Not much laboring going on here

We had an awesome, but exhausting Labor Day weekend! Thursday night, our friend Sully drove down from Boston. K had Friday off, so the three of us relaxed on the beach. On Friday night, our friends Jay & Ry flew in from NY.

Jay, Ry and Sully are all friends K made while stationed in Louisiana, so it was great to have a little reunion. We spent the evening relaxing and having drinks on our back porch. Ry, who is a more regular wine drinker than I am, poured for the evening, which means while everyone else was sleeping, I was seeing my wine again in the bathroom. Yikes.

Saturday, the plan was to go to Busch Gardens. Everyone else felt great, so off we went.

I love being in control, so roller coasters scare the bejesus out of me. Since I was still feeling a bit shaky, I sat the first roller coaster out. I was grateful to have a solid excuse to skip out on this dropoff (It's 90 degrees at 75 mph)!

Obviously my friends weren't worried (or hungover) as they waited in line for the coaster.

After they finished their ride (They loved it, but they said it was scary. They also said I'd definitely have thrown up again if I'd ridden it!), we all got lunch. I felt much better, so I joined in on the rides. We had a good time walking around the park, and we finished with a nice splash ride. (You can see we're all soaked in the picture as we were leaving.)

That night, we grilled out at our house and watched the Sooner football game. And that's all I have to say about that. (OK, OK. Yes, we lost. Yes, it sucked.)

Sunday, we all slept in (theme parks are exhausting!), then headed to Virginia Beach for the afternoon. We had dinner at a great restaurant on the beach. They had amazing drinks they called Orange Crushes. With the amount of alcohol in each one (and the amount of fresh orange), they were very appropriately named!

The food was also delicious! For an appetizer, we ordered calamari, which was served with some kind of BBQ sauce (turned out to be a great combo!), and buffalo-style fish bites. For dinner, K and I both got crabcake sandwiches. Jay got fish tacos, and Ry's pasta looked amazing too. It was all delicious!

After dinner, we went back down to the beach for a Black Crowes concert.

We had brought my OU quilt to sit on before the show. We managed to get pretty decent spots (in proximity to the stage AND a beer tent), so we had lots of people walking by trying to sneak in on spots around us. I just started having fun with it by doing silly faux karate/yoga/whoknowswhat poses to block people from our blanket. Obviously our blanket still got trampled on the sides, but I kept people from walking on our things in the middle. And it gave us all a good laugh.

The concert ended without a performance of "She Talks to Angels" or "Hard to Handle," which was disappointing. There wasn't even an encore!

Thanks to the city of Virginia Beach, though, our night ended with some a nice fireworks show.

Mars/Venus: Thank You cards

It's been a busy few months for us. We had our "real" wedding Memorial Day weekend. Immediately after it was over, we packed my apartment, moved almost everything to Louisiana, packed up K's apartment, sent it with the Army-contracted movers, I quit my job, and we set out to see my family in OK for a couple days, then drove out to Virginia to start our lives here. That all happened in barely over a month.

We looked at houses, signed a contract for our house, returned to Dallas for a ER's wedding, came back just long enough to have our furniture and household goods delivered, and then departed for 9 fabulous days with the in-laws. We meant to take our thank you cards with us, but a quick decision to use K's computer bag instead of mine meant the cards stayed in Virginia. Whoops.

We had little time to catch our breath after the PA trip was over. We had lots of unpacking to do, we had several visitors, and we were trying to get settled.

Last month, I looked over the list of gifts, and I got out a large portion of our thank you cards. The ones I left were cards K said he would write. (We figured his uncle in Florida who I'd never met might appreciate a card written by K more than one from me.) So I wrote a few dozen cards. I made K sign each one, and he wrote the return address on a lot of them. He bitched about the fact they weren't already done, but it was better late than never.

I went through the remaining names and starred which ones would get the feminine version of the cards I'd designed. His close guy friends could have the masculine version. I left everything stacked neatly for him in the living room, until last weekend, when I finally moved them to the office so our guests wouldn't have to stare at them all weekend.

And today? We get an email from his aunt about how one of their older relatives (she wouldnt' say who) had said she was worried the gift wasn't appreciated because she hadn't received a thank you card yet. She actually was worried that her gift wasn't enough.

I can understand her having that reaction. I hate that she feels that way. And I hate that K hasn't written his damn cards yet. I knew I should've done it myself.

I called him immediately and read the email. He's as disgusted with himself as I am. You can bet those cards will be in the mail tomorrow.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a dining room!

I'm so sorry to have left you with Miley Cyrus's face for so long. That wasn't what I'd intended, but it's been busy lately! We had a few friends come in for the holiday weekend, so I spent last week getting things ready for their arrival. Every time we have guests come, the house is a little more finished than it was before.

This time, we actually had a dining room table! K and I ordered our table and bedroom furniture way back on July 6. The store was having a special, complete with free delivery. Evidently our bedroom set was on backorder and was set to arrive in mid-August. Since it still wasn't in stock, we didn't get our table either. We finally called and complained, and voila! Our table was here a few days later. Finally!

It happened to arrive the day after K and I bought a new grill, so we celebrated both with a nice steak dinner.

We found a nice rug to go underneath the table. Now, all we need is to finally get rid of my bachelorette couch, since I ixnayed K's stadium seating idea. (Supposedly a buyer is coming to pick it up soon.)

I made our cute little chandelier shades when I had trouble finding any dark blue ones online. I also had this sign custom made on etsy.com. It's a piece of advice an old boss gave me that I thought was worth a daily reminder.

I'd really like to paint this room yellow. I think it would be nice if we could do some sort of paint treatment so it's not just INYOURFACEYELLOW. We'll see. I also want to find a china cabinet eventually, so I'll probably check out Craigslist every now and then. After that, this room will be complete!

