It's funny because it's true

Saw this preview last night before Bridesmaids. The last part of it (starting at 2:20) had me laughing so hard I was crying. For several minutes.


The Change-Up Trailer by teasertrailer

*For the record, I make K leave the bathroom if I have to really go. I related to this because once we moved to VA together, K had no qualms about doing anything in the bathroom when I was in there. Just wanted to clear the air there.  

I'm still pissed at you, AirTran, but thanks for the motivation

I already posted about the drama that took place once we arrived in Orlando. Believe it or not, the trip started off with even more drama.

K and I were set to fly out just before noon. Friends who were also going to the wedding from NYC left on a flight that morning that stopped in our area on its way. We had booked our flight so we would join them on that layover. We were set to arrive in sunny Orlando around 2 p.m. -- just in time to enjoy the pool.

K and I got to the airport and got checked in an hour before the flight. We picked up Chick-fil-A -- our friends' request, which we were happy to fulfill (there's no CFA in NYC, and we love the food so much that we get pumped for "CFA days"). When we checked in, the airline didn't give us tickets, telling us instead to get them at the gate. Weird, but whatever.

Except when we got to the gate, they told us the flight was overbooked. I know this happens a lot, so I didn't think much of it. Until the gate was empty, save for us and another couple, and the employees didn't seem to have any plans of letting us on that flight. We had some real Meet the Parents moments as the gate attendants spoke on their little loudspeakers even though we were the only ones there and were standing right in front of them.

We began getting nervous, so we started asking questions. Evidently none of us actually selected a seat when we booked our flight. I never do that if there aren't two together. Sometimes you have to pay extra to book a seat, and most times the people at the counter are able to get K and me seats together anyway. If not, well, I really don't care where I sit, so I figured it was no big deal.

Silly me, I had thought that when I clicked "Book Tickets," I was reserving my seat on the flight. Boy, was I wrong.

The other way around the overbooking mess is to check in online -- which, of course, is not free with AirTran -- and we never do that because I think it's ridiculous that online check-in even exists.

Anyway, you can see where this is going. Door closes. Jetway leaves. So does plane. K and I (and other couple) still at airport.

Dis. Like.

(In case you're wondering, the employees were kind enough to deliver the CFA to our friends.)

The four of us left standing were none to happy about it. To appease us, AirTran generously (whatever -- they said it doesn't cost them a thing) gave us each a round-trip ticket to anywhere AirTran flies. They booked us on a flight through Charlotte (our original flight had been direct), where we could attempt standby on two earlier flights before settling for our guaranteed seats on a 10 p.m. flight.*

Defeated, K and I went back home to wait out our layover. We watched Couples Retreat, a movie we'd DVR'd months ago. Despite two weddings and 3.5 years of marriage, K and I have still never been on a honeymoon (we had planned on going back to Destin, where we got married, last September ... but the whole oil spill nixed that trip), and the only trip we've taken by ourselves without meeting other people at our destination was a 36-hour ski trip that I spent sick (I try to time all illnesses with vacations).

When the movie showed the couples arriving at their tropical resort, I immediately teared up. I hadn't realized how badly I've been wanting to go on a nice trip together -- alone.

Only now, we have these nice little tickets to anywhere AirTran flies. The gate attendants told us their priciest flight is to Montego Bay, which can run up to $1200.

Free airfare to Jamaica sounds pretty dang good.

*In case you're wondering, our first standby attempt was successful, so we arrived in Orlando at 8 p.m. ... which is where my first post picks up. A crappy** trip, from start to finish. 
**Badum ching!

A glimpse of the person I don't want to be

A lot of things about my mom bug me enormously. Whenever I feel myself doing anything like her -- using a phrase she likes to use, making a face I've seen her make, adding the types of overexaggerated mockery in stories like she does (even if it does add a little color to the story) -- I am painfully aware of it. Always.

I can see her or hear her doing whatever it is that I've just done or said, and a piece of me shutters inside. Part of me feels disgusted; part of me feels scared.

I don't want to be like my mom. But for some reason, she is exactly who I was acting like this morning.

My alarm went off at 6 a.m. K and I had gone to bed a little before midnight, but a few late nights in a row had caught up to me. I knew we needed to get up and run (we've got a 10K this Saturday, and I haven't run since our 10-miler almost two weeks ago). I knew we needed to vacuum and dust. But K didn't move, even after I asked if he was going to get up. The window was open, so our room was nice and cold, and the bed was nice and cozy, so I stayed put.

