What a Weekend!

I had a delightful weekend!

And, quite frankly, I deserved it.

Going into the weekend, it had been 12 days since I'd had a day off and I'd been getting progressively more ill every day until I reached the pinnacle of feeling awful Friday morning. I took Friday off of work, spent the day with a fever (until I remembered that I have Tylenol, which claims - truthfully, it turned out - to reduce fevers), trying to cough up my insides, and generally wanting to die and put myself out of my misery. Yes, I'm a bit of a baby when I'm sick. Being ill led to missing a friend's party Thursday night and going to a movie Friday night with another friend.

Saturday morning, I awoke from a Nyquil-induced slumber feeling better than I had in days. I still couldn't breath normally and still coughed every few minutes, but I had more energy, I didn't ache everywhere, and the fever was gone. I opened all the blinds in my house, letting the Spring sun burst in. The light invigorated me even more, so I cleaned.

I love cleaning in the Spring. Something about new beginnings, I guess. I cleaned my bathroom, my bedroom, and my kitchen. And when I say cleaned, I mean cleaned! I even washed the inside of my dishwasher - you know, the parts that get gucked up somehow like the rim around the dishwasher door. Yeah, it was kind of weird, but it felt great to clean! I vacuumed and dusted, things I really dislike doing, and even contemplated tidying my spare bedroom. Didn't happen - I wasn't that crazy!

I finished in time to have a quick chat with Cassie, who had accidentally called me earlier. I didn't realize it had been an accidental call, so I called her back. I then showered and got ready for the day. It was still early, so I sat on my porch and read. It was a moment of heaven on earth.

A short time later, Adam came for a visit. He was on his way to his parents' home for the weekend and asked if he could come by for a little while. Of course, I said yes. We talked for a bit, then he showed me Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog. It was funny and enjoyable and a little surprising. I loved it! We talked some more then he said goodbye and I waved him down the stairs.

Alyson returned from Las Vegas shortly after Adam left. We decided to go out for dinner - I had only eaten meagerly throughout the day - and chose The Garden House. She had never been, though we have tried to eat there several times. The soup was divine, like usual, as was the brownie sundae that we shared. After dinner, we picked up my mom and drove out to my brother's house for games. It was a really nice evening.

Aly and I got back to my home fairly early but offset this by staying up 'til 3am watching multiple episodes of Iron Chef America and talking. Staying up this late while recovering from a nasty cold wasn't the best of ideas, but it was fun nonetheless. I woke up late Sunday morning feeling slighly under the weather, but not horrible. We talked some more then decided we were both really hungry and so probably should remedy that a.s.a.p. by going out for breakfast. IHOP was our chosen destination, and I picked a very delicious avocado, bacon, and cheese omlette. Afterwards, we talked some more at my home, sometimes enjoying the sunshine from my porch, but mostly from my living room because it was quite windy as well as sunny. Alyson eventually left, and I was sad to see her go; it had been a fun visit.

Between her departure and my roommates' arrival, I read, napped, watched a little TV, and sometimes just sat on my porch and watched the world around me. I love lazy Sunday afternoons and I LOVE that the days stay light longer now. As the sun started to set, I went inside and rode my bike for the first time since Wednesday night. It felt great to get my legs pumping again. While riding, a good friend called. We've been playing phone tag for weeks, so I was thrilled that I was available to chat. I finished my ride as we talked then went back to my beloved porch for the duration of the phone call. It was great to sit there and watch the stars slowly appear as I caught up with my friend. I stayed out there after the call ended and read until bedtime.

This weekend rejuvenated my body, my mind, and my soul. I cleaned, visited with family and friends, and had time to ponder, read, and relax. Basically, it was the perfect mix, and I needed it.

Thank heavens for weekends like that!

Mystery Gift Game

My sister-in-law, Rachel, posted this on their blog, and I thought it was a fun idea. Plus, I like getting mystery gifts. Well...I've never been given a mystery gift, but the premise sounds fun. AND, this year, my goal is to give all home-made gifts for Christmas, so this will give me some practice. Here are the rules:

The first three people to respond to this post will get something made by me! My choice. For you.This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1- I make no guarantees that you will like what I make!
2- What I create will be just for you.
3- It'll be done this year.
4- You have no clue what it's going to be.
5- I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.

The catch is that you must repost this on your blog and offer the same to the first 3 people who do the same on your blog.The first 3 people to do so and leave a comment telling me they did win a FAB-U-LOUS homemade gift by me! Oh, and be sure to post a picture of what you win when you get it!
Who's in?

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Compared to 20 years ago (or so), I am definitely better at:
1. Hitting a baseball. One Spring back in middle school, Dad took me to a softball field and we spent the day working on my softball skills. He patiently tried to teach me to bat, throw, and pitch (you must admit, pitching is different that throwing). I'm sad to say I failed to learn how to successfully perform any of them; all I could do was catch and run and could do neither very well.

