Happy Birthday, Blog!

One year ago, I had a simple little life. It wasn’t necessarily boring; it just wasn’t as fulfilled as I knew it could be. I was stuck, as they say back home, right square in the middle of a rut; I needed a push to get me out of it. I took an encourager’s advice and started this blog as a way to create some accountability for trying new things and seeing what I could learn along the way.

So, one year later, did it work? Let’s see…

I plunged into a swimming pool of freezing cold water and learned that there is such a thing as “too cold to eat ice cream”.

I rappelled down a 32 story building and decided to leave the tall buildings to Spiderman from now on.

I participated in a Zumba marathon and took a few dance classes; I learned, again, that I dance like a frog in a blender.

I went to my first major league baseball game and after 13 long innings, remembered why I like football better.

I ziplined through a forest and decided that was as close to skydiving as I want to get.

I parasailed the Florida Keys and learned that anything done with my best friend makes for a great adventure.

I went behind the scenes with the band and almost made it to the tour bus. I was reminded that being a friend is more fun than being a fan.

I met a few MMA superstars and realized that you really can’t judge a book by its cover.

By all accounts, I had a lot of fun adventures in 2011 but as it turns out, the one thing to make my life all it was meant to be wasn’t a thing after all. It was, and is, and always will be, a person.

In March, I had my very last first date and found out that there are men out there who will talk to you even though there’s a game on the big screen.

In May, he asked me to love him forever and I finally understood what they mean when they say 'when you know, you know'.

In August, we had a perfect-for-us wedding by the lake and I was reminded that if you get to spend Happily Ever After with your best friend, nothing else matters.

And in September, I stood semi-bravely by as the man of my dreams got on a plane for unmentionable places. I’m still learning what I’m learning from this…

My 2011 was beyond my wildest imagination and more than anything I could have dreamed. I do believe it was my Best. Year. Yet. As you look back over your 2011, I hope you find amazing adventures outside of your comfort zone and special memories somewhere outside of your box. I hope that your 2011 was something new, something different, Something More.

Cheesy Chaos

Hi! Remember me? Apparently, I’ve been gone so long that I could write my name in the dust that’s been collecting on this blog. I partially blame it on Pinterest J

In the past few weeks, I’ve spent all my extra time making a dry erase calendar for our kitchen and Christmas gifts for friends and family. There’s no doubt in my mind that Pinterest is a phenomenal thing. And until recently, I thought the only danger in the site would be that it would take up too much of my already limited time. I was wrong.

Last week, I learned on Pinterest that if you turn a standard pop-up toaster on its side and insert a cheese sandwich, in no time flat, you’ll have “grilled cheese perfection”.

Since my toaster slots weren’t wide enough for a sandwich, I opted for a piece of cheese toast instead. I put my bread topped with cheese in, hit the button, and waited in delicious anticipation.

And that’s when it happened.

Out of nowhere, that bread sized disk of hot, sticky, gooey, cheesy goodness shot out of that toaster. I don’t mean it just slid half way out of the toaster slot. I mean it catapulted across the kitchen, scaring me half to death in the process as it flew by me. In slow motion, I saw the flying mass of hot mess flip over in mid-air and land cheese side down on my favorite rug. And let me just say, there were no mama-pleasing words uttered as I burned my fingers trying to get volcanic cheese sauce out of the rug.

And sadly, it did not end there.

I was dumb enough (or tired enough; in my defense, I had worked a lot of hours that week) to think that perhaps turning down the toast setting and sliding the toaster all the way back on the counter would give me the grilled cheese perfection result I’d been promised.

Let me assure you, it did not.

And it was in that moment, on my hands and knees picking bits of a second piece of imbedded cheese toast out of the rug, that I realized that the next time I want a grilled cheese, I’m calling my dad. He makes the best ones on the planet and there are some things you just can’t replicate no matter how hard you try.

One Clever Cookie

Last night was the Thanksgiving service and dessert fellowship at church. As I baked a batch of pumpkin spice cookies, the standard covered dish question ran through my head:

“What can I put these cookies on? I’d love to use a paper plate so I can just throw it away when it’s empty but a paper plate is soooooo boring. I’m a lot of things but boring is not one of them. There has to be a better way!”

Enter Pinterest, the web-based bulletin board that gives you ideas on everything from crafts to clothes and from home decorating to home cooking… AND it includes links to originating websites so you can get the step by step on how to do it. You simply “pin” the great ideas on your board and come back to them when you need them or when you have time. Pinterest is budget-friendly and includes about a zillion ideas that are low-cost replicas of high-end treasures. I’ve already tried a few Pinterest projects and have no doubt that there are more in my future. (Sorry, Robert, it looks like craft night just became a regular household event!)

So, I’m standing in our kitchen, running out of time and staring almost hopelessly at my cookie sheet of tasty morsels. I flip through the card catalog of ideas that I store in the far reaches of my noggin… and it hits me! An image I pinned a few weeks ago…

And so with a paper plate, a hole punch, and some ribbon… I went from this:

To THIS:

And that, my friends, is one Clever Cookie!

(And thanks Pinterest for showing crafters that low budget and high style are completely compatible!)  

Thank you, Veterans.

They didn’t apply for it, they volunteered for it. It’s not a job, it’s a calling. They signed on the dotted line and now stand on the thin line that separates the ability to live in freedom from the oppression of living in fear.

They run toward danger and serve as human shields for strangers. They take on impossible missions and find a way to complete the task. When they can’t find a way, they make a way. They won’t let you down. They won’t leave you behind.

They do jobs most people would never consider in places most people have never heard of. They seek out danger and put themselves in harm's way so that we can enjoy the liberties we so often take for granted. They don't ask for a 'thank you'; they usually don't know how to react when they get one because credit and accolades are the last things on their minds.

They live out of backpacks and rucksacks. They sleep but they do not rest. They are never comfortable, almost always cold or hot or wet. They don’t get days off; they are always focused and on guard. Yet they do not complain.

They come home bruised and broken but they find a way to move forward and to soldier on. They see things we can’t imagine and see them again in their dreams. They don’t have the words to explain it; we probably couldn’t understand anyway.