At 6:30, I finally dragged myself to the bathroom to put my contacts in. When I came out with my robe on, ready to get started cleaning, K asked, "Are we not running?"

"No!" He must have missed the disgust and frustration I put into that word because he didn't follow it up with the sarcastic response he usually gives (understandably so) at that tone. I headed downstairs to vacuum, and several minutes later he was asking me what I wanted him to do. I was cranky, and I don't even remember how it started, but we both wound up snipping at each other. We were both tired, both wanting to be in bed, both knowing we had needed the run, and both knowing the run wasn't going to happen.

We picked at each other. The picking turned into shouting. At one point, I finally screamed at K. Literally. I knew I was being unreasonable, but I also knew that I just needed him to leave me alone and start vacuuming upstairs. All he seemed to want to do was keep following me and bitching at me.

As we always do, once we'd had time to ourselves to cool off, we were fine. But in that cooling off period, I was thinking about my mom.

The reason we were up vacuuming and dusting the house at 6:30 this morning is because we have two friends coming tonight to stay the weekend with us. One of them has visited many times, but the other has never been to our house. When I was growing up, only the people who had been in our house several times could see it at anything less than its best. I'm afraid that's something I took with me.

All I could think about as I vacuumed and dusted was that if someone comes over to our house, whatever they think is going to be reflected at me. To most people, if a house is badly decorated, it's because the wife is a bad decorator. If it's not decorated, it's because the wife is lazy. If it's dirty, it's because the family is messy and the lady of the house hasn't taken control of it. If there was a clump of black Piper hair at the top of the stairs, it would be because I hadn't vacuumed it.

I was stressing over something so stupid. Especially since both the friends visiting us are guys. The chances that either of them would see any speck of dirt were very slim; the chances they'd care were even slimmer. Not that that mattered to me. I was stuck in a torturous place between rational thought and irrational behavior.

But all the floors got vacuumed, and all the furniture got dusted.The house still isn't spotless, but it's plenty clean for now.

Before he left for work, K and I hugged for a long time and apologized to each other. We're both stubborn, and we can both have our moments of crankiness, so this was a move we've done before. It was good to know that even though we'd started our day screaming at each other, we were at peace with each other before we left for work ...

... Although I can't say I'm at peace with myself. It was only a 30-minute lapse (if that) -- and my cooling-off period was a fraction of the time of my mom's -- but I'm extremely disappointed with myself. I've felt like crying all morning.

When one of your biggest fears is becoming like your mother, lapses like this morning -- no matter how brief -- are scary enough to shake you up for the rest of your day.

After almost 5 years, we finally took a trip together ... alone

The drive to Snowshoe, where K and I went skiing, was about the same amount of time it used to take us to get to each other's apartments when we lived in Dallas and Louisiana. It was the first time either of us had been to West Virginia. It turned out to be a pretty scenic drive, and the closer we got to the mountain, the more ridiculous the road got.

If we lived in this town, I'd totally go to church here!

Such a beautiful view.

K said this is the craziest road he's ever been on. He actually got dizzy driving on the way back. These turns were insane!

Quite a welcome sign ...

Because we procrastinated on making our reservations, we weren't able to find a hotel room until Sunday, so we left Sunday morning. It was early Sunday afternoon by the time we checked in. We hurried to change into our gear and set out for the mountain.

I still had my Keystone run-in in the back of my mind, so I was hesitant to go too fast, and having to anticipate other skiers' movements made me nervous. I felt like it was my first time skiing again.

We got a good 4 hours in on the slopes before calling it a night at about 7:30. We headed straight to a nearby restaurant for dinner, and then we went back to the hotel. We'd planned on hitting up the hot tub, but I felt awful.

I was getting sharp stomach pains in waves. I was actually doing the math, wondering if I was going to wind up on one of those I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant shows (our May wedding WAS 9 months ago!). I had hoped there would be a little romance involved in our first solo trip, so I'd packed a nice little nightie. It never left my suitcase. I actually got up sick a few times during the night.

We got up early the next morning and headed to breakfast. The thought of putting even water into my body made me nervous, but I forced myself to eat a couple bites. We stopped off at the gift shop for some Pepto, and we headed to the slopes for a few more hours before we had to go back home.