I finally figured it out!

Miley Cyrus has always reminded me of something/someone. It bugged me, but I could never figure it out ...

... until today, when I saw her on Rachael Ray. Then, I was finally able to put my finger on it:

Isn't that just my luck!

I stepped into the garage just as K was pulling into the driveway for lunch yesterday. I handed him a card that had a picture of a mug of beer with candles in it. The inside said, "To heck with cake and ice cream!" I had written, "NOW do you remember what you told me you wanted?"

He still had no idea what I was talking about. (I resisted the temptation to say he'd forgotten because of his ripe old age of 31.) I opened the back of his Tahoe to reveal the keg and the bottom of the box the kegerator was still in. He was definitely surprised!

We carried the kegerator and the keg inside and hurried to get the keg inside. It had been out of the refrigerator for about 2 hours by that point. I had put a couple bags of ice around it in an effort to keep it cold, and I'd been in the car with the a/c on for a large part of the 2 hours.

After K headed back to work, I started calling around to try to get the CO2 tank filled so we could actually use the kegerator. That wound up being a harder task than I'd expected. The only place I found that could fill a 5 lb. CO2 tank was out of CO2. They should have more today or tomorrow, so I'll try again. But after all that, I could've just waited on the keg. Go figure.

I just hope once we do get the CO2 tank filled, the beer isn't sour because it wound up getting too warm before we got it in the kegerator!

The gift of beer

Today is K's birthday. His 31st birthday.

He told me a couple months ago that he'd like a kegerator for his birthday. So a little over a month ago, I started doing research on them. I talked to his friends who know about them. And I ordered one. It's here. Right now. In the garage.

I don't really know much about kegerators. I know being a PA boy, K loves his Yuengling. I called around at a few places this morning to find a half-barrel keg of Yuengling, and it wound up being harder to find than I thought. I found a wine store with one left. So at 9:54, I found myself standing outside it, waiting for the employees to open the doors at 10. Three other people were waiting with me. Interesting ...

I bought the keg, and I headed to pick up the kegerator. The keg weighs 180 lbs. The kegerator weighs 150. I definitely can't haul them inside myself! It's almost 90 degrees outside, which means the keg can't stay in the car in the garage for long, so I called K and asked him to come home for lunch a little earlier.

He should be here in about 10 or 15 minutes. I'm getting anxious. Why didn't I buy a 1/4-barrel keg? That would've been so much smarter. Or if I'd waited. Why didn't I wait? What if the beer is skunky by the time we get it in the kegerator?

Why do fun surprises always wind up making me so anxious?!

I should make this, patent it, and sell it

I turned to K. "You know what I really, really want to do?"

"What?"

"I want to make a big stencil of the interlocking OU. I want to make it weighted, but it has to be thin. Then, I'd put it in the middle of the yard, and I'd mow, so all the grass would be cut except what's under the stencil. I'd pick up the stencil, and then I'd mow that part of the grass sideways ..."

(I raised my arms over my head in excitement.)

"... AND WE'D HAVE AN INTERLOCKING OU IN OUR YARD!!!!"

K was speechless. Obviously due to the pure awesomeness of my genius idea.

I need a crystal ball to tell me what to do!

I started college as an instrumental music education major. My plan was to become a junior high band director. Soon into my classes, I became anxious about my choice. It didn't feel right.

After my freshman year, I finally got the nerve to change my major. It was a scary thing to do. What if I hated my new major? What if I sucked at it?

I switched to journalism. I loved it. I was going to be a TV reporter. I had some questions about it, so I interned at a TV news station. I loved it. There were things about the job -- the awful pay, the crazy hours, the scary and sad things you see on reports -- that I was unsure about. I spent a fair amount of my senior year talking to my TV news professor about them. She had actually been a TV reporter. She was honest, and she told me everything I was worried about was valid.

So after I graduated, I applied for a variety of jobs: TV news, newspaper, editing. I got an interview for an editing job.

Editing was something I always had enjoyed. It was part of my ultimate career plan. I was just bypassing the TV reporting part (which was only 5 years of my career plan, anyway).

I landed the editing job. Moved to Dallas. A year and a half later, I left my first editing job for a more exciting, more fitting, better paying editing job. I left there two months ago to come to VA with K.

I worked remotely with my Dallas company a few times. There is an opportunity for more work soon, but I haven't heard anything. It's been hectic lately, what with us getting settled and moved in, not to mention the visitors we've had the past couple weeks.

But I can't keep NOT working and stay sane. I have to find a job.

I'm tired of editing. Tired of not having control over my workflow. Tired of having to sacrifice my work because a writer hasn't delivered on his or her end of the deadline. I'm ready for a change. Something rewarding would be nice (the type of editing I did was not rewarding).

This move gives me the perfect opportunity to do something new. But now I feel exactly as I did my freshman year. What do I do?

There are things that interest me, and I think they'd all be rewarding jobs:

1) Photography. I love photography. I would be excited to learn about it. I always have my camera with me, and I love recording things.

Things to consider: I could have to sacrifice my weekends, which I'm not ready to do right now. Also, it seems like everyone and their dog is getting into photography right now ...

2) Personal training. I think it would be really neat to be able to help people get in shape. It would be doubly awesome because I'd know more about staying in shape myself.

Things to consider: I have no business doing anything like this yet -- so much to learn first! Would I even be able to learn enough without having to go get a degree in this field?

3) Esthetician. This would be such a relaxing job! It would be great to learn more about skincare, and this would definitely be a rewarding job.

Things to consider: Will I be able to move easily with this career? Definitely something to consider, since K is in the military.