They appreciate the value of a two minute phone call, treasure a piece of mail from home, and savor a care package of stale brownies. They take nothing for granted and make use of every resource. They can fix anything with nothing and are the masters of the Plan B, or C, or D.

They miss birthdays and anniversaries, holidays and special events. They don’t get to go to ballgames or dance recitals. They often don’t get to carve the Thanksgiving turkey or trim the Christmas tree. But when they get to enjoy those things, they don’t take one moment for granted.

They are dedicated and sacrificing and dependable and honorable and a thousand more good things. They are Veterans.

And I’m proud today, and every day, to be the wife, granddaughter, sister-in-law, daughter-in-law, and friend of so many wonderful members of military service. 'Thank you' isn’t enough to tell you how grateful I am for each of you for your service and your sacrifice. Happy Veteran’s Day.

Blame it on the Jet Lag

I was cleaning off my computer desktop tonight and ran across a blog I wrote in August but apparently failed to post... I'm blaming it on the honeymoon jet lag. :)

“In six months, you’ll meet someone, fall in love, get married, and be kicking back on a beach in Key West with a tropical drink….”

If someone had said that to me, I would have laughed at them. I certainly wouldn’t have believed them…but they would have been right. It just proves the point that life is sometimes stranger (in a good way) than fiction and you just never know when your dream come true might be around the next corner.

Robert and I got married last Sunday, in a beautiful lakeside service under a picture perfect blue sky. Well, mostly picture perfect. We’d been worried about August heat and had a heat-stroke prevention plan that included handheld fans and water bottles for the guests. The possibility of downpours didn’t occur to me until about Tuesday when the weather personalities started using the R word (and friends, they weren’t saying Robert!).  I bought a few umbrellas just in case and although rain clouds flitted around the sky most of the day, the ceremony was spared a soggy fate (unless you count the people who shed a few happy tears during the event). On the way home from the ceremony, the bottom fell out and we got several emails and text messages of rainbows and even a double rainbow, signs we were happy to claim as our own personal messages from heaven.

We planned a wedding in ten weeks, which by most standards is warp speed. We couldn’t have done it without the love and support of our very patient families and friends. I know I’ll leave someone out but when a thank-you note doesn’t seem like enough, blogging to the entire internet (or the 17 or so followers who read this blog) seems a little more fitting J

To Robert- Thank you for loving me, for putting up with the Bridezilla moments, and for always knowing two things: how to make me laugh, and when I need a hug… even if it’s in the middle of a crowded aisle in a store full of strangers. Marrying you was, is, and always will be the best thing I’ve ever done. And, I’d do it again today, tomorrow, and any day after that…

To Mom & Dad- There will never never never be words big enough to say how much I love you both and how much I appreciate all the sacrifices you made and continue to make to support my dreams. You guys are my loudest cheerleaders, biggest encouragers, and best friends. I am the luckiest daughter in the world. Thank you for listening, laughing, and for loving me (and Robert too!)

To Beth & Steve- I couldn’t ask for more wonderful in-laws than you guys! You accepted me into your lives and into your hearts and that means more than you’ll ever know. I promise to love Robert as much as you do J Thank you for raising such a phenomenal son and for sharing him with me.

Jaime & Tim- For as long as I can remember, you guys have been extra parents (when I was pretty sure I already had parents!) but as it turns out, you can never have too many people loving you and I’m so very grateful for your encouragement, support, and willingness to stop what you’re doing anytime I said “I need….” Even when it was warranted, you never said “I told you so”. Thank you for sharing in our special day and for welcoming Robert into our family.

Karen & Israel- What do you say to the people who made Happily Ever After possible? “Thank you” just doesn’t seem like enough. For introducing us, for sharing in our lives, and for playing such important roles in our wedding, we are truly grateful.

Mary Kelly- You simply rock. From nail polish and shoes to ink and fonts, you are indeed my Girl Friday in the decisions big and small. I would be lost (and completely out of fashion and out of my mind) without you!

Tish- I hereby bestow upon you my water wings J I know you’ll use them wisely and well. I will always be grateful for you telling me what I already knew when you helped me to believe that swimming doesn’t always mean drowning. I love you to pieces.

Cassie & Herb- Thank you for photographing our engagement and wedding! You guys are phenomenal!

Adella & Debbie- Thanks for helping behind the scenes on the wedding day! You were there to celebrate with us but you pitched in and lent helping hands and we so very much appreciate you both! 

I’m sure I’ve forgotten someone or lots of someones and for that, deepest apologies… For our friends and family at the wedding- we love you and we thank you for sharing in our special day. For those who couldn’t attend or who couldn’t be invited due to space constraints, we love you too and we hope you understand that a small ceremony just seemed to fit with where we are in our lives.

And…  I’ll post some funny pre-wedding stories and some photos soon… as soon as I pick out which ones I love best…. For now, blog buddies, I hope your days are filled with some love, some laughter, and best of all, someone to share your Happily Ever After with…

Leaving the Light On

Almost three months into the Happily Ever After of married life, I find myself spending a lot of time these days pouring over engagement pictures and wedding photos and honeymoon snapshots, missing Robert, reliving the memories and daydreaming about what the future might hold.

While we said from the beginning that the marriage was more important than the wedding, we did try to make our wedding day unique but not weird, and special but not silly. The best compliment we’ve gotten (and we’ve heard it more than once) was that “the wedding was so ‘you guys’.” It was fun and relaxed and simple… simply perfect. If we had to do it over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.

And three months later, the uniqueness that has come with doing everything a little outside the box continues.

Some brides donate their wedding floral arrangements to hospitals or retirement homes, never to see them again. Some brides press their flowers in a heavy book and then wonder what to do with the flattened florals over time. And some brides know the well kept secret (or their moms do, at least) of Victorian Seasons in Apex. This weekend, my bridal bouquet was returned to me (thanks, Mom!) in a fantastically amazing way. The fun folks at Victorian Seasons embedded my bouquet flowers into a candle, one lit by a small light bulb so that the ‘candle’ never actually melts. What a special way to remember a special day!

