  As further proof that I'm literally falling to pieces in my old age, I went from not having been to a doctor's office in almost three years, to three visits in one month.

My first appointment last week was to deal with the mild form of leprosy that has been spreading over my body for the past couple of weeks.  Much like the Wizard of Oz, the doctor asked all kinds of questions through his medical assistant before he even saw me, and by the time he came in, he'd already determined that I was afflicted with some form of poison ivy.  So, well done blog friends!  I now bestow upon you honorary doctorates in poison ivy detection.  I still don't know exactly when I touched poison ivy, but I'm now terrified to go out in the garden wearing anything less than a HAZMAT suit.

I've tapered down from a high dose of prednisone last week, to just one tablet per day today and tomorrow, plus Claritin to fight the allergy.  I'm still the slightest bit itchy, but a miraculous amount of healing has taken place in the last four days.  I can now wear short sleeve shirts without scaring small children, and while my legs are healing more slowly, I think I'll be back in skirts and shorts by the end of this week.

Unfortunately, I had to follow up that appointment with another visit to the doctor to have my lady business explored.  Now, I've never had anything out of the ordinary happen at one of these oh so joyous appointments, but I suspected something might be amiss as the doctor spent more than double the time and effort on my exam than any other doctor has in the past.  He was quick to assure me that I shouldn't read anything into this, and that this is just a precautionary check, but he scheduled me for an ultrasound next month.  Apparently my uterus hasn't had its V-8 today and seems to be tilted further forward than it should be.

I've been hesitant to spend too much time with Doctor Google after the disaster of diagnosing my last itchy malady, but honestly, how could I not do at least a couple of searches.  I'm glad I did, as in a strange turn of events, the internet actually made me feel better rather than worse about the situation.  Tipsy uteruses (uteri?  uterii??) seem to be a fairly common situation, and from the testimony of many poorly spelled message board missives, don't seem to really affect fertility.

Of course, I've always had this massive premonition that I'll have a difficult time getting pregnant when the time comes, so I can't help but feel a little bit like this is just more proof in that direction.  But I'm trying really hard not to work myself up over it.  I'll have the ultrasound done on May 3rd, head to New York for a week the next day, then come back home and talk it over with my doctor.

The thing I'm most worried about right now is how I'll possibly drink that much water and not be able to go to the bathroom for two hours before the exam.  Maybe it's time to invest in some Depends and rubber pants.

Ashes, Ashes, I Always Fall Down

I'd like to begin by saying that I have officially become a true Charlestonian in my own, very special way.  I do a lot of things very well--I read quickly, I'm good with kids, I make a mean boxed macaroni and cheese--but one thing I do not do well is walking.  I am a TERRIBLE walker.

My poor mother enrolled me in ballet classes when I was just a wee thing, I'm sure with dreams of seeing her graceful daughter twirling around the stage in a gossamer tutu, and still I ended up being one of the klutziest people I know of.  I'm constantly tripping on things, misjudging depth and slamming my forehead into corners or walls, tumbling down stairs...  One of my biggest fears living in a two story house and being alone so often is that I'll somehow catapult off the top step and break my neck only to have my dogs eat my face and my husband discover my remains when he returns home from a trip two weeks later.

Long time readers may remember my graceful tumble down the hills of Seattle, not once, but twice within the span of about 60 seconds, prompting a kind Samaritan to doubt my sobriety.  That was also the experience that led to my phobia of walking down hills of any sort.  My heart leaps into my throat even thinking about descending a downward grade of more than 1%.  And yet, in my life, I have come to the conclusion that you never really live somewhere until you bite the dust there in a spectacularly painful and humiliating fashion.

Up until yesterday, I had managed to navigate the streets of Charleston with great success, and I think the heady rush of stability led to a sense of ambulatory overconfidence and my eventual downfall (pun intended).  There I was, walking down the treacherous sidewalks of the city, admiring the impressive architecture and chatting with a friend, when out of nowhere that sidewalk reached up, caught hold of my boot and dragged me down to the ground with impressive force.

The really ridiculous part was, as I observed the ground rushing toward my face, all I could think to myself was, "Oh my God, my boots are going to be so scuffed!"  As I pushed myself off of the ground, sadly taking in the shredded and scraped condition of my jeans and knees, and carefully brushed the gravel off of the remaining shreds of my dignity, I heard the sound of a car window rolling down and a voice floated out into the damp lowcountry air, "Are you okay?"  As I looked over at my friend Sarah and then back at the family gazing out of their car in surprise and concern, I felt a sense of what can only be described as relief.  It had to happen at some point, and now I have that awkward first time behind me.

And then the throbbing began.

Kind of A Fun Few Days

Oh, blog, how I have missed you while I've been busy dashing hither, thither and yon with a variety of amazing people.  Over the past week and a half I've conducted a grand tour of the Southeast and have been quite impressed with what I've found.