4) (Honorable mention) Speech pathologist. For some reason, I have an ear for speech impediments. I hear them quite a bit in commercials. Also, when I was little, my brother had trouble saying quite a few letters. I taught him how to speak correctly. There are a variety of options with speech pathology, and every one of them would be very rewarding.

Things to consider: I'd have to go back to school to get my master's degree for this, and I'd be on the three-year program since I have no undergraduate experience in this field.

No matter what I choose, I'll have quite a bit of learning to do. Photography and personal training are both things I would want to independently. Both are things I think people consider luxuries, so I think it would be nice to offer both at more reasonable prices. I would be able to move with either easily, and the Army would make it easier for me to find and meet people who could become potential clients.

So much to think about ... and they all scare me a little bit. Yikes!

K outdoes himself again!

Yesterday morning, as he does every day now that we live in the same place, K leaned over the bed to kiss me goodbye before he left for work. He asked if I was coming downstairs. I said I hadn't planned on it (I never do before he leaves). "Oh, I just thought maybe you would," he said.

So I got up and followed him down to the kitchen, where he had a package waiting for me on the table (he thought I'd get a kick out of the wrapping paper).

When I opened it, I was excited to see that he had gotten me something I've been wanting for a VERY long time: a digital SLR camera!

I had really wanted a Nikon D50, D60, D80 ... any one of the above. Several bloggers I read own them and LOVE them, and the pictures they post are always amazing. Then, when K and I went to visit Kris and her husband for the 4th of July, she was talking about the Canon Rebel. K has evidently been doing a lot of research, and they both seem like great cameras. He chose the Canon Rebel XSI.

I can't wait to use it, but I always like to read the manual first with new phones or cameras so I can see what they're really capable of. It'll be so fun to figure it all out!

26 + 1 day

K kissed me before he left for work this morning. "My sexy old lady," he said.

It was the second time in a few minutes he had called me old (never mind the fact he'll be 31 in 8 days). "Dude, stop calling me old," I said. "Don't you remember my goal?"

One of my big pet peeves is hearing people -- especially people in their 20s -- refer to themselves as old. I think if you keep calling yourself old, you'll feel old, and then you'll really be old. The whole "we don't stop playing because we grow old" thing. So I've decided to never call myself old. Ever.

"You can't ever call me old again. Even when I'm 80."

"Mature?" K asked. "Experienced?" I thought for a moment. Then, he said as though he was quoting something, "She was very flexible for an 80-year-old."

"You can call me flexible! I like flexible."

K laughed. "And young at heart," I continued. "And young looking."

26

I have an adorable, well-behaved dog.

I am extremely blessed with wonderful friends (even if they are a bit farther from me now).

I have a wonderful husband who loves me more than I could have ever imagined.

We live in a house that we love.

My family and friends are in good health.

I am excited for what this new life in Virginia has in store.

I am healthy, I am loved, I am happy.

I am blessed.

Twenty-six is off to a pretty good start!

(OK, knock on wood. Because I'm slightly superstitious, but only because it's better safe than sorry.) :)

We hung out with friends!! In Virginia!!

The last few days have been pretty hectic. I have been doing contract work the last couple weeks with the company I worked for in Dallas. Things slowed down there in the office, so they were able to cover things for themselves at the end of the week. That left me free to get a lot done in the house!

I got our office (that's what we call our small 3rd bedroom) taped and ready to paint, so and I did that Thursday night. The room had been a bright blue, but it was a bit scuffed, and there were a lot of holes in the wall. We chose a different blue to repaint it -- slightly darker, and with a little more of a turquoise shade than the crayon blue that the room was. I LOVE the color now! It looks great! Plus, that room is our Army/OU room, so the blue really looks good with all the shades of red in K's Army stuff and my OU memorabilia.

Friday, I was able to organize the office a little more (although there's still a long way to go). It's been our place to stash random stuff as we've been getting settled. I finally got the nerve to start putting holes in the walls, so I hung pictures in the living room and in the hallways. It looks like people live here now!

I was able to scrub the bathrooms and get things set up in our guest bedroom. Saturday morning, we had visitors arrive! Some friends of ours from Louisiana got sent to VA for training, and they live just a little over an hour away. After they arrived, we went to post and showed them around, and then we headed to watch some boat races.

We went for drinks and then for dinner at Cheeseburger in Paradise. When I ordered my drink, I asked the waiter which had the most pineapple. He wasn't sure, so I did research myself. Since it was clear I'm a huge fan of pineapple, he made sure to show me some love.

When he saw how excited I got over Willy Wedge (evidently this cute fellow has a name), he brought me a couple other friends!

After all that, our friends told him it was my birthday weekend. At Cheeseburger in Paradise, that gets you ice cream WITH sprinkles and a cheerful song! Score! (This is my reenacting blowing out the candle, since K missed it with the camera.)

Today, we went to the beach and relaxed for a bit, then had lunch and browsed around the shops.

It was a nice, relaxing day. It was good to have some time with friends, since K (and our retired neighbors) are the only people I know here. What's funny is that after just two days of visitors, it was nice to have it be just the two of us again. Funny how quickly you can get used to that. :)

Tomorrow is my birthday. It'll be the 5th birthday I've had since I met K, but it will be the first we've spent together. The first year, he was in the field training. The second year, he got sent to Afghanistan, only to be stuck in Baltimore for TWO 24-hour layovers, which put him departing the U.S. for his deployment on my actual birthday (awesome). The third year, he was in the field training ... again. Last year, he was in Iraq.

Needless to say, it'll be awesome to finally celebrate my birthday with my favorite person on the planet.

Oh. My. Gosh

Facebook just suggested a new friend to me: my mother.

