Life on the Tilt-A-Whirl

Think back to your very best day in life.  For most of us, it includes a very significant event.  A wedding, or a birth or even a break up.  But can you identify the best day where nothing of significance happened?  There are a few days for me like that -- one is a spectacular day in London that included some fish and chips, watching the sun go down over London Bridge and the Thames river, and a slide down this giant modern sculpture at the Tate Modern museum.  I can't pinpoint exactly what made it so perfect, but for one day...that was my reality.  A million fun, thought provoking, and different things were at my finger tips.

I'm luckily that I have one more day that things came together so unassumingly.  October 25, 2005.  A trip to Los Angeles with my Mom - her first experience into my Counting Crows world.  Sure I could've invited someone else - but my Mom - well, she can be a good time - and she's never experienced a big Hollywood rock star evening.  Like most good stories - it started with Fish Tacos and ended at The Roosevelt Hotel with Topanga from Boy Meets World.  But what happened in between was the fun part.

My mom sat next to a drunk loud mouth from Chicago.  And four years later - we're preparing to get married.

After that, we agreed to meet a friend with a soft Texas accent and a penchant for leaving I-pods on planes and tickets at home.  Four years later, David is one of my closest friends. 

And I find both of these things to be quite amazing.  Yes, the show was amazing - and we had a good time at the after party - but meeting two people who would change my lifes direction so much in one night - now that's some pretty good odds.

This morning i stepped on a staple.  A big freaking staple.  I'm not sure if it was a carpet staple or one of those staples that holds together a cardboard box, but it really didn't matter because I was much too concerned about the freaking staple lodged inside my foot. 

Doug was blessed with the sensitivity gene and after he took the staple out, and watched my foot start turning a crimson red, he said "MAKE SURE YOU DONT GET ANY BLOOD ON THE SHEETS". 

Dismissing it, I thought it was a heat of the moment thing.  That is, until I brought it up in our instant message conversation a few minutes ago.

[10:41] DSLLSD: I love you though...
[10:42] Leecha98: love you too, even if you tell me not to get blood on the sheets when im in great pain
[10:44] DSLLSD: THEY'RE NEW SHEETS!!!
[10:45] Leecha98: I STEPPED ON A FREAKING STAPLE

Apparently new sheets trump pain.

here's stating the obvious:  Doug and I bicker.  I use the word bicker instead of argue, and I think there's an obvious difference.  According to dictionary.com:

bick⋅er1   /ˈbɪkər/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [bik-er] Show IPA

ar⋅gue   /ˈɑrgyu/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [ahr-gyoo] Show IPA verb, -gued, -gu⋅ing.

–verb (used with object)

Our impassioned debates are over things that people don't agonize over

He sorts and washes things by color.  I do so by fabric and color (towels have their own separate load)

He rinses things and puts them in the dishwasher, I have to get all the gunk off (some may call that washing)

He wants a laser show at the wedding.  I would rather not risk seizures

He has to have the sheets and duvet straight before getting into bed.  I don't even need to have sheets on the bed to fall asleep.

He thinks chili beans are just beans - no meat.  Chili is something completely different when it comes from Texas or anywhere east of there.

Really, we could have a better use of our time than bickering but I think somewhere deep down (or maybe just if you scratch the surface) we enjoy bickering.  Or perhaps I enjoy being right and Doug enjoys the same.  Anywho, some people sometimes misinterpret it.  They think we go to bed angry - but the truth is, a minute after he jokingly tells me how much my cooking sucks, I can look into his eyes, kiss him and wonder how I got so lucky to have a man who argues so passionately, love me so passionately too. 

And that's how I know I'm marrying The One (either that or I got a concussion along the way) 

I love autumn in New Mexico because it just nudges you along.  I miss autumn in New Mexico - smelling the roasting of green chile in the parking lot of the grocery store.  The last bits of summer at the State Fair.  The cool crisp mornings of Balloon Fiesta that give way to warm sunny afternoons.

Chicago isn't quite the nudging type of city.  Autumn smacks you in the ass.  And as I sit here looking at the 10 day weather outlook (highlights include freeze advisories, 44 degree highs, rain and wind) - I'm tempted to complain about how cold it is, and how I'd rather be back home. 

And then I think back to yesterday's trip to the mailbox.  The cold wind rushing through my skin.  The scream of thousands of leaves trying to hold on to the dying trees.  The fleeting thoughts of the first sign of flurries that will come in the next month or so.  No, there's nothing subtle about autumn in Chicago, but maybe, just maybe Im finding  joy in that too.

what I'm about to say may shock you. 

I slept with David Letterman too

1)  I get up for work before Doug does

2)  I get dressed in the dark.

Why would these two confessions shock you?  Well, I'm not well known for my ability and eagerness to get up early.  I also don't really turn on a whole lot of lights when getting dressed because Doug is still trying to get a few more Z's before he has to get up in the morning.  Why I would try to be nice to someone who gets to work from home and stay in his pajamas all day is debatable, but that's a story for another time.