It was snowing, and since it wasn't even 10 a.m. (the slopes opened at 9), the mountain was fairly clear. We got to ski on fresh powder! I felt more confident, and my first run was pretty darn fast.

We got quite a few runs in during the 2 hours or so that we skied, and each time I was more confident with weaving around people and anticipating their movements. K was my constant cheerleader. I did pretty well! I didn't fall once, either day!

The blue slopes at Snowshoe looked nicer than the "green" I'd attempted at Keystone. I actually considered trying one out, but K was hesitant to have me attempt that prematurely again. I think if I didn't have the whole Schoolmarm thing on my record, I'd have gone for a blue at Snowshoe (bonus points for rhyming!).

With the snowfall, we had to head out before the roads got bad. We passed so many small towns with huge fields of fresh, untouched snow. K and I were wishing we could stop and just mess it all up. How fun would that be?!

We got home at about dinner time. I still wasn't feeling great. I had slept a good part of the way home, but we were both exhausted. We unpacked and fell asleep just after 8:00.

Now that we're all rested, we're already talking about going back. Next time, though, we'll make a full weekend of it!

The fact this will take place partially on Valentine's Day is a total coincidence

K and I have been lots of places together. We've been to NYC (a couple times) ...

... Boston, New Orleans, and Niagara Falls. Savannah, GA (also a couple times).

Washington, D.C.

Hawaii. Colorado. New Hampshire. Florida (our last trip there was kind of a big deal for us).

And that's not even the entire list.

Over the course of our almost 5-year relationship, we've done lots of traveling for lots of reasons: Weddings. Reunions. Celebrations. Fun getaways.

But all of those trips -- even the weekend trips we've taken in the car -- have been either with other people or to see other people.

In our five years together (after getting married TWICE, mind you), we've

never

taken

a trip

entirely on our own,

just for ourselves.

Tomorrow, we'll do that for the first time!

It's not a big trip. In fact, we haven't even planned it, really. And it wasn't intentional. We just decided to go skiing nearby (after a couple previous failed attempts due to weather), and since it's a 4-day weekend and Valentine's Day, all our friends who are around here are busy or out of town (guess we're the only ones boycotting the holiday).

My first reaction was to keep looking -- to try to find someone to go with us. It's not that I can't handle going somewhere alone with my husband. It's just that, even if it's only for a day and a night, this will be the closest thing we've had to a honeymoon, and I figured that would take place on a beach.

Only this won't be our honeymoon. (Yes, we do intend to have one of those someday.)

Even though it's a quick trip, I'm excited we'll finally be taking it. A trip by ourselves and for ourselves is something we should've done a long time ago.

Who knows? Maybe we'll even start making it a more regular event!

Valentine's, Schmalentine's

I have nothing against Valentine's Day, really. I just don't think it's a very nice holiday.

It's one of those things that always sounds great from the outside. One of those things that only matters on that day. One of those things that matters more if you're unable to celebrate it for whatever reason.

I've always told K that I'd rather have flowers on any other day of the year than February 14. They mean more to me that way, and they're cheaper too. Unfortunately, K never quite got the hint.

So a couple weeks ago, I suggested we boycott Valentine's Day. K was down. See, it's not that we disagree with the principle of the holiday. That couldn't be further from the truth. We just decided we want to celebrate Us on a day that's significant to us. So this Sunday will be exactly that for us: a Sunday.

Instead, on April 1 -- the date that K proposed to me in 2007 -- we'll celebrate [OurLastName] Day.

There may be flowers involved. Card purchases will likely be made. There could be chocolate. There will be gifts.

So in the end, the card companies will get their way; the florists will still get our money (only a lot less of it). But it'll be on the date we chose.

It's our holiday.

I love everything about that.

We interrupt this blog ... (attention: venting language ahead)

I love living in Virginia, but there's one thing that's driving me fucking insane. When we moved here in July, my car tag was about to expire. I called the VA DMV, and they told me I could either keep my TX plates and renew there, or opt to switch my car to VA. I weighed my options, compared prices, and put something up on Facebook about my decision. An Army wife acquaintance saw it and told me I had to switch over to VA, that I didn't have a choice.

I visited the VA DMV's website, and evidently she was right. I made the switch. I brought my initial registration papers from TX to prove that I'd paid $1000 on taxes on my car when I first got it. And that was that.

Or so I thought.

Since then, I've been getting letters from the commonwealth of VA and the whatever-the-hell-they-call-it (city, essentially) that we live in telling me I owe personal property taxes on my car.