The house, the beach, and other crap

We've spent a lot of the last week trying to get more settled in the house. I've finally gotten the nerve to put holes in the walls and hang things. It's just hard to figure out what to put where!

We filled in a couple areas with some awesome furniture fines on Craigslist, and we've even gotten rid of a few things we didn't have room for here the same way.

We were nice and productive on Saturday. I got up early and headed to the DMV to switch my car registration over to VA. That was a nice, frustrating process, but it's done. Whew!

That afternoon, we headed to Lowe's for the umpteen billionth time since we moved in. We picked out some flowers to fill in a few areas of our back yard.

On our way to the garden area, we passed all the toilet seats. K and I thought this one was so funny that I couldn't resist taking a picture.

"You know what I'd do if one of my buddies had that toilet seat?" K asked.

"Take a shit, put the seat down and not flush," I said. He laughed. I know my husband so well -- but then again, males are pretty predictable when it comes to that crap (badum ching!).

It rained Saturday night, so we scratched our gardening plans. Instead, we ate pizza and watched the movie Taken. It was intense, but a good movie.

Sunday, we slept in and then headed to the beach. We chose to mix things up and go to a beach our neighbors had told us about. It's much less touristy than VA Beach -- and it's way closer! The other beach we really like is in the bay, so it was nice to have another option that's actually an ocean beach. We'll definitely go back to it.

It has a cute little lighthouse on the shore. It's totally just for decoration, but I liked it. I love lighthouses and can't wait to check out some legitimate ones over our two years here. For now, this one will do.

Mars/Venus: Decorating

Before you start worrying that my husband has turned into a total chick since we started sharing a house, I had to share these stories and photos so there are no doubts that his testosterone levels are just fine.

I'll start by showing you a Before picture of our living room. Isn't it pretty?

Trouble is (though you can't quite tell it from this picture), it's pretty long and thin. We entered this house with two couches: my khaki micro-suede couch, and the green micro-suede sectional (and ottoman!) that K bought from Heather and B after they moved into their new house.

My couch wouldn't be enough seating for the room, meaning we'd have to buy something(s) to go along with it (another couch? a loveseat? armchairs?). But the sectional might be too overwhelming for such a narrow space.

What to do, what to do ...

K really wanted to hang on to the sectional, so we put it in the living room in the best position we could find for the space. I don't know that any designers would be in love with what we've done, but it works for us. It's functional, and there's plenty of nice, comfy seating. It was the best solution we could find to utilize the back door and avoid blocking the (ginormous) TV or fireplace.

As you look at these pictures, please keep in mind that we are SO still unpacking! The items on the mantle are just there so they don't get broken or chipped before we find a better place for them. The second photo here gives you the best idea of how the room looks from the front door, but it doesn't tell you how wide the room is(n't). The third photo accomplishes that a little too well. I promise it's not a tight squeeze to get around the couch, even though that photo makes it look like it is.

The tables behind the couch are going away, too. I plan on making a nice seating area on that side of the couch with a small armchair or rocking chair, along with a nice little table. That way, you're not entering our home to see the back of the couch.

The other decorations we will bring into the room (including a painting we can't hang until we find the perfect cabinet for it to hang above) will be bright and colorful to (hopefully) make up for the neutral walls and couch color. I promise also, though, that it doesn't look as dreadfully neutral in person as it does in these photos.

And last but not least, no, we did NOT do that faux marble treatment to the fireplace. We would love more than anything to paint over it (as well as the faux marble treatment on the entry door frame), but it's actually in our lease that we can't. That's right, the owners of the home actually paid someone to do that. (I KNOW!!!)

OK, now that I've given you all the disclaimers, you can look at the photos.

That left us with my khaki couch, which K didn't want to get rid of. We decided to put it in our 3rd bedroom, which we're using as an office. Only we couldn't get it inside -- it's too wide for the doorframe, even after the movers removed the door itself. (Boo!)

I told K we'd just have to sell the couch. For some reason, K really hated that idea. I explained to him that we had nowhere for it downstairs. It wouldn't fit through any doors upstairs. "The only way we can keep it is if we store it in the garage, covered." Of course, K didn't want that either.

"How about this?" he said to me, pausing before hitting me with what he was sure would be the solution to all our problems. "Stadium seating." I waited for him to start laughing, but instead, he started trying to show me how we could put the khaki couch directly behind the sectional.

I really almost started crying immediately.

Wow.

And then there are the two bedrooms -- the master and the guest room. Both of them are good-sized rooms. This means we have a few options for the placement of the beds.

For our bedroom, I was trying to decide which placement would offer the best utilization of space. Which would make it feel less cramped?

(My fabulous rendering of the layout of our room.)

K suggested we put the bed on the right wall of the room. He moved to that area, and he hit me upside the head with another blast of male "reasoning": "That way, if you have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, all you do is walk forward to get to the door. If we put it on the other wall, the person on the far side has to make their way around the bed in the dark." As he spoke, he was illustrating his point by climbing off an invisible bed, with quite a bit of fumbling around for the person on the right side of the bed.

Hmm. Interesting. Hadn't thought about it that way. Not that I get up often in the middle of the night to use the restroom, but whatever.

Then it came time to lay out our guest bedroom. I was trying to figure out if turning the bed sideways would make the room seem more spacious.

Yet again, K used the bathroom trip scenario to show how vertical placement of the bed would be easier. I laughed out loud that the design of our home in his head revolves around getting to the toilet.

Speaking of the guest room, we took all the tape down on Sunday, and we moved the furniture back into place. We still haven't hung anything on the wall just yet. K is happy with the color, but the jury may still be out for me. Hopefully once we get more furniture and decorations, the green will balance out a little. We'll see.

But I can take comfort in the fact that even if our guests are horrified by the shocking color of the walls, at least they'll have no problem getting to the bathroom in the middle of the night!