Since Robert deployed, I’ve been counting the days until he comes home. I might just be in a sentimental mood today but it’s very comforting to know that our wedding flowers are helping to ‘leave the light on’ for him. I miss you, love; come home soon. I'll be right here waiting.

Dance for a Chance

If you’ve known me longer than, say, 2 minutes, you know that these two things are a given: 1. I’ll do practically anything to help a child and 2. I’m on a perpetual quest for a fitness concept that keeps me entertained and that actually works to get me back into those jeans that have been relegated to the back corner of the closet.

Saturday was a perfect opportunity to combine these two things!

My sister-in-law, Karen, and I joined her friend Natassha at Dance for a Chance, a Zumba marathon to raise money to help Johnston County Partnership for Children and The Miracle League build a ball field for children with physical challenges and a playground where children of all abilities can play together. I’d tried Zumba before and unlike Shakira, my hips do lie when they try to tell my brain that I can move like the people on the Zumba videos. The great thing about Zumba, though, is that when you get lost in the choreography, you can just dance around until you find yourself again. In a live class, Zumba participants are about the most fun-loving and unassuming people I’ve ever met- if you’re having fun, and getting your cardio groove on, they don’t really care if you’re in step with the music or dance like a frog in a blender.





For two hours, we lived William W. Purkey’s quote of “You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching” and let me just say, it may not have been pretty but it was FUN! Fun to the tune of 1000 calories burned and 4400 dollars raised for a great cause!

I can’t wait to see the playground and ball field when they are complete; thanks, Dance for a Chance, for helping to make sure that kids of all abilities can share the simple joys of childhood- swings, slides, and sportsmanship!



One happy little Zumba crew!



For All the Marbles

When Robert deployed, I immediately started counting down the days until he will be back home. Everyone said time would fly by. Everyone was wrong. That time that’s supposed to be flying is apparently stuck on a tarmac somewhere; it’s been replaced by seconds that tick by at a snail’s pace and hours that stretch out before me like a road I’ll never get down.

To help with passing the time, my niece and nephew (with some help from my awesome sister!) gave me a jar of marbles, the number of which matches the number of days he’s scheduled to be gone. Every night, I take a marble out and when the jar’s empty, he’ll be home. And as much as I’m a “glass half full” kind of girl, I’m excited for a glass completely empty!

Since I believe everything happens for a reason, it's no coincidence that the jar was filled with marbles as opposed to something else (like chocolates or pennies). I hear the phrase "it's for all the marbles" from time to time; it means that you believe in your choice so strongly that, no matter what, you're willing to stand by it for the long haul. You're willing to do anything, risk everything, and hold back nothing, in support of your choice. You wouldn't trade it for anything, and nothing in the whole wide world could make you change your mind about it.

My bedside jar of marbles shows me daily that our marriage is bigger than the momentary trials and challenges that will come with a deployment during our newlywed year. The marbles remind me that there's a very long Happily Ever After waiting on the other side of this temporary deployment. They are an unspoken promise that love and committment are stronger than the distance and the time. They are an encouragement that this too shall pass. They are the markers of time that tell me that day after day, we can do this and it's going to be all right. I guess you could say the marbles are keeping me from losing my marbles. :)

Lucas and Linde

Yesterday, I received a message on facebook from Melissa, one of my most favorite folks in the entire world. She asked me to share a link with my blogbuddies...Please Pray for My Aunt.

Lucas, the little one in this youtube video, and his mom are Melissa's friends and they need a little help. Lucas' aunt Linde has cancer and could use a little encouragement (couldn't we all?).

So, please check out the link, send up a prayer for Linde and her family, and if you have 44 cents to spare, drop an anonymous card or note to Linde just to tell her you're in her corner as she's in the fight of her life.

The address, in case you can't see it on the video, is:

Linde B.
PO Box 1245
Virginia Beach, VA 23451

A random act of kindness, a prayer said for a family, a note sent to a friend you haven't met yet. Isn't that what it's all about?

Over the Edge

I hoped 2011 would be the year I’d get out of my box, away from my comfort zone, into some new adventures. Oh, when will I learn to be careful what I wish for??

A few months ago, some officemates asked if I wanted to participate in Over the Edge, a Special Olympics fundraising event that consists of rappelling down a 32 story building in downtown Raleigh. I thought it sounded fun so I agreed to join in; it wasn’t until people started asking if I was scared that I wondered if maybe they knew something I didn’t. Should I be scared? Should I back out? I gave it serious thought but finally decided that if I walked away from everything that scared me, I’d never try anything new and that would defeat the purpose of my 2011.

Oh, that's a long way up... or down.

So, I found some sponsors and some cheerleaders and Saturday, in the windy cold, we headed toward downtown. As we drove, the butterflies in my belly morphed into pterodactyls but I hoped their wings would come in handy, should the ability to fly become necessary.

When I saw the rappelling harnesses, I instantly felt better. They were just like the ones we’d used for ziplining earlier in the year. My new-found confidence disappeared quite quickly when the equipment manager told me that rappelling was nothing like ziplining. Uh-oh, this isn’t good. But, I already had the free t-shirt so quitting was not an option.

In my very attractive helmet, gloves, and harness, I headed over to the parking deck to practice. After a short tutorial on the equipment and what to do, I was doing it! And it was fun! A one-story rappel, no problem! I’ve got this, or so I thought…

Trial run...

I headed back up to the roof of the Capitol Center. And I made the cardinal mistake- I looked down… way down, to the specks that were people waiting in the courtyard to watch. Uh-oh, maybe Robert was right when he said this wasn’t a great idea. But by then, I couldn’t let a good case of helmet hair go wasted so….

I hooked into my ropes and hopped up on the edge of the building. I heard my cheerleaders screaming, took a deep breath, leaned back until my legs formed a 90 degree angle with the building, and began to walk down the building; no turning back now. I was really doing it!

Over the Edge... the first step is BY FAR the most difficult.

No turning back... this might actually be fun!