I called. Explained that I've already paid them in TX. But evidently that doesn't count. Because VA is a commonwealth. That means VA itself can charge me, AND the city can charge me just for parking my car within its borders.

To avoid all this crap (and having to deal with it every time we move), I can transfer MY car that I bought and I paid for solely into K's name, since he's the servicemember and is exempt from such shit tactics.

Then, in November, the Mil!tary Spouse's Res!dency Rel!ef Act passed. I thought, "How awesome! Now I can keep my car in my name!"

WRONG!

See, for some reason the act only applies to spouses who were born in the same state as the servicemember. How the hell does that make sense? I was born in this country. Aren't we all on the same team?!

And the most frustrating part? In my effort to follow the law, I screwed myself over. See, because now I have my car registered in VA. We had a little gubernatorial election in November too, so I registered to vote here. The November act allows me to have a home of record. Since I've changed so much over to VA, I guess it can't be TX anymore, which means it'll probably have to be VA at least for now.

So that takes me back to having to transfer my car solely to K's name.

I feel like the state (grr!) commonwealth of VA is stealing my car and giving it to my husband. K doesn't understand why I'm so frustrated by the whole thing. He says it's just a piece of paper.

But the trouble is, it's a legal document. Just like a marriage license, or a will.

It's my car. I bought it. Why can't my name be on the title? (And if my home of record stays VA, then I'll NEVER be able to have my name on the car title. To avoid being taxed out the @$$, it has to be solely in the servicemember's name.)

I was expressing my frustration tonight while I was trying to vacuum our living room rug and our couch. I had just moved a TV tray out of the way, which had resting on it K's fancy laptop and our ridiculous TV remote that has a touch screen and connects to the effing computer.

I struggled with the fancy vacuum and its eleventy billion attachments (K put it together while I was unpacking our kitchen, so I missed out on the, "THIS is how it works!" that comes along with putting it together). K cringed and kept telling me to wait when I was doing so much as picking the vacuum up. (Seriously, not even exaggerating. I wasn't slamming it, I wasn't jamming anything. Nothing.)

I'm so frustrated right now. I love the area where we live, and I'm so glad to be living with K now.

But part of me misses the simplicity of living with my shitty $60 Hoover (that wasn't that shitty, really) and the TV remote that I could carelessly toss across the room because it came with my shitty TV and could be replaced if needed, and in an actual state that wasn't trying to tax me for something that I'd ALREADY paid taxes on when I bought it FIVE FUCKING YEARS AGO.

So I've realized I attribute a good amount of my self-worth to work

In late December, I was so happy to see my temp job come to an end. January was pretty hectic for us, so the whole job thing went on the back burner.

Now, we're home and things are normal again. After the way my last job turned out, I'm not in a hurry to just land somewhere anymore. We're very fortunate that K is in the military, so he has no worries about job security, and he can support us both if needed. However, that's not the plan I'm ready to settle on.

Until we moved here, I'd had a job since I was 13. I'm used to working. I'm not opposed to taking a retail job at the mall or even a grocery store, but at the same time, I don't want to lose evenings and weekends with K. And I certainly don't miss having a job where everyone else came in hung over or high all the time. More professional jobs are less tolerant of that behavior, and I'd be more likely to get to keep my nights and weekends.

I have great experience on my resume. The trouble is, this area just doesn't need as many editors as a city like Dallas did. There are other things I qualify for, but many of the postings I've found are looking for someone with 10-12 years of experience. I was a senior in high school 10 years ago.

If I had accepted the fact that I don't have a job and that this might become a more permanent situation, I'd go out looking for volunteer work. I love volunteer work, and it would be a nice, fulfilling way to spend my time. Only I'm not ready to give up on finding a job.

K and I had a talk about this the other night. It was actually kind of an argument, and it's one I'm sure many military families have had.

It started out about something completely different. I had just gotten back from the grocery store, and within a couple hours, I had found two things I'd have to go back for the next day. Both were things K had used up and not added to the list.

When he got home, I said to K, "I guess I messed up in telling you I like our grocery store. It's nice, but I don't want to see it every day." I asked him to do a better job about putting things on the grocery list. I said it calmly, but I intentionally made it more of a discussion than a simple statement because I wanted to get my point across so that he wouldn't forget anymore (it's not the first time this has happened).