Mars/Venus: Household roles

After living by myself the last four years, I wondered what it would be like to finally have a roommate again -- especially since that roommate would be a man. The only males I've ever lived with were my dad and my brother. Not quite the same thing.

The biggest surprise in living with K is how sentimental he has been about everything. I've always been a sentimental person, but for some reason, I've been more anxious to get things done before I take a break.

After we finished unloading everything from our cars into the house the day we got our keys, I was anxious to get inside and start unpacking the few things we had with us. When I got to the door, though, K stopped me. "What? What is it?" I said. He picked me up and carried me over the threshold. Then, he wanted to hug, give me a kiss, and really take in the moment that we were in our first house together.

It was a sweet moment and everything, but after days of traveling, going from place to place, and living out of suitcases, I was anxious to finally start getting settled in.

The same thing happened the first time we used our new dishes. And the pots and pans. And the first time K cut the grass. And when we finished painting the guest bedroom.

After each "first" marker we reach, K wants to stop, take it in, hug, and give me a kiss. I want to photograph it, then clean up whatever we've messed up (whether it's cleaning dirty dishes, rinsing paintbrushes, or putting away the lawnmower). I know you're supposed to stop and smell the roses, but I'd much rather smell them AFTER we've completely finished the task, when I can really relax.

And remember how clueless I am when it comes to cooking? Well, now that I have a boy roommate who* I happened to have married, I'm supposed to know how to cook. He doesn't expect it of me, but somehow, I all of a sudden expect it myself. I want to be able to cook for him.

Trouble is, we registered for some nice stuff -- stainless steel pots and pans, really nice knives, a pretty and expensive wooden cutting board ... All of these things have to be handwashed to keep them looking nice, which means I spend a lot of time handwashing dishes, which means I have become ridiculous about keeping the kitchen clean and pretty. (Also? Those really nice knives are really sharp, which means I have used a lot of Band-Aids lately.)

Along with K's sentimentality comes his eagerness to use our shiny new kitchen gadgets. "Is it lame that I want to use our new pasta pentola, even though this is a small amount of pasta?" he asked one night when we were making a quick boxed dinner because dinnertime snuck up on us with all the unpacking.

"Yes! I don't want to have to wash them just for that amount. We'll make spaghetti tomorrow. How's that?"

We've had similar conversations a few times. Like tonight, when it came time to use lettuce as a garnish (a garnish!!!) on the chicken enchiladas I'd awkwardly, frustratedly, and painfully (literally -- I cut my finger slicing onions!) managed to put together for dinner. K actually wanted to use our food processor to slice the lettuce. Instead, I asked him to use the cutting board and chef's knife. Even though I'd just washed them from preparing dinner, doing it again would be easier than dragging out, figuring out, and cleaning out our unused food processor.

It's cute that K has been so sentimental about things. I'm usually a really sentimental person, so I certainly never thought I'd find a guy who would be more mushy about all these little firsts than me. Then again, maybe it's just my way of balancing us out. At least this way, I make sure K gets to the next sentimental marker that much faster.

*(Sorry, I hate the word "whom.")

All good in the 'hood

Last night I texted Kris an apology. I thought about mentioning college football or something along those lines, but I thought it might seem more like an excuse than an apology. It also wasn't quite true. Any animosity I have toward Georgia (and its football team) is entirely due to my immature animosity with K's ex. I've never met the girl. She hasn't given ME a reason to dislike her. I just don't do well with mysteries. I really think I'd be better with it all if I'd just met her at some point.

Anyway, Kris texted me back this morning thanking me for the apology. She said she knew I was just being silly, but that it's hard for her because she's friends with K's ex and her entire family on facebook. Kris said she just gets sensitive and overprotective sometimes. Understandable. I still felt pretty crappy about the whole thing, but it's done. No sense dwelling on it.

In other news, K and I got our wedding video today! We watched it this afternoon, and it's really good. There are parts of it -- particularly the part where we tell "our story" -- that are pretty dang funny. I'm glad we got that video. We'll have fun watching it over the years.

We also painted the second coat on our guest bedroom today. I had wanted a nice, calming green, but when our green paint went up over the terra cotta-colored walls, it looked more like a very energizing neon green instead. Yikes! There was also the fact that it made the terra cotta look pink. We'd basically made our room look like a watermelon. K suggested leaving a wall or two terra cotta, then painting black spots on it to complete the look.

After we got the second coat on today, I was so relieved to see the color looked much better than with the first coat. It still may be a bit more on the energizing side, but that's OK. At least it's not neon green. And once we put the bed back with its white bedskirt and comforter, along with the dark curtains to keep the sun from overheating the room, it just might be the perfect color to balance everything out. We'll find out tomorrow, I guess.

In a little over an hour, we'll head over to the neighbors' for the wine party. Hopefully we meet some nice people there.

And tomorrow, I want to go to a church I found nearby. If I like it half as much as I loved my church in Dallas, I'll be very happy.

I guess K and I have a pretty exciting 24 hours ahead of us!

Wine + Facebook = bad idea

We (finally) got home from PA on Sunday night. On Monday, we immediately got back to making our house look like the home it already feels like. We got cable (woohoo!), unpacked a bit more, and spent a lot of the week finding things for the house.

Aside from one short dinnertime trip a few weeks ago, K and I haven't been to the beach. We decided to take Wednesday afternoon off from unpacking so we could go. Being the middle of a non-holiday week, we knew it would be the best time to check out VA Beach.

There was a ton of traffic on the way there, so what should have been a fairly quick trip took well over an hour. By the time we reached VA Beach, so had the front of a thunderstorm.