Ready to have my feet back on solid ground... very, very ready.

And I did! For 32 stories, I rappelled down a building! There were some moments that I crept along, and some that I cruised a little more quickly than I intended; some where I dangled facing away from the building and some where the wind was blowing me around like the pendulum on a clock. Jessica, the rappeller beside me, and I raced a little… with my dad cheering me on to pass her and my mom sending me subliminal messages that “this is not a race”. Rappelling was fun but to be honest, I was pretty excited to finally get my feet back on the ground.

When I got to the bottom, I found out that my sister-in-law had emailed Robert the live streaming video of my rappel so he was able to watch from the other side of the world. I love that he supports everything I do but I think he’ll be happy to hear that I have no dangling plans for the foreseeable future. J

Over the Edge was a GREAT experience and Special Olympics continues to amaze me with their creativity and ingenuity on fundraising events. From the Polar Plunge where people jumped into freezing water to the Over the Edge where people dangle from a skyscraper, I wonder what they’ll come up with next. I also wonder how much convincing it’ll take to get me to join in on a crazy adventure. Not much, I’m guessing, outside my box is turning out to be a fun place to be. J

Ready or Not

“I’m just not ready.” “I don’t know how to do this.”

And these are just two of the thoughts that have run a marathon through my head the past few days. As Robert’s deployment date drew near, I fretted. I worried. I cried. Robert was the picture of patience. He never complained about my endless questions; he didn’t say a word when his favorite t-shirt was smudged with mascara. He held my hand, wiped my tears, hugged me tight and said everything I needed to hear.

We spent the weekend packing too much stuff in too few bags, we said our ‘see you laters’ in a dim parking lot, and I watched him fade into a sea of camouflaged soldiers headed toward a plane. I failed miserably at being strong; I gave up even trying.

I’m sure I’ll keep Kleenex and Hallmark in business for the upcoming weeks but I have come to realize that falling apart here won’t help Robert keep it together over there. Worrying won’t make the time pass any more quickly and being scared won’t keep him safe. He’s counting on me to take care of things here so that he can concentrate over there; I will not let him down.

When you love someone, you don’t want to be without them for a day, much less an extended amount of time, but you know that missing them temporarily is better than not knowing what you’re missing. You know that your heart hurts because the ties that bind are stretching but not breaking. You know that life will be different for a little while but that it will be that much sweeter when you’re together again.

No military family member is ever ready to see their loved one get on that plane. No military spouse ever feels like they’ve got the homeland side of a deployment completely under control. But we know that it’s their calling to do the jobs that keep us safe and keep our liberties in tact. So, we watch them go and we count down the days until they are safely back with us. We take it one day, sometimes one moment, at a time. We take care of the houses and make sure the bills get paid. We cry over random things and send care packages because “when we don’t know what to do, we throw a brownie at it”. We do anything we can so that our soldier has one less thing to worry about. It’s the least we can do. And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Robert, if you can read this from where you are, know that I love you, I miss you, and I am so very very proud of you. See you soon!

Can You Hear Me Now??? Yes, I sure can.

After sending my complaining, ranting, raving, squeaky wheeling email to the big cell phone company, and truly feeling no better for having voiced all of my disappointment and dismay, a friend called with a suggestion on a last ditch effort to fix the problem. And it was truly a light bulb moment when I was 1. grateful for friends who are not only smart but have extra doses of common sense and 2. irritated all over again that none of the five company representatives I’d worked with over the past few days had thought of this brilliantly simple, problem solving idea.

And so we went to the store (not the store we'd tried before) hopeful but completely prepared for another disappointment.  Enter Matt. We explained the gist of our dilemma and our idea on how to fix it. Matt never missed a beat and said “absolutely, that’s a great idea.” Finally, we're getting somewhere!

An hour or so later, we walked out of the store with not only the phone I wanted (and it’s pink; you knew it would be!), but with a merged plan that actually saves us 10 dollars a month, and a peace of mind that I will never be unreachable when or if Robert needs me while he’s away. I know Matt did all the work but somehow I walked out feeling like my own version of David and Goliath, like my voice was heard through the sea of customers and my pennies mattered in the bank of their 10.2 billion dollar profits. I told Robert I felt like it was a “victory for poor people everywhere” that I didn’t cave to paying their high phone price. He gave me the look and told me I was being a little dramatic. I didn’t care; I was on top of the world. I love a good happy ending.     

As we got back in the truck, I got a follow up email from the rant I’d sent to Customer Service. It thanked me for being a loyal customer and explained to me why there was nothing they could do to help change my situation. I guess they’ve never met Matt.

Can You Hear Me Now? Ummm, nope.

Most of you know I like to keep this blog light and fun. But twice this week, I’ve ventured to that deep dark place where patience and madness collide, where ugly thoughts and evil wishes rise to the surface, where words my mama wouldn’t be proud of fly out of my face… you know the place- Customer Service hell. Yep, been there twice this week… and when saying, “Don’t make me blog about this” didn’t get me anywhere, I am forced to stay true to my word and tell you all about it.

All I wanted was an early upgrade on my cell phone so that I can talk to Robert across the globe without being tied to the computer at the house. Sounds easy enough, right? So off to the cell phone store we go. But they say I’m not eligible for an upgrade and a new phone will cost 649. And that’s not 6 dollars and 49 cents, ya’ll. Six hundred and forty-nine dollars. That I don’t have to spare even though I work three jobs. And so I leave the store, with my lip poked out and a grown-up version of a two-year old’s temper tantrum brewing within me.

Based on recommendations from my co-workers, I called Customer Service to see if somebody’s supervisor’s supervisor could help change my eligibility date so that I could get the phone I need at a price I could live with.

And 47 minutes later... Yep, 47 long, put on hold no less than seven times, minutes later, I was still no closer to getting what I need. Here’s the problem and I’m pretty sure you’ll see the core of my discontent pretty quickly.