This past weekend, my family celebrated the Spring-like weather by playing outside a lot. Sunday afternoon, we went to the park and hit baseballs. Nothing formal; one batter, one pitcher, and everyone else fielded balls 'til it was time for them to either pitch or bat. Mostly my oldest brother pitched, but we spelled him every so often. Turns out, I'm still horrible at throwing a ball - no aim or distance. I can hit that darn ball, though! Finally! Almost every pitch - even some bad ones - my bat made contact with the ball enough to propel it forward (in other words, decent hits, not foul balls). Some of those hits had quite a bit of mustard on them and went a ways out. Why couldn't I have caught on in middle school when I was unbelievably asked to join the softball team. I struck out every time at bat - yeah, I ended up warming the bench a lot. Why now? Why can I hit a ball now? Weird.

Compared to 20 years ago (or so), I am definitely worse at:
1. Articulate Speech. Part of the problem could be attributed to the slight lisp created by my new teeth, but I'm afraid that isn't the main problem. I'm talking about using words and/or phrases incorrectly and often messing up well-known, albeit sometimes trite, sayings. More than a decade of fairly voracious reading has increased my vocabulary, introduced me to a variety of pithy phrases, and pretty much hampered my ability to speak coherently. You see, I have a slow brain. The more options it has from which to choose, the longer it takes to decide which option would sound best for that situation/sentence/sentiment/etc. While Ms. Brain sorts through the racks of Synonyms, Pithy Statements, and Really Big, Intelligent-Sounding Words & Phrases, my mouth (who is quicker than my brain) sees something shiny and interesting and spits it out even though it's totally inane and incorrect. Like when I would like to say a word meaning aware of one's surroundings or situation, the word that escapes my mouth is "succinct" instead of a better word like "conscientious". It's not Ms. Brain's fault, she would never have chosen that word! Mouth is to blame. Now, you'll hopefully understand when I mix metaphors, misquote famous sayings, and basically manhandle the English language in general.

2. Dream Impractical Dreams. Ah, the dreams of my youth! Nothing was off-limits or undo-able. The man of my dreams awaited for the perfect time to enter my life, sweep me off my feet, and treat me like a queen for the rest of my days. 'Til that time, I'd travel all over the world - explore the pyramids, eat bread and cheese in Paris, climb the Great Wall of China - really experience what the world had to offer. I'd live in big cities in tiny, but ultra-cool apartments. I could do and be anything. Now, the dream closest to my heart is to be mostly out of debt. A sensible, uber-practical dream that will be very nice when it happens. And, uber-boring! Not bad, just kind of sad. I enjoy being an adult and am okay accepting the accompanying (the first word I wanted to write was "recumbent" - see what I mean?) responsibilities. I wish I had the courage to still Dream Big.

At some point, I discovered that unfulfilled dreams => disappointment => heart pain => no fun at all! Hope slowly took a seat against the gymnasium wall, silently praying that someday I'd have the courage to walk across the room and ask it for a dance. Not that Practical Dreams don't deserve their space on the dance floor; in fact, some of them should never leave it. They are important. It's just that I'm finally in a position to make some Big Dreams come to pass, and, baby, it's time to make room for the wild girls! Especially when Bon Jovi's "It's My Life" comes on! Especially then!

So, Big Dream #1: I'm going to France. Come hell or high water. Alone or with anyone that wants to go with me. I'm going no matter what. Next year! Mark it on your calendar.

Late V-Day Post

Who needs a boyfriend to enjoy Valentines Day? Not me!

I had a pretty nice, albeit lazy and/or relaxing, Valentines Day. Last Friday (the 13th - oooh!), I drove north to spend the weekend with my cousins for one of our cousins weekends. We stayed up too late, of course, finally getting to sleep around 5am. We took our time getting up and getting ready so didn't leave Aly's house 'til around 4pm - not bad, considering. We stopped at Kohl's to do some shopping. I bought three necklaces; they were on sale so I got three for the price I had planned on spending for one! Aly bought sunglasses and Cassie bought a pair of earrings and a few rings. We had decided to go low-budget for this weekend, so we went grocery shopping and bought items for two quick yet delicious meals. It was a good idea, because we saved money, ate good food that was a lot better for us, and had fun cooking together. We made herbed chicken with feta cheese and roma tomatoes for Saturday night and chicken, spinach, and cheese pizza for Sunday's lunch. Mmmm. They were good. We spent the evening watching romantic movies - Memoirs of a Geisha (an odd romance, but still a romance) and Only You (cheesy, but fun). It was nice hanging out with the girls; talking, laughing, sharing secrets, solving the world's problems, bonding.

When I arrived home Sunday evening, I discovered this surprise left for me by my roommates:

The big heart reads "Happy Valentines Day!". Isn't it sweet? They had thought about putting hearts all over the front door (this is my bedroom door), but were afraid that the weather wouldn't be kind to the hearts. They didn't want me to know who had done it, but since whoever had done it had access to my bedroom door, I knew it was them. They are so great!