The mass exodus away from the beach meant another fun trip in traffic. We took a back route to avoid the major traffic, and we found a nice neighborhood beach along the way. We pulled over to get a better look. The dark sky made for some cool photos.

Thursday, we worked to paint our guest bedroom, which is kind of a terra cotta. As a loyal Sooner, any shade that even remotely resembles orange is absolutely unacceptable in my home, so K and I worked to remedy that situation. (I'll post pictures once I'm sure I like the color we've chosen. Painting is scary! Also, having a large guest bedroom is really great until you decide to repaint it!)

We had already decided yesterday that we'd take this morning off to really go to the beach, so we did just that (after checking the weather!). We picked one a little closer to us this time. We laid out for an hour and a half, then headed to a beachside deli for a burger and then some ice cream.

We had planned on painting the second coat in the guest room, but I just wasn't feeling it. I took a nice little nap instead. After that, I joined K to go through the boxes that were left in our bedroom. As we were finishing, one of our neighbors stopped by to invite us to a wine & hors d'oeuvres party they're hosting tomorrow night. After he left, I was so excited I was jumping up & down. Aside from our senior citizen neighbors (on both sides), K is the only person in this town I know, so it'll be great to meet more people.

K and I made a homemade pizza together for dinner. I poured myself a nice glass of wine, and we watched the X Games on TV while we ate. It was chalking up to be a great end to a great day.

And then I logged onto Facebook. I have become pretty good friends with a girl I met through K. It was actually at her wedding that K met his ex-fiance. Well, she put "Georgia or bust" for her Facebook status several days ago, which meant she was going to visit K's ex. When I first saw the status, I had wanted to write "Bust!" ... but I decided against it.

Well, after one measly glass of wine, I tossed that judgment out the window. I posted "Bust! Haha, just kidding!" quickly, so I knew I couldn't undo it. I showed it to K, laughing. (Evidently one glass of wine turns me from a normal, functioning, almost 26-year-old, into an immature 14-year-old with really bad judgment.) I thought about deleting it, but there was no "Delete" option. It was done.

Minutes later, my friend had updated her status: "Didn't realize I'd ever have to delete a friend's comment on my wall." My little joke was gone. I instantly felt terrible.

Shit. There went my buzz, there went my good day. And the ironic part? I did it all myself.

Don't get me wrong, it's a nice suitcase

Before we headed up to Virginia, K talked about visiting his family in Pennsylvania. He wanted to spend a week here. "A week?" I asked incredulously. There was no way either of us would make it through that sane. We're always ready to leave PA by day 4. K's dad & brother are sweet, and I really do love them, but I can only handle them in small doses.

K told me he wanted to travel around PA. We'd visit his friend first in one part of the state, then his dad & brother, and then his aunts & uncles. I told him a week tops. We had too much to do to spend more than a week in PA, especially if it would make us both crazy. After all, we only spent two days with my dad! And since we live so much closer to PA now, we can drive there to visit whenever.

We left for PA last Thursday afternoon so we could catch K's best friend while he was in town. That night, when FIL was asking how long we'd be here, K told him until the next Sunday. SERIOUSLY? That's 9 fucking days! Why didn't I know this?!

Today, we're on day 7 of this trip. It hasn't been bad, really. There have been times I've been frustrated or annoyed, of course. Take yesterday, when K's dad whipped into a handicapped space yesterday at lunch. I said to him, "All of us in this car are able-bodied." He placed his blue decal on the dash and got out of the car. (Grr!)

K and I are leaving his dad's house tomorrow to go to southern PA to visit some of K's aunts, uncles, & cousins. I'm looking forward to seeing them, but at the same time, I WANT TO GO HOME!

Here we are with this great house, and we've hardly been in it! We were in Dallas for not even 4 days for ER's wedding, and we were ready to go home. We'll have been gone for 9 days before we get home again this time.

We're supposed to get home Sunday night. There's a technician coming to the house on Monday morning. Sometime after that (not sure if it'll be Monday or Tuesday), we're supposed to leave for the honeymoon we've never had. We talked about going either to Chincoteague, VA, or Outer Banks, NC. We don't need anything fancy -- just a nice, relaxing getaway for the two of us.

However, I feel like we've had enough of a getaway, even if it hasn't been completely relaxing or just the two of us. I told K today that I really don't care to go somewhere next week -- that I just want to be home. He looked at me like I'd hurt his feelings and said we'd talk about it later. I'm just ready to be settled!

On June 14, K and his buddies left my apartment with my bed, my furniture, and most of my belongings. I slept on an air mattress in an empty apartment for 10 days. Then, once we headed to VA, we slept in a hotel room cluttered with the things that had been in my car, K's car, and a small U-Haul (all the things we needed or didn't want to trust movers with). On July 5, we got our house. On July 13, we got our stuff. Yet I'm still living out of a suitcase.

I want to be in OUR home surrounded by OUR things on OUR bed ... not living out of a suitcase!!!

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

Man, things have been hectic since I last posted! At the time of my last entry, my time as a Dallas resident was coming to a close (cue angels singing). There were lunches and dinners and happy hours with friends I wanted to see before I headed off. There was final packing, and getting my apartment ready to leave.

On June 23, I had my last day of work. On June 24, I headed to Louisiana to help K pack up his apartment. On June 26, we headed to Dallas for the night. The next morning, we left my apartment for the last time, turned in the keys, and headed to Oklahoma. On the 27th, we had my family reunion in northeastern Oklahoma. On the 28th, we left to head to Virginia. We drove for two days, and we arrived at our destination just before midnight on June 30.