K got frustrated. "No offense, but it's not like you have that much else going on," he said.

It was true, and it sucked. It's not like I'm staying home to take care of our child. That would be completely different. And yes, we do have a dog, but puh-lease. She can stay home for 9 or 10 hours on her own. She doesn't need me to take care of her all day.

While I stay home, I take care of things around the house. I clean. I do yard work. I do the laundry and fold it all. I run errands. I dust, I sweep, I clean toilets, I change sheets. I try to do everything so when K is home, we don't have anything to worry about and can relax. I look at taking care of those things as my job. Sometimes I get frustrated about all I do, but it's my contribution. (A contribution I've put on myself -- it wasn't K's idea.)

But still, his comment stung. After about 20 minutes of the silent treatment, he couldn't understand why I was upset. He told me he could go get bread himself.

I reminded him of his comment about my day. I told him it wasn't a fair thing to say. "Six months ago, I had a job. I was making my own money. And then we moved across the country to this smaller town that doesn't need editors," I said.

"Do you know how it feels to go home and have people ask what you're doing? To have to tell them that you have a college degree and no job?"

K shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Well, it sucks. Big time." I was about to start crying, so I stopped talking.

K told me he'd rather me not work at all than wind up jumping at some crappy job again just to do something. A couple minutes later, we had finished talking about it, and I was feeling better.

Thank goodness, the last couple weeks the company I worked with in Dallas has asked me to do a bit of contract work. It hasn't been every day, and it hasn't necessarily been a lot of work, but they've asked for my help again next week.

I'm still hopeful I'll find something more steady. Until that happens, I'll keep my fingers crossed that this contract work continues. It's nice to be earning a paycheck again.

The kind of experience that comes around once every 23 years

Well, we didn't make it to the ski slopes today. The roads were a bit treacherous, so we stayed home.

Remember what our back yard looked like a week ago? This is how it looked when we woke up yesterday:

I was so excited when I looked out the window! K and I gobbled down breakfast, then headed outside to play in the snow with Piper.

She's quite the snow bunny! What's funny is that she hates rain and will absolutely avoid going outside if it's raining. Snow, however? She loves it! K and I took turns taking video of her frolicking around in it. She's such a dork.

Obviously she's not frolicking here; she's sitting. The frolicking was on video, though, remember?

K and I made snow angels (mine's on the right),

and then K tried to help Piper make one.

(Turns out she sucks at them.)

We decided to venture out to see how things looked beyond our neighborhood. With K's SUV, we knew we would be OK in the snow, so off we went! The highways were covered in snow. Other than that, they were empty.

That exit sign really had writing on it. I just blurred it out so the stalkers can't find us. Not that it was our exit, and not that I have stalkers -- that I know of. You can never be too safe!

We headed to our favorite beach because I wanted to see what it looked like covered in snow. First, though, I'll share a couple pictures of how it looks not covered in snow.

I took these pictures Jan. 5. This is actually my favorite place in all of Virginia. It's a private beach on the post where K works. On nice days, we love to have lunch on this bench.

This is what "our" beach looked like yesterday:

The wind created a cool mix of sand and snow on the sidewalk.

When we got back home, I made us some snow ice cream. My friend Danielle mentioned that she had done that when OK got hit with a ridiculous blizzard at Christmastime. Evidently her family had always done that when it snowed enough. I thought I'd give it a shot.

I found a recipe online that involved a gallon of snow, 2 cups of milk (or more, if needed), a cup of sugar, and a tablespoon of vanilla.

The website had said that snow ice cream isn't about making creamy, gourmet ice cream; it's about the experience of making it. Still, I thought it was pretty dang good! For extra awesomeness, I added chocolate syrup to mine.

K, on the other hand, took one bite and made a face. He asked if I'd be offended if he didn't eat it. I guess I'll just have to hold my hopes of making that a fun tradition for another 15 years or so when we have kids. Oh, well ...

By the end of the day, we were surprised at the amount of snow that had fallen:

Since we're so close to the coast, it's rare for weather like this here. In fact, according to our local weatherman, snowfall like this hits every 23 years. It had been 21 years, so it was only a little early.

It makes me feel lucky we got to experience it! Definitely made for a pretty cool Saturday!

Merry Christmas!

Go figure: I've spent every Christmas of my life until this year in Oklahoma. I've never seen a white Christmas.

This year, I'm in Pennsylvania with K and his family. There's snow on the ground, but it's all left over from last weekend.