Last weekend I headed west for a girlie weekend in Atlanta with my dear friend Melissa.  We visited the Olympic park, ate at a delicious Italian restaurant (Baraonda, if you ever find yourself starving on Peachtree street), then discovered a bar that was serving $5 hurricanes.  Being that the origin of Melissa and my friendship is in our days at LSU and many of those days were spent wandering the streets of New Orleans, we were suitably impressed by this discovery.  After staying up until 4 am chatting about God knows what, we let ourselves sleep in and then headed out to brunch, ever so slightly after noon, and spent the rest of the day wandering around downtown, napping, and then eating some more.  It was a wonderful weekend, that in retrospect included a vast amount of caloric intake, but I wouldn't change a thing!

I returned home Monday and immediately transitioned into hostess mode, whizzing through the house cleaning and organizing before my parents arrived that evening.  They spent the week with us and we managed  to cram more Charleston sightseeing into that week than I've done in two months of living here.  We took a boat trip out to Fort Sumter, did a walking tour of historic Charleston, bought sweetgrass baskets at the downtown market, visited the Angel Oak on John's Island, toured the Charleston Tea Plantation where we sampled Charleston Breakfast tea, drove down to Georgia for a beautiful day in Savannah, and ate at scads of amazing restaurants.  It was such fun, and I'm more in love with Charleston now than ever.

My parents left yesterday, and today I'm getting back to my current version of real life.  I'm starting my first of the only three classes I have remaining in my Master's program before I can start student teaching, and I have piles of laundry yet to get through.  It sure would be nice to be retired and living down in the heart of Savannah with a battalion of hired help right about now!

Down the Rabbit Hole

It has been quite an eventful week here at Chez Blackwood.  We've been here, there and everywhere and life doesn't show much sign of slowing down.

After I left you last, we dropped off the pups at the House of Disease and headed down to Florida to visit some friends and see the shuttle launch.  Unfortunately, the clouds didn't cooperate and at 4:14 am they made the decision to cancel the launch.  This was a pretty big bummer, but we loaded ourselves back in the car and started the drive back to our friend's house.  When I glanced over at a red light and notice that Colby's blinks had become extremely extended, I made the decision that I needed to be driving.  If anyone is going to kill me, I want it to be me, you know?  So, we got home around 7:15 in the morning and all collapsed into bed for a pre-Super Bowl nap.

The Super Bowl was amazing to watch, made even more so by the fact that I was able to find lambic at the liquor store next door, so I could pretend to drink beer with everyone else!  It was an incredible feeling to see the Saints win, and I think all of us Louisianians are still having a really difficult time believing that actually happened.  We managed to settle ourselves in for another short winter's nap, then woke up again at 3 am to drive to the Jacksonville beach in the hopes of seeing the shuttle launch in the distance.  And I can't lie--I wasn't all that hyped up for the launch, but I have to admit, seeing that shuttle blast up into space and bend around the horizon was awe inspiring.  We could even see the two rocket boosters drop off the shuttle and fall back to the ocean.  Crazy cool.

We got back home all in one piece later that day and picked up the dogs, who seemed fine at the time, but since then, poor sweet Jack seems to have incubated a lovely case of kennel cough.  He's been through much worse, so for now I'm just keeping an eye on him to see if it gets any worse over the next day or two.  Everything I've read says to keep infected dogs isolated from other dogs, but that's really just unrealistic in our house, so we'll also watch Ellie and hope that she doesn't come down with a case.

This weekend was another one filled with fun.  We celebrated a friend's birthday on Friday with good food and strong margaritas, then Valentine's Day rolled around and we decided to stay in and make our own delicious dinner.  Chef Colby started the parade of gourmet delights with homemade bruschetta, then followed up with bacon wrapped filet mignon with goat cheese and a balsalmic vinegar reduction, garlic and basil penne, and grilled asparagus.  It... was... fantastic.  The only thing that could have possibly been better in a restaurant is the fact that someone else did the dishes!

Last night I went to my first wine shop book club meeting and enjoyed a glass of merlot and wonderful conversation with some great ladies then came home to not one, but TWO king cakes.  And of course we've been watching the Olympics and I am completely flummoxed by the figure skating scoring system, but was thrilled to see Shen and Zhao win after hearing their beautiful story.  Part of what I love about the Olympics is the joy of rooting for the home team, but also the support and love you begin to feel for competitors from other countries.

This week will be spent prepping for my parents to visit next week and my weekend trip to Atlanta to visit my dear, sweet friend Melissa who I haven't seen since my New York City bachelorette party.  I usually take the couple of days before my parents get here to frantically clean and organize the house, but since I won't be here I'll have to trust that Colby doesn't cause too much destruction while I'm gone.

I hope you all enjoyed your weekend, and don't forget to indulge today on Mardi Gras!  Drink an Abita, eat some Zapps and then proceed to feel immensely guilty and attempt to atone for all of you indiscretions over the next 40 days!