I signed a two year contract in March 2010. I got a simple plan because I didn’t text a lot then. Somewhere along the way, I changed my plan because it only takes one month of going over your allowed texts to realize that a few extra LOLs can really break the bank. Strike One: opting for the long range contract (over the shorter 1 year option) forces you to wait 20 months for a new phone (in the life of cell phone advances, 20 months might as well be 20 years, if you ask me). Strike Two: upping your minutes to actually pay them more per month de-activates your eligibility for an early upgrade (now how much sense does it make to punish a customer for giving you more money each month?). And Strike Three: the cell phone company signed some sort of contract with Apple that makes it “impossible” to change anyone’s eligibility or plan status. (Good job, legal department. Way to build in an exception clause.) Three strikes and that’s the ballgame, folks.  

I did write a nasty email to the company and used all the big words I could think of- atrocious, deplorable, inconsiderate, unfathomable, and on and on. I’m pretty sure it didn’t do any good. I’m still sitting here with a phone that can’t do what I need it to do.

What floors me is that the exact same phone that would cost me 649 today would be given to a brand new customer for 199. How’s that for rewarding customer loyalty? I understand that they are in business to make money and if they made an exception for me today, they’d be losing 350 dollars. For a company that made 10.2 Billion, yep Billion with a B, dollars in profits last year, 350 measly dollars doesn’t seem like much of a compromise to keep a loyal, long-time customer. But I suppose that’s how they made their 10.2 billion- 350 at a time. What boggles me as much as that is why a company that is savvy enough to make that kind of profit would sign a contract with Apple that doesn’t have any way to make an exception to eligibility dates. I mean, really, what’s it take for a girl to get a loophole around here?

I haven’t heard back from my email to the company; I’m pretty sure their only course of action at this point will be to put me on the Crazy Customer Watch List. Since their coverage really is the best, I’m pretty much stuck in cell phone jail and I’ll probably just wait out my time like a good little prisoner. But if you have any ideas on how to best execute a prison break from the cell phone, let me know.

Top 10- Anniversary Edition

One month ago, my life changed permanently and perfectly into what it has always meant to be. I put on a beautiful white dress, walked down an aisle in front of family and friends, and joined hands and hearts with the man who is my best friend, my unfailing support, my constant comedian, and the absolute love of my life.

They say, ‘when you know, you know’ and they (whoever they are) are right. I think Robert says he knew within a week of our meeting. Little did he know that a week’s worth of fantastic home-cooked meals and funny stories is about all I’m good for but lucky for me, by then, he was hooked! J

For me, always the one to put up the walls, it took a little longer. I think it was day 2 of a week of him being away on a work trip for me to realize 1. he’d packed my heart in his duffle bag, yep, I'm pretty sure he sandwiched it right there between his socks and his shampoo; and 2. I was perfectly confident that he’d take care of it, protect it, and bring it back in better condition than he found it. And I was right.

And every day since then, I’ve found a new reason to love him… and here’s  the Top 10 (because you know how much I love a good Top 10 list!)

10- He didn’t even flinch when I accidentally stapled the wedding program to the kitchen table… the table that has safely made it through moves to three states but apparently can only barely survive me on crafty project night… and that lets me know he’s forgiving… and has a sense of humor.

9- He won the firearms competition at work but is quick to tell people I can outshoot him… which is not true… but it lets me know he’s proud of me.

8- There’s not a day that goes by he doesn’t call me Gorgeous or Beautiful or Sweetness… which is also not always true… but it makes me feel like the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.

7- He always tells me dinner is great and always thanks me for packing his lunch even when it’s no trouble at all… and that lets me know I'm appreciated.

6- Instead of complaining when I don’t fold the towels or t-shirts the way he used to do it, he chooses to be grateful that the laundry is done… and that makes me feel like a good homemaker.

5- He always calls to tell me he’s on the way home… and ends every call with “I love you”… and that lets me know he’s thinking of me and that I am loved.

4- He handles the yard work that I detest... and that lets me know I’m not alone in this partnership and that I don't have to do everything by myself.  

3- When I have a ‘special moment’, like when I asked if camouflage spray paint comes out of the can in three colors, he never laughs at me (just with me, later)… and that makes me feel like it’s OK to make mistakes or to not know everything.

2- When I riddle him with questions about anything and everything military, he never tells me it’s a silly question or asks why I’m asking, he just explains it in a way I understand or explains it again until I get it… and that lets me know he cares enough to want me comfortable understanding the work that is such a huge part of our lives.

1-Before he makes a decision, he asks me what I think… and that lets me know that my opinion matters.

We were both independent for so long before we found each other, thinking of someone else first isn’t always second nature but Robert works very hard to make sure I am considered, included, and involved. I appreciate that more than he could ever know. I know life won’t always be perfect, or easy, or simple. I also know that if we keep doing what we’re doing, countless tiny things that let the other know "I'm here for you", we’ll be perfectly, wonderfully, amazingly fantastic until the last chapter says… Happily Ever After.

I love you, Robert. Happy One Month Anniversary.

Looking Back on 9/11

Ten years. A lot can happen. A lot has happened. 10 years ago this weekend, our world got smaller. Words like “terrorist” and “Jihad” went from concepts we’d never heard of to concepts we couldn’t wrap our brains around. Planes crashing into buildings went from a concern we’d never had to a fear we’ll have every time we’re in an airport or in a high-rise building for the rest of our lives. The World Trade Center Twin Towers replaced Princess Diana’s car crash and/or the Challenger Explosion in the “Where were you when…” conversations.

In the midst of the initial news stories on September 11, 2001, there was a palatable mix of anger, shock, and fear. But in the days that followed, those sentiments turned into stories of grace and dignity and heroism, of sacrifice and honor and bravery. Stories of people who sacrificed themselves to save others. Stories of people who wouldn’t surrender to the certainty that their loved one was lost. Stories of people who used their vacation days to help with the bucket brigades. Stories of people who lost someone on Tuesday summoning the courage to get out of bed to face Wednesday. Stories of strength I hope to never have to know; of loss I hope to never have to endure; of courage I hope to never need to possess.