But life didn't exactly slow down once we made it to VA:

• July 1 & 2: House hunting
• July 3 - 5: D.C. for the Fourth of July with friends
• July 6 - 8: Moving what we had with us into our new home; shopping for furniture & necessities
• July 9 - 12: Back to Dallas for ER's wedding
• July 13 - 16: Our furniture & household goods arrive at our house; unpacking process begins
• July 16: Hosting our first houseguest!
• July 17 - present: Visiting K's family & friends in PA

In these weeks, there have been some realizations and frustrations. Because I want to end on a good note, I'll list them in reverse order:

The Ugly

Life has been ridiculously hectic since ... oh ... January, pretty much. Last year, I was in kick-ass shape, constantly training for my next athletic event. This year has been so hectic, what with K coming home from Iraq, the Dallas wedding, the move ...

I posted several weeks ago about how my self-image has a lot to do with how often I've been working out, so it's not good right now. My arms, which I used to be proud of and get a lot of compliments on, are not at all what they used to be. I've lost a lot of strength in a lot of places, and it's frustrating. I'm ready to tone up again.

K and I joined a gym near our house, but we're out of town for the next two weeks. I brought my running shoes with me. I WILL use them.

The Bad

I lived by myself for 4 years before K & I headed to Virginia. That's a long time -- especially for a stubborn OCD girl. I knew it would be a challenge adjusting to living with someone again. I knew it would be even more of a challenge adjusting to living with a boy for the first time.

There have been times I've felt like I'm being a huge bitch, like I'm just picking at him all the time, and there have been many times I've worried that I'm going to become my mother. It hasn't helped that things have been really hectic, and it definitely didn't help that my period was last week. All things considered, though, it's been OK, and I think it's getting better.

What I don't understand, though, is how on earth a person can have so much gas! I have a digestive system, so yes, I get gas from time to time. It's part of life. But the sheer amount of gas that K (and, as a result, I) deal with is ridiculous -- and stinky. Seriously, one night I couldn't sleep for the longest time because K kept farting. He was lucky; he slept through it.

Oh! And when he eats food that has some sort of seasoning (salt, garlic, etc) on it, he will rub his fingers together over his food as he chews so that the seasoning that sticks to his fingers winds up on the food still on his plate rather than being "wasted" by wiping it on his napkin. Eeeeew!!! I finally had to say something when he was doing this over a basket of chips we were sharing.

Also, we have quite a few little things we have always done in our relationship. They were fine and cute when we saw each other two days a week, but too much of a good thing really isn't a good thing. Like when he winks at me and expects me to immediately wink back at him every time. Or when he holds his pointer finger right in front of my face and expects me to kiss it so he can triumphantly punch his fist in the air. They're the little things that make us "us," so I haven't said anything. Plus, I don't want to say something and hurt his feelings.

SPEAKING of hurting his feelings!!! He gets so sensitive sometimes! If I say anything that expresses something other than complete satisfaction, he gets all bent out of shape and says he just wants to make me happy all the time. That's sweet and all, but it's not possible! I don't make MYSELF happy all the time!

He seems really hesitant to tell me anything that could hurt my feelings. The other day, we were talking about what pharmacy I should go to for my birth control pills. I mentioned getting them on post, and it took a good two minutes for him to finally spit out that I should just go somewhere closer to home. Seriously, dude, just tell me that! It's not going to hurt my feelings!

I've asked K once or twice if he's having any issues with adjusting, if I'm driving him crazy from time to time. He just shook his head and looked at me with the same googly eyes he's always given me. I'm pretty sure I married a saint (twice). I just hope he's looking at me like that 50 years from now.

The Good

All silly Mars/Venus things aside, it's awesome finally living together. We found a great house (pictures to come!) in an area that we love. We have a nice back yard that Piper is loving playing in. There's so much to do nearby, and friends are already planning their visits to see us. We really feel like we hit the jackpot. So many times, we've said to each other, "I feel like I'm on vacation! I can't believe we LIVE here!"

It's been awesome getting to choose bedroom furniture and talk about our plans for the house. We've officially broken our previous record of consecutive days spent together (record was 20, which was reached during his R&R last September). It's been nice not having a constant inner clock counting down the time we have left until one of us has to leave.

After almost two years of marriage, we're finally feeling like a real married couple.

Bet HR's never seen one like this before!

Dear [Boss]:

Sadly, I would like to submit my resignation from [Wouldn't You Like to Know]. I have enjoyed my almost two and a half years here, but I’ve decided to make a brave move and finally live with my husband when he moves to Virginia Beach at the end of this month. I will miss the people and the environment at WYLK, but it’ll be nice to finally be able to spend weeknights with my husband doing exciting things like grocery shopping and folding laundry.

My last day at WYLK will be Tuesday, June 23, 2009. I will spend a large part of the month of July finding and settling into our home, but beginning Monday, July 27, I should be available for contract work if editing help is needed.

I wish many happy dog days, successful launches, and happy hour celebrations to you, WYLK health and wellness, and the company as a whole. I will forever be grateful for my time at WYLK and the friendships that have come out of it.

Sincerely,
my life is brilliant
Medical Editor

I'm living like a college freshman

After two days of work, my apartment is nearly empty. For the next 13 days, I will be living out of a suitcase in my own apartment, sleeping on an air mattress, and sitting on the floor to watch my TV, which is also sitting on the floor, since I no longer have furniture.

It'll be interesting, since I'm a girl who loves my house to look like a home. But the fact that after these 13 days of bareness are over, I'll finally finally FINALLY be living with my husband? I think that thought can get me through it.

I'd want you to tell me!

I got a gift from God in the mail yesterday.

It's amazing. And it's on sale now.

Girls, buy it for your girls. Boys, buy it for your girl.

Trust me.

Now my feet won't touch the ground

I went to see Coldplay for the first time last November. It was an amazing show, and I told K that if they came through again after he got home, we were so going. And we were getting floor seats.