The Friend Fade

I don't believe it's possible to live a life without regrets.  Do I think that people should wallow in regrets or let those regrets hold them back in any way?  Absolutely not.  But show me a person who says they truly have no regrets, and I'll show you a liar.  Heck, just today I've racked up at least a dozen--I regret not going for a run, I regret that I forgot to file my unemployment claim last week so now I won't get paid, I regret not making a hair appointment sooner because my hair is driving me absolutely batty.  I could go on at length, but those are a pretty telling random sampling.

But I have big lifetime regrets as well.

There are two people whose friendship meant the world to me for a brief moment in my life, but because of time or immaturity I didn't hold on to.

One was a friendship that died because of the inevitable impossibility of three teenage girls being able to sustain the "best friends" relationship long term.  I'm not even sure that three adult women are capable of being best friends without any friction or hurt feelings, but leave this task in the hands of three fifteen to sixteen year old girls and there are bound to be fireworks.  The bad kind.  More like Surface to Air Missiles, actually.

The other girl was one with whom I became close friends my senior year in high school and then bonded with further through our college years.  In retrospect, I realize that friendship also started out with three of us, and quickly deteriorated into a two person situation.  I'm like the Grim Reaper of friendship--make friends with me and fear for the life of your outside relationships.  I leave behind a blazing trail of razed and mangled friendships.  Anyway, that one was all well and good until I graduated from college and moved out of state, leading to an ever-slowing trickle of emails and phone calls which eventually ground to a halt.

The first friend, I actually did hear from when I was in college.  She emailed me with a much justified and understandable, "Hey, so after all of these years, can we talk about what the hell happened?"  I wrote back and we traded a couple of emails and talked about meeting up, but then I went through a nightmare of a breakup, the whole world became all about me and my woes and heartache, and I can't exactly remember how that correspondence fell off the wheels.  I was too busy starving myself and reading self-help books and angsty poetry.

There are still days when I think about reaching out.  Through the magic of the internet and my overwhelming curiosity, I have a basic idea of how their lives have turned out, at least in the big picture sense.  If I really wanted to, I know that it would be pretty easy to get in touch with both of them.  So, I guess my biggest regret is not losing their friendship in the first place, but knowing that I'm not brave enough to make the first step toward reconnecting.  Is it a regret that I lose sleep over, or that haunts my every waking moment, no.  But it is one that crops up in a big way from time to time when I'm feeling particularly nostalgic.

I know that even if we did touch base again and exchange a couple of emails, nothing would ever change the hurt that I caused one friend or compensate for the length of time we've been out of touch.  It's a sort of "let sleeping dogs lie" response, and sure, that may be cowardly, but after all of this time I find it hard to believe that they're sitting at home on a Monday night wondering about me.  So, that's the excuse I've allowed myself to use, and I just make do with a google or facebook search here and there to quell any lingering curiosity.

Oh my God, I am such a stalker.  I definitely regret that, but not as much as I regret the fact that I haven't eaten a brownie today.  At least that last one can be fixed, pronto.

Angela's Guide to Overcoming Laziness

Step 1: ...

Sooooo, that's still a work in progress.

I have been making great efforts to actually Get Up!  Off of the Sofa!  And Do Stuff!!  I would say overall it's been a fairly successful endeavor, but I've got to tell you it's been a challenge.

Last weekend was filled with enjoyment and nausea.  On Friday night I tried out a new restaurant, Virginia's on King and then took in a couple of sketch groups from the New York based Upright Citizens Brigade who came to Charleston to perform as a part of the city's four-day comedy festival.  Dinner was good, though not my favorite cuisine experience in the lowcountry so far, and the comedy was hilarious.  Saturday, a pal turned 30, so I headed over to her place where we managed to relocate a couple of bottles of wine from their original containers to our stomachs and pass out on the sofa at an undetermined time.  I woke up Sunday, a little groggy and disoriented and spent the rest of the day trying to make my house stop wobbling around every time I got up to go to the bathroom or eat a donut.

Oh, and then I WATCHED THE SAINTS WIN THE NFC CHAMPIONSHIP!  Look, I'll admit it, I'm totally a bandwagon fan.  It's not that I was ever opposed to the Saints, it's just that I never watched professional football, so I was pretty neutral one way or another.  But come on, they're my home team, they're tearing it up out there on the field and I'm damn proud of them.  Does that make me a super-fan?  No.  But you can bet your sweet ass I'll be cheering from the deepest place in my soul while they're playing in the Superbowl.

Anyhow, after the excitement of last weekend, I retreated deep into my introvert cave to recharge my socialization batteries.  I've made a bit more progress around the house as far as organizing the daunting piles of crap we still have stored behind closed doors.  Colby comes home next weekend, and I'm hoping the next week will be spent in a massive attack on the projects that try as I might, I simply can't (read:don't want to) do by myself.

This weekend should be a quiet one, so I'm planning to finish a book, work on a little scribbling of my own and potentially try out my new Jillian Michaels DVD.  There's also a pretty good chance that I some point, I'm going to work in a cupcake, just to counteract the harmful effects of too much healthy exercise.