But that’s what makes America, America. That’s what makes the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave still, no matter how battered and scarred, the best place in the world. 9/11 reminded us that America and the freedoms we’re privileged to enjoy are not to be taken lightly; they must be protected because they can vanish in a matter of moments. 9/11 reminds us still today that strangers become neighbors when someone lends a helping hand and that neighbors become friends when someone takes the time to pay attention. 9/11 reminds us that life is fragile and that we should say what we need to, and hug who we want to, and never let a moment pass by because there’s not enough time or you think you don’t have the right words.

As the wife of a soldier, I see things much differently than I did ten years ago, or even one year ago. The stories of the war on terrorism on the news are not just tales of what is happening “somewhere over there”. The President’s speeches and Congressional decisions don’t just affect “someone else”; they affect my husband, my family. And it matters. And what he does matters. And I am so very very proud of him.

On this 9/11 weekend of remembrance, I hope you’ll thank a police officer, hug a fireman, or send a care package to a soldier.  I hope you’ll give a little more to the people around you and take a little less from those who are generous on your behalf. I hope you’ll pause and thank God you were blessed to be born on this patch of grass we call the United States of America. I hope you’ll hum the National Anthem and really think about the words; that you’ll count your blessings until you run out of numbers. This weekend, friends, make it something special, make it something honorable, make it… Something More.

What's in a Name?

Funny little things, names. Parents fret over picking the right one (and then end up calling their babies some nicknamed version anyway). Kids go through phases where they don’t like them or won’t answer to them. Brides practice writing them (sometimes even accidentally signing their new name before they even have it, but that’s another story for another day). They label us, define us, and sometimes even define for us people we don’t even know. To be just one (or in some cases, two) words, names are a big, huge deal.

And then you get married and it’s time to change your name. And the big, huge deal immediately becomes a big, huge pain in the rear. (No offense, Robert; I’d change my name a million times over if it meant getting to be Mrs. You.)

The dilemma started weeks back… as a Southern girl who squishes her two names together, I started getting questions as to what my new initials would be- would I drop the middle name initial or the maiden? Would I keep both and just add my new last name? Would I hyphenate? I was starting to feel like the Carrie Underwood tune “…and I don’t even know my last name”. Argh.

When you use your two first names, having two last names just seems silly so I decided to drop the maiden. Pretty simple.

And then it came time to change names… in a million places… with a million sets of requirements. And nothing’s ever simple.

I got the stink eye from the sweet little lady at the Register of Deeds office because I didn’t bring Robert with me to pick up the certified copies of the marriage license. (She developed a little crush on him when we applied for the license; I can’t say I blame her.)

I took the documents the internet told me I needed to the DMV where I was told I needed a new Social Security card first. Argh.

I backtracked to the Social Security Office where, when I walked in, the big goofus of a security guard was yelling at an elderly lady with a walker in the lobby for bringing in a bottle of water. Geez, it was water and she was older than Methuselah’s mom; give the lady a break already. When I was finally helped by someone who will never be in the running for Employee of the Month, I was told the card would arrive in the mail in 7 to 10 days but that I could use the receipt at the DMV. And then she walked away from the service window like I wasn’t even still sitting there. Deep breaths.

I waited the 24 hours the hurried Social Security worker told me to and swung by the DMV this morning. I went to an office in a small town, thinking it would be quicker than one in the big city. On my way, I got behind a slow school bus that was behind an even slower tractor. Argh. Nope, Argh won’t do. %$#^. That's better.

I got to the DMV before 8:00 and was somehow still tenth in line in a town with a population of 7. Then, I realized I’d accidentally left my cash on the kitchen table so I paid for my new license in change from the cup holder in the car. Yep, that’s the way to get DMV workers smiling first thing in the morning. You don't get a new license on the spot anymore; you get a temporary license card and your new license with photo (that they don't let you see while at the DMV) comes in the mail in two weeks.

So, I took my new, nifty temporary license card that clearly says “Your old license is your photo identification until your new license arrives” to the bank to change my name there. The customer service assistant in the lobby said I had to wait for my new license. I politely showed her the bridging document between the old license and the new, but she wasn’t convinced I was me. *&%$*. *%$#.

Even when I showed her the certified marriage certificate, the Social Security receipt AND told her I had countless other things in the Grown-up Girl Scout’s Bag of Everything with my old name on it, she was still not convinced. *%#@. !@$%. ^%$#!$.

My patience, I realized, was still at home (probably on the kitchen table keeping my 10 dollar bill company.) Lucky for her, a manager came out into the lobby, rescued her from my impending meltdown, and updated everything for me.

There are still more places to update but I’ll get to them. I’m a woman on a mission to be who I’m supposed to be on every document I have. This may take a while; but it's OK, I have an entire lifetime…

Windy Weekend Top 10...or maybe just 9

Happy Tuesday, blogbuddies! I hope everyone made it safely through the weekend, that your yards and homes were spared from Irene’s mischief and that any hurricane party hangovers have been cured. Before the weather personalities started talking about Irene, Robert and I had decided to have a quiet weekend with no plans. Any guesses on how that turned out? You guessed it! A blank calendar at our house doesn’t last very long. The weekend turned out to be pretty fantastic… the Top 9 kind of fantastic… yeah, I know, it's usually 10 but I just couldn’t think of one more… so here we go…

9- Whoopie pies are a fantastic way to break in a new mixer. I’m not sure who was more excited about my birthday present- me, because I’ve wanted a stand mixer forever or Robert, because sweet treats are suddenly much easier to make.

8- When you’ve spent hours taping and painting the bathroom, an hour before the job is done is probably not the time to say, “Baby, are we SURE this is the color we want?” As it turns out, once everything was put back together, we decided our Coventry blue bathroom is beautiful and we’re not planning to change it any time soon!

7- When picking out a new bedspread, if you say it has “plants” on it rather than “flowers”, you’re much more likely to get a man to agree to the purchase. (And by the way, it looks fantastic and I love it all over again every time I walk into the bedroom!)

6- There is absolutely no meal on the planet any better than a country church’s covered dish lunch EXCEPT for a country church’s covered dish lunch that includes Ms. Ernie’s strawberry cake.