And Oklahoma gets a ridiculous blizzard. My hometown got 10 inches of snow.

My family actually had to postpone Christmas until Sunday, since the weather was so bad. All the highways in OK were actually shut down yesterday evening, so my uncle was stuck in Kansas, and my aunt & uncle & cousins couldn't make the hour-and-a-half drive to my hometown to be with my dad, brother & grandparents.

I think it might make it a little easier on me that my family Christmas isn't taking place today. So while I'm spending time with my new family, I won't be missing out on my family's Christmas (well, I will, but it just won't happen today).

It also proves that Christmas really is just another day on the calendar. True, it's a very important date as far as religion goes, but what most of us look forward to most is celebrating the joy of the season with our families. When I go to Oklahoma in January, most of my family who will gather this Sunday will be able to join me then. There won't be a Christmas tree, prime rib (which became our preferred Christmas meal after my dad, mom, brother, grandparents & I couldn't take the thought of looking at another turkey or ham after all the ones we saw at my dad's store), or Christmas movies on TV, but the part that counts most -- my family members -- will be.

So today, I'll be counting my blessings. My family members are healthy and happy. My friends are well. My husband is home.

And although it may not be fresh snow, I've technically got myself my first white Christmas!

A less fun first

Although K and I have been together for 4 Christmases, we've never spent Christmas Day together. K was in Pennsylvania for the first two and Iraq for the last two. Naturally, since it's been a while, K will be spending Christmas with his family ... and so will I.

This will be my first Christmas away from my family. I've known it would be this way for several months, but it's really started hitting me lately. I've felt myself becoming more and more anxious, and I'm dreading leaving for PA.

Today is my last day of work (yay, I'm done here!). When I get off, I have to rush home to finish packing, and we'll head north. It'll be a long drive, surely full of lots of traffic, and I'm not looking forward to any of it.

As I started thinking about all of it this morning -- particularly about being away from my family for the holiday -- I actually started crying. At work.

I didn't realize it would hit me like this. I've already warned K and asked him to be patient with me. With PMS, my first Christmas away from home, and spending several days with K's dad (which always leaves both K and me ready to rip our hair out) all coming at the same time, it could be an emotional week for me.

I just have to keep remembering the important things: I'm blessed. I'm with K. It's Christmastime.

And I will get to see my family in two weeks.

Our first Christmas tree!

On Sunday afternoon, K and I went got a start on decorating for Christmas. We visited a cute little Christmas store, where we bought quite a few nice ornaments, and then we headed to a tree farm to cut down our tree!

I've never had a real tree before. My dad is allergic, so it was never an option. K really wanted a real one, and I was excited to find a tree farm fairly close to us.

The tree farm was a quaint family-owned place. Since neither of us knew which type of tree we wanted, the workers were able to give us a few tips before they sent us out to survey the selection. They told us that people come out as early as the weekend after Halloween to begin staking their claims on trees! Some people had interesting ways of showing a tree was taken.

We couldn't believe how big some of the trees were!

I don't know if a lot of the average-sized trees were already taken, but it seemed that the trees were either 8 ft tall or 3 ft tall. I was glad we have tall ceilings in our living room! I had read an article that recommended buying a tree that's 6" to 12" from your ceiling. An 8-footer wouldn't quite be that height, but I figured it would be sufficient.

We found a tree that we were pleased with. It was a Leyland cypress, nice and full. There was one random stray branch on the side, but we could easily put that part at the back. The tree's height was good, and the top of it was really pretty. We found an employee who could cut the tree down for us. After he stood up from cutting down our tree, he bent over to pick up his saw from the ground ... and farted! I actually thought to myself, "It's a sign we found the right tree." (Hey, remember one of the biggest surprises I had once I got to live with K?)

When we got the tree home and inside the house, we were very glad that we hadn't gotten a tree any taller. I guess the stand (which isn't tall) added more than we'd bargained for. Thank goodness our neighbors had some good clippers! We trimmed the top of the tree and shaped it to hide our little alteration.

We put on Elf as we decorated the tree. As the movie was finishing up, so were we. K made us a couple mugs of hot chocolate, which we enjoyed during the final scenes of the movie. When we turned off the TV, we snuggled on the couch and surveyed our work on the tree with fresh eyes. We were pretty pleased with ourselves. K actually got a little teary-eyed, since after 4.5 years of being together, we were finally able to decorate our tree together. This will also be the first time we've been together for Christmas.