Months ago, I found out about the dates the band had added to the end of their tour. K and I were able to go to the show in New Orleans on Tuesday night, and it did not disappoint.

Since the concert ended, I've been on a Coldplay high. I just want to keep looking at the photos and watching the videos I took (I got some good ones!). I've read a lot about Coldplay over the last couple of days. I can't seem to get enough.

This really isn't a good thing for my productivity at work, but seeing how I have only 8 working days left anyway, I'm kind of suffering from editoritis as it is. Maybe it'll help me to know that if I'm not looking at them, someone else is. So here you go.

(In case you're wondering, the picture taken during "Yellow" [I'll give you one guess which photo that is!] is from our seats with no zoom. We were much closer to the stage than that picture makes it seem. The 1st picture was from our seats with the zoom, and for the others, I snuck through the aisle to the front to capture those. For the 3rd & 4th photos, yes, I was really that close.)

Part 3: He redeems himself

Leave it to K. When he messes up, he sure can fix it.






















Until last Friday night, my diploma had been in a crappy frame barely larger than the diploma itself. I wanted to buy a nice frame for it when I graduated, but they were so expensive. I just couldn't justify spending so much money on a frame.

I had mentioned to K once a long time ago that I wanted to get a nice frame. I spent dozens and dozens of hours and a few thousand dollars earning that diploma, so it was ridiculous to have it in a $4 Wal-Mart frame. I needed something worthy of the diploma itself.

When K decided on my gift, he remembered that comment. I was so surprised and excited when I opened the frame. I stared at it for several minutes, studying it and the picture. He did a great job.

So in typical guy fashion, K forgot he was supposed to get me a gift ... But in typical K fashion, at the end of the day, he totally delivered.

It's never too late

Yesterday, for the second time in less than a month, I stood at the front of my church and, with K and ER beside me, made a promise in front of the pastor, God and everyone at the church.

This time, though, the promise was to God. I was baptized.

It was something I had thought about for a long time, and it was a decision I did not take lightly. I started talking to my pastor about it close to a year ago. I talked to my grandparents, ER, my dad, K, Jeremy, and a few others about it.

I grew up Baptist. In the Baptist church -- at least how it was always explained to me -- getting baptized is a way of telling the church and the world that you were "saved."

I was 9 when I was saved. I was at summer church camp, which I loved. I spent an afternoon on the porch of our cabin talking with Beverly, one of the adults at our church. I had questions about things I had learned at the camp, and we talked for quite a while. That day, on the porch with Beverly, I became a Christian.

I remember how overwhelmingly amazing it felt. I couldn't wait to tell my grandparents about it when I got home. They were so excited! My mom wasn't religious, so I was worried that she would roll her eyes or quickly change the subject, dismissing the huge, life-changing realization I had had. My mom surprised me, though. She was happy for me. But I didn't really think about getting baptized.

For the first 20 years of my life, I was surrounded by so many examples of what it meant to be a Christian. There was my cousin (the preacher's daughter), who told my brother and me that we were going to hell because we didn't go to church.

There were my aunt and uncle (the preacher), who had their children living such sheltered lives that they forced the same rules on the other children who were around them, confiscating peace sign jewelry ("It's an upside-down, broken cross!") and outlawing things like PG-13 movies and Paula Abdul ("They're bad."). Sundays were spent doing absolutely nothing but going to church, and the TV was not allowed to be on the whole day. (It's no coincidence that my brother and I only spent one Sunday at their house when we were little!)

There were the people from the largest Baptist church in town, who were very pushy and judgmental in their attempts to guilt people into religion.

There were those people who, when I did go to Bible studies, demanded to know where I had been the previous Sunday morning or during the previous week's Bible study.

There was the roommate in college who was so religious that she refused to date, and she was actually even hard to carry on a conversation with (She often interrupted at random times with things like, "Jesus loves you." What is the proper response: "Thank you"? "I know"? "He loves you too"? "Does that mean you do want me to get you more milk at the grocery store?"?).

For the first 20 years of my life, there were a lot of extreme examples of Super Religious People that I didn't know if I could live up to. And to be honest, I didn't want to. Surely God didn't put me on this earth to be a zombie who was incapable of doing nothing but talking about Jesus and the Bible and God and the Holy Spirit (not to call anyone I've mentioned zombies ...). Did that mean I was a bad Christian?

When I started going to ER's church with her, I was relieved at how at home I felt. Everyone was so friendly, and I started going regularly. Even after ER moved, I went by myself. I started going to outings with the 20/30 something group, where I met plenty of people like me, including our associate pastor and his wife. These were religious people who were welcoming. They weren't judging me, they weren't pressuring me, and they weren't talking nonstop about religion. They were like me. They were good people who led good lives both inside and outside the church.

When I first started thinking about getting baptized, I thought long and hard about it. I wanted to be sure I understood the differences in the meanings of the ritual in the Lutheran church from the church I grew up in. I wanted to be sure I completely understood the promise I wanted to make. I wanted to be sure I was doing it for the right reasons, rather than because it's what you're supposed to do.

I talked with our associate pastor about baptism one final time last week. I told him about all the extremes and conflicting messages I had gotten growing up, and how it had confused me about baptism and the details of holding up our end of that promise.

When I left from our meeting, I felt so much better, so much clearer. I no longer felt like I was making a promise to God that would be impossible for me to live up to.

So on a sunny Sunday morning at the age of 25, I was finally baptized.






































ER's sister put it well: "Our church had a great day: three babies and two adults baptized!" Amen!

I feel excited about the promise I made. I feel glad that I took the time to learn more about it before I dove in. I am grateful for the blessings in my life, and I'm excited for the growth that lies ahead.