5- You know you’re in the South when you spend the morning at church and the afternoon at the firing range. Be advised… this girl can rock a Glock… just saying J  

4- Advice of the weekend- Even if you think you’ve checked to make sure everything’s in the car, check again. Getting home to realize your belated birthday fruit pizza is neatly wrapped up on a kitchen counter five counties away is more than a little disturbing.

3- I do believe Jason Bateman is making a comeback. In the past few weeks, we’ve seen two of his movies (Horrible Bosses and The Switch) and they were both laugh out loud funny. It would be “ill advised” to miss either of these films!

2- When the Governor tells you to stay home, any pounds you put on in following her advice do not count. It’s not your fault you were held hostage by crockpot pot roast and whoopie pies.

1- Much to someone’s (who shall remain nameless) disappointment, even though the label says “camouflage spray paint”, there’s only one color of paint in the can.

I hope your weekend was full of great food, funny moments, and people to share both with. I hope it was something memorable, something monumental... something more.

Say It In Pawns

When we checked into our room at The Reach Resort and the staff learned we were there on our honeymoon, our room was upgraded to a suite that overlooked the beach and a courtyard.

In the courtyard was a giant chess set; we watched people play throughout the week and were quite surprised at the number of people, especially little kids, who actually know how to play chess. I thought it was sort of a lost art but apparently not. I remember learning how to play in elementary school but it took a little refresher lesson from Robert to bring me back up to speed.  After running some commentary on unsuspecting players as we watched from our balcony, I remembered why I forgot how to play in the first place. It confuses me and requires entirely too much thought. The chess pieces, however, caught my attention and it didn’t take long for a little plan to be hatched.

The next night, under the cover of darkness (a little too much cover, given how the photos turned out), and a few nights after that, I snuck down to the chess game like some sort of stealth-mode spy and move the pieces to spell out secret messages to Robert who sat on the balcony with the camera. It was probably a corny thing to do but at the time, it seemed sweet and flirty and fun. I kept waiting for a staff member to tell me to put the pieces back where they belonged; but I took the risk- I'm just a rule-breaking rebel like that!

Love



It's difficult to see but... I Heart U

 You'd think I would have figured out that the white pieces should have
gone on the left side of the message, since the light was brighter on the right...
R + M

And, let me just tell you… there are only 32 pieces on a chess board so coming up with a message that is both easy to understand and easy to create is not as easy as you’d think. Take your own chess set (or checkers or backgammon or whatever board game you love) and try it at home. Anyone can say “I love you” to their spouse or their kids; it takes a special something to say it in pawns. J

The Height of Love?

On the ride from the airport to the hotel on day one of our honeymoon, Robert and I saw a parasail and I immediately said, “Oooooh, let’s do that!” And I got the look. The look that said “my size 9.5s are completely happy firmly planted on the ground”. The look that I’ve come to know and love. The look that I know, with a little persuasion, can turn into the “I didn’t want to do this but I’m sure glad I did” look. I was, from that moment on, a woman on a mission. J

And on day 3, Robert said, “Let’s give that parasailing thing a try.” It seemed almost like it was his idea. And so, we called our handy dandy concierge desk and within a few moments, it was all set up. And off, or shall I say UP, we went…

From our hotel, we walked to the resort next door to wait for the boat. We were a little early so we found a romantic little spot on a bench on the covered pier to just relax for a minute. Our pleasant moments of watching the waves roll in and the breeze blow by was rudely interrupted by a pigeon in the rafters who decided to make his presence known. I don’t know about you, but pigeon “presence” running down your arm does not for a romantic moment make. While I made quick business of getting the goo off my arm, Robert was busy trying to decide if he should be horrified or if it was OK to laugh. All was well that ended well… and two days later, when we saw this sign, we decided we weren’t the only ones on the island to get a less-than-friendly welcome from the feathered friends.

But, back to the good part of the story….

We hopped on the boat and took off on our parasailing adventure. And up, up, up we went. Robert had a deathgrip on the ropes and kept telling me there were only two tiny metal clips holding him in the harness. I, on the other hand, felt completely secure and thought parasailing was fantastic. I told Robert to pretend he was a butterfly floating on a breeze. Again with the look. On second thought, maybe that was a pretty bad analogy; he quickly told me he’d rather be a wasp or a honeybee. I guess if you’ve got to pretend to be an insect, a wasp is a pretty manly one J. In a few minutes, Robert’s anxiety subsided and he decided parasailing was fun.

We floated high (very high) above Key West and the views of the beaches and the city were amazing! Our Captain lowered us down into the water for a quick and cool dip in the ocean before lifting us up again and then lowering us back to the boat.

And, before we knew it, our parasailing adventure was over but we did get to speed along in the boat while several other pairs of sailers took to the skies. I think of the two, Robert preferred the speedboating to the parasailing but that’s OK; they were both fun!!

From our parasailing adventure, Robert and I learned yet again that no matter what we do, we have fun together and no matter how nervous one of us might be, if the other is there, it’s going to be OK. I think I fell in love with him all over again just for his willingness to set aside his apprehension and help me mark something off my bucket list. And, just in case you wondered… the height of love is 350 feet off the ground, strapped to a parachute, and held into a harness by two clips and a belt buckle. J

Pull Up a Chair... in Key West

At some point on our Key West honeymoon, I looked across our dinner table at the world’s most handsome man and said, fork mid-air, “I now know WHY the honeymoon comes after the wedding.” With a twinkle in his eye, he started laughing and said, “Because if it had come first, your dress wouldn’t have fit for the wedding?” Yep. That’s precisely it. Every night while we were in the Keys, one of us would ask “what was your favorite thing we did today?” and you’ll hear about some of those responses in upcoming blogs. By the end of the week, the question had morphed into “what’s the best thing we’ve eaten while we’ve been here?" and the answers to that changed with almost every new restaurant or café we tried.

I forgot to photograph most of our meals (or was too impatient to take the time to) but here are some of the highlights of places you just MUST TRY if you’re ever in Key West.

Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville Café

Margaritaville Café is on busy Duval Street, which is the main drag from one end of Key West to the other. It’s probably a cardinal Key West sin to cross the threshold into what is probably known to locals as a tourist trap BUT since we were tourists, and we were happy doing touristy things, we saw it and thought it looked like an energetic happy place so we made our way inside where we were promptly seated. When I saw on the Jimmy Buffett menu Cheeseburger in Paradise with the description that said “made just like the song says”, I immediately started singing the tune in my head. “I like mine with lettuce and tomato, Heinz 57 and French fried potatoes…” Yep, sounds good. I’ll have that. Robert, of course, showed me up and had grilled shrimp with rice and green beans. (He’s such a healthy eater; I’m sure glad he doesn’t fret when I have pizza for breakfast or ice cream for dinner… but that’s another blog for another day.) If you think the Cheeseburger in Paradise is just another burger, think again. I don’t know what they did or how they did it, and no offense to anyone who has ever invited me to a backyard bbq, but the Cheeseburger in Paradise was absolutely the best burger I’ve ever eaten. EVER. And let me just tell you, I’ve eaten a lot of burgers in my time. Hands down, this one was the best. So good, in fact, we ate at Margaritaville twice during our stay and one the second visit, Robert joined me in junk food heaven and had a Cheeseburger in Paradise too!

Sloppy Joe’s

Sloppy Joe’s, also on Duval Street, has been in existence since 1939 and was frequented back in the day by Ernest Hemingway. Joe’s offers a laid-back atmosphere, live music, quick service, and great food. The patrons at Joe’s have never met a stranger and you walk in feeling right at home. I had a buffalo chicken wrap and Robert once again tried to find the best cheesesteak on Earth. He put Joe’s in the top five, at least, of his favorites. If we had a Joe’s closer to home, I think Robert would have permanent seating there.

Blackfins

We tried Blackfins, a quaint café with enough seating for maybe 16 (maybe, if everyone’s all squished like sardines) on a recommendation from Brian, the concierge at The Reach Resort. And if I remember correctly, this meal was the one Robert liked best. My meal of grilled shrimp was tasty but Robert’s Chef’s Special Pasta was beyond amazing. It’s what I’d wished I’d gotten the whole time I sat watching him eat it. I have to figure out a way to institute a half-way-through-the-meal plate swap with him… he almost always orders better than I do.

And to finish it off…

Yes, we were in the Keys. No, we did not have key lime pie. Why did we not have key lime pie? Because we, gasp shock and horror, don’t like key lime pie. One hot humid afternoon, we did have smoothies from a stand in the middle of Mallory Square. I tried the key lime pie smoothie simply because I felt obligated to indulge in the island's most recognized citrus fruit and Robert had strawberry. Once again, I wished for a mid-smoothie swap!

PS- Fabulous friends Blane and Patsy gave us a gift certificate to Seven Fish restaurant to use while in the Keys. Off the beaten path, Seven Fish is a tiny spot that you’d have to know about ahead of time. It’s a well-kept secret by the locals but the line outside when it opened told us everything we needed to know. Salads, grilled fish, and strawberry whipped cream pie are the house favorites and come highly recommended by one and all! Sadly, I failed to capture photographic evidence of all the yummy-ness on the Seven Fish menu. But thanks, Blane & Patsy, for sharing in our special day and for the gift card!

PSS- Since we’ve been home, the thought has crossed my mind to hop on the scale to see what sort of damages were done with our fantastic food adventure in the Keys. I have yet to be brave enough. I don’t know that I’ll ever have that kind of courage.

Just Meant to Be

Some things are just meant to be. You can’t explain them, they defy logic and reason. They might not make sense to an outsider but when you’re the one in the middle of it, nothing seems more wonderfully fantastically normal and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

When I met Robert, I figured he’d be someone to watch a ballgame with, or catch a movie, or eat the other half of the spaghetti when I made too much. I didn’t expect that within six months of meeting him, I’d be head over heels in love, engaged, married, and just back from a fantastic honeymoon in Key West. But looking back on it, nothing seems more natural and there’s no one else in the entire world I’d rather spend my time and share my life with.

As I look back on the wedding planning, and I try to pretend I didn’t stress out and fret and worry and shed a tear or two, it occurs to me that as much as God was watching over each of us, steering us on sometimes challenging roads to eventually bring us to paths that crossed, He was also guiding each step of the wedding planning process.

Here are just a few examples of what I mean:

No sooner than I posted on facebook that we were engaged, a photographer friend offered to capture our special day. The venue (that I’d never heard of until that same photographer recommended it) was booked solid EXCEPT for the one weekend we had our eyes on. The dress spoke to me as soon as I walked into the bridal boutique and the make-up professional offered (without me even thinking to be bold enough to ask) to come in on a day the store was closed to get me ready for the wedding. It might be slightly unusual that ONE of those things happened; it’s miraculous that they ALL happened. That’s not coincidence, it’s not happenstance. It’s meant to be.

It seems like every bump that we hit along the planning path was easily circumvented with a phone call or a slight adjustment. When it looked like the take-home favors were about to be a shipping nightmare, a wonderful store manager stepped in and worked some magic. When I’d given up on finding the perfect shoes and settled for boring beige, a fabulous friend called with “I have purple shoes!” and all was right with the world. When too many decisions clouded our ability to think wedding and honeymoon, a travel agent friend popped up and took over coordinating our post-wedding vacation. These fabulous people weren’t put in our lives for no reason; He knew we’d need them and there they were.

In the days before the wedding, the threat of rain loomed but it held off until after the reception, and brought with it double rainbows which we took as personal signs that our marriage was part of His plan all along. It was just meant to be.

In the moments before the ceremony, when a panic of “is this dream really happening to me?” struck the blushing bride, I looked out my staging area window and saw Robert (And yes, I know that’s probably against the rules) but in that moment, I just simply knew there was nothing to be nervous about and that everyone was right where they were meant to be. As I walked down the aisle on the arm of my dad, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was walking toward the place I’ve always belonged, the place I’ve been searching for, the place where everything is just as it’s meant to be.