Generally speaking, the whole getting dressed in the dark thing works out for me, and to be quite honest, I think I would do it even if I didn't have a bedmate who wanted more sleep.  But on certain days, I cross my legs in a big meeting and start chuckling at myself for doing such idiotic things:

Blue

That's right - rocking the navy blue socks with the all black outfit.

And yes, my legs really are that white.

a funny thing happens after you get engaged.  You feel like you can conquer the world and decisions are just decisions - they're not life and death questions you ask yourself.  Then you really delve into wedding plans.  And trust me, no one cares about your wedding plans quite as much as you think they do.  So the last five months I've started building my dream day - and I had all these ideals that wedding planning was going to be the best 14 months of my life - and now

Day 1 is like:  Everyone is going to be soooooo bending over to get my business - I will be treated like a queen.

Day 30:  Hmmm, well obviously there are a few incompetent people in the wedding business who don't know how to return a phone call.

Day 60:  It must be going into their busy season and its really difficult to plan a wedding from a far

Day 120:  The whole wedding industry is incompetent and NOT in tune with my needs.

By day about 135 - I'm stalking my venue coordinator so I can get my final contract and by Day 140 I've just been given up and want to postpone or elope. 

And then it happens.  Everything aligns when you're home for a short weekend in Albuquerque.  The venue coordinator is there, you don't care about alcohol not being served past 11pm and you take a pen and sign that piece of paper - and you get hope again.

So for now I'm taking the week off of all things wedding and basking in the glory of signing a contract that states I will have a wedding.

And I'll see you on May 29th at the Balloon Museum in Albuquerque.

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I want to be trendy.  Most of you will laugh because I spend my days in ripped jeans and stained solid colored shirts. I don't really do my make up all that fancy and my hair can be disastrous (I like when people at work ask "did you oversleep today?")

Anyway, getting highlights was a big deal for me.  And I decided I should continue the trendiness with a couple of dresses that were unmelike but beautiful nonetheless.  One of them is fuschia.  And I say to myself, I WANT TRENDY HEELS.  What does that even mean?  It means that I want something that isnt matchy matchy.  In my mind, I want yellow or green shoes. Maybe gold or even navy shoes.  But I'm deathly afraid of getting all dressed up with my trendy self and someone says "what's up punky brewster".  This is totally illogical right?

this is the obligatory "where in the hell did the summer go" post. 

The truth is, I've had a long, productive summer.  I've actually just been too busy to notice. 

May brought birthday celebrations all around:  First Doug's godson, Brant turned TWO.  Then we celebrated my birthday with pizza and home movies.

June got to see a trip home to Albuquerque, two Counting Crows concerts, a Fathers Day celebration and Doug's birthday.

July was a trip to California, a trip to Minneapolis, and concerts for Matt Nathanson, Counting Crows, Josh Ritter, Brett Dennen and a taste of America's best burger -as voted by Good Morning America.

August has come in with quite the bang.  We learned that Doug's sister, Jamie, is expecting a baby early in March.  I had a bachelorette party, a bridal shower, we have two weddings here in Illinois and cousin Stacey's wedding in Albuquerque, all within the same week.  Not to mention the air and water show, a Cubs game, Craig's first visit to Chicago and possibly a class at Paper Source (yeah that ones exciting)

I think I need a drink...

than all 1000 words would say CUTE!  I have such handsome soontobe nephews!

DSCF7209

if I were to be a superhero (and really, who's to say I'm not already), I've decided that my superpower would be Leechalogic.  Leechalogic?  Things that I justify along the way to make sure I get what I want.

Yesterday, I wanted grease.  I wasn't too picky on what that was.  But a turkey sandwich really wasnt going to cut it.  So I told Doug that since he had been working so hard, we should go to the bar to unwind.  And we ended up at Buffalo Wild Wings (in fact, the best kind of grease around).  I could've had the naked tenders, sure.  But a) the boneless wings were on special and b)  the wings would actually help me lose weight.  You see, in my infinite wisdom on weight loss, I've figured out that 1 bad meal a week will in fact help you lose weight quicker.  Your body has to realize what food is bad to realize that what you're feeding it 27 out of 28 healthy meals.  So I had wings.  And they were delish.  But its a slippery slope.

This morning I got up for work, packed my gym bag, ate a nice balanced breakfast, and even managed to splash some makeup on and look extra nice for work.  I'm pretty consistent about going down to the gym at 11am, but today...Leechalogic kicked in.  I decided i was too pretty to go down to the gym and mess up my make up a mere 4 hours after I put it on.  (and just to preface this, I get ugly sweaty when i work out.  Not like womanly glow, I really look like death strangled me)  So I promised myself I would go down at 5pm.  Somewhere around noon I started waffling, telling myself that it was just an excuse.  So I gave myself a guilt trip (another super power) and went to the gym.  So I guess the good news is that even I can overcome Leechalogic. 

So just a recap three lies I told myself:

1) eating wings make me lose weight faster
2)  im too pretty to work out today
3)  ill do it at 5pm

600 calories burned and Im ready to show off my spandex superhero costume