This is the most gorgeous tree I've ever had. I love that many of the ornaments are meaningful to us in some way, and I love that a lot of the decorations are new things we picked out last weekend. But the things about it I love most is that we chose it and decorated it together.

I definitely called my family 9 billion times while preparing this meal

The night before Thanksgiving, I did not sleep well at all. I was so worried about everything I had to make, none of which I'd made before. I tossed and turned, and I had the weirdest dreams. In fact, one was so weird that it made me forget all the others: I actually dreamed that a starfish somehow found its way from the ocean, through the water lines, into our refrigerator ... and into the pecan pie sitting inside. (I didn't even make the pie -- I bought it!) So in the dream, when I pulled the pie out of the refrigerator and carried it to the table for our friends, I was horrified to find a starfish writhing around in the pie, with a couple of its arms sticking out of the top. (I told you it was a crazy dream!)

Thank goodness, I was worried for nothing. I made a few rookie mistakes, but nothing that affected the flavor. And they're all mistakes I'm sure K and I will laugh about when we recall our first Thanksgiving playing hosts:

1) The pumpkin roll that we accidentally rolled the wrong way (we made it short & wide rather than long & thin).

2) Having to turn my family's traditional sweet potato balls into a sweet potato casserole, since I forgot to drain the yams before mixing the other ingredients. (It's very difficult to make a solid ball with a liquid.)

3) The stress of making the dressing. My mom's "recipe" had only a list of ingredients (cornbread, sage, broth from giblets, salt, etc.), but no specific amounts. "Season to taste" doesn't help a new cook very much! The dressing wound up being everyone's favorite part, and it tasted just like my mom's, so I was relieved!

We made our cranberry sauce the night before Thanksgiving. It looked beautiful as it cooked, and it made the house smell amazing. Thanksgiving Day, we were pleased to find it was just as delicious as it looked and smelled! I'll definitely be making this again (although it was a TON for four people).

K did an awesome job frying (and preparing) the turkey. It was delicious!

Piper was eager to help clean up any turkey K accidentally dropped.

We wound up with a lot of food for four people (we had planned on my brother being here as well, but he didn't come in until Friday), but it was delicious! Since it was our first attempt, I cheated on a few more things than I'd have liked (gravy from a jar, store-bought pie), but we took on a lot for first-timers! Considering we cooked fresh green beans and used fresh cranberries for the sauce, I'd say we did well. K told me several times how proud of me he was, and how I should be proud of myself for doing such a great job.

(I can't believe I forgot to get a picture once the turkey was on the table -- wait, yes I can! Everything smelled delicious, and I was starving! Trust me, the table was packed.)

I'd say Thanksgiving was a success!

I'll spend enough time in the kitchen NEXT week!

K is gone again. We didn't know about this trip until this morning.

Originally, he was supposed to go to Colorado this week for a conference. Then, a big Nor'easter hit last week, and a lot of the military bases in this area got closed both Thursday and Friday thanks to all the flooding. (Actually, a lot of EVERYTHING was closed Thursday and Friday.) The Colorado trip got cancelled, since there was no time to plan everything and get it approved.

K and I had talked about going to PA over the weekend since one of his friends would be in town. Once K was off Friday & I wasn't -- and since he was no longer supposed to be gone this week -- I told K to leave early and make it a guys' weekend. (Plus, it got me out of 14 hours in the car!)

And then this morning K's boss told him the trip is back on. Awesome. I told K to tell the boss he's on my shit list. (K had already told him.)

Now, I've got the night to myself, and it's crazy how much more time it feels like I have when it's just me. It's about the time K and I would usually reluctantly get up to get ready for the gym. What's funny is it always feels like no time at all since dinner, but tonight, I could've left 40 minutes ago. I've been lazy and trying to think of an excuse to not go.

I may have found it. I'm watching the Food Network and getting ideas for Thanksgiving dinner. We're staying at our house for the holidays this year. My brother will probably drive up, and K's work friend and his wife might be joining us if they don't head home for the holidays.

I've never cooked turkey, and I've never cooked real stuffing. This is going to be a big deal for me! Giada De Laurentiis just told us to not try any new recipes at the holidays, since you don't want that additional stress and have to worry about feeding it to your friends and family. Ha! Like I'm gonna be trying any of this crap on my own this week! If K's not here, I'm not cooking!