Monday night, I went to my Dad's house for a little while. When my parents were married, he used to give me a single flower every year for Valentines Day. This year, he restarted the tradition and threw in a few other presents for fun. He gave me a red rose, a teddy bear, and a movie:

(Yeah, yeah, I know it's not a quality picture. I should have closed the blinds but I didn't. Sorry!)

My step-sister was there with her son - he's a cutie! It was good to sit and visit with my dad and everyone. My dad is different from how he was a few years ago; he's more like the man I remember as my dad while growing up. I can tell that he's happy and that makes me happy. My little sister is growing up to be a smart, beautiful, young lady. We have a lot in common and are both BIG daddy's girls. She loaned me a book that I'm really enjoying. In fact, all the books she has loaned me have been fabulous (if you haven't read Fablehaven, try it! The second and third books in the series are even better than the first).

After Dad's, I went to my brother's house because his kids had valentines to give me. Brooke gave me a tweetie bird valentine and Porter's was a snake skin valentine. We played a couple games on their Wii then played one of my favorite games, Foul Play, which I have nicknamed Chickens and Wolves. It's such a simple game, but I love it! Brooke even let me have a piece of chocolate. She told her mom before I came that I can't have food any more so they'd better put away all the sweets. We can't convince her that that rule was only for the 10 days before my surgery and I can now eat food again. She's such a nurturer, it's cute!

All in all, it was a good Valentines - day and weekend!

Green Shirt, Purple Eye Shadow, Orange Necklace

I would never have worn a combination like that when I was in high school. I was a very matchy-matchy girl.

I couldn't wear a brown belt with black shoes or a gold bracelet with a silver necklace. Oh wait, I still can't do either of those! Ahem. Moving on.

Back then, if I wore a green shirt, I'd be wearing green earrings (I didn't wear necklaces back then), and green eye shadow (how embarrassing!). Or at the very least, a neutral eye shadow and diamond earrings. Must...not...mix...colors.

I thank my sister-in-law for showing me that you can wear jewelry that doesn't "match" what you're wearing. She would wear a green necklace with a pink shirt or a orange necklace with a blue dress, and it would look wonderful. So, I started to play around.

Playing around is fun!

She also convinced me to try purple eye shadow, saying it would bring out the blue in my eyes. From the comments I get on my eyes, I don't think the blue needs any help, but I eventually gave in, deciding that playing around with my makeup might be as fun as playing around with my jewelry...and it is!

Someday, I may look back on pictures of myself and cringe at the green shirt, orange necklace, and purple eye shadow combination, but until that day, I'm going to continue to mix it up. And, quite honestly, I'm hoping I'll be cringing at my current weight because I'll be so much skinnier then and won't even notice my color combinations!

What a silly topic.

I'm in such an incredibly good mood today and part of that is because I feel pretty. I love this green shirt - it's taken the place of my favorite, but almost-too-big, blue shirt. And the purple really does make my eyes look more blue (blue-er???). And, what can I say? I totally ♥ this orange necklace - it's one of my rewards for losing 50 lbs.

Sigh. It's a good day.

I hope you're having a good day, too!

Past Dates II

Homecoming Dance 1994
I had had an on-again-off-again crush on Keith since the summer after my sophomore year when we had held hands on his cousin’s porch one evening, so I was ecstatic when we finally started dating…and kissing…a few weeks before the Homecoming Dance. When he asked me to the dance, I was thrilled – it was my first dance date with a bona fide boyfriend. We were going with a few of his (our) friends and their dates (including Missy!). Have I mentioned how excited I was? Well, I was.

The morning of the date, I met Melissa (who sadly was going to the dance in another group) at McDonald’s for hot chocolate. Melissa, do you remember why we did this? I don’t any more; in fact, I just now remembered that we did! Anyhoo, I then returned home to prepare for the activity portion of the date: bowling.

Keith picked me up in his old green car, and one of the other couples, Ben (not Missy’s current husband) and Stacy, were with him. He gave me an arrangement of six red roses that were gorgeous and wonderfully fragrant. I love getting flowers. At some point we must have met up with the other two couples, Bryan and Missy and Matt and Brooke (wow, it took me a bit to remember who the last couple was – it was so long ago!), because I remember following Bryan’s car out to the bowling alley. At least…we followed them for a little while. A few miles from the bowling alley, Keith’s car ran out of gas and died! He pulled over and was not a happy camper. He hit the dashboard in frustration, breaking it. That made it worse. It probably didn’t help that I wasn’t being very successful at holding back my giggles. Ben and Stacy hopped out of the car and went somewhere – to this day I don’t know where they went – so we were alone. I had to work hard, but eventually I lightened Keith’s mood. We decided to hitchhike to the nearest gas station, so we got out of the car and crossed the road so we’d be on the same side as the cars traveling the way we wanted to go. It started to snow. Neither of us wore coats. I giggled. He didn’t.

Rather quickly, a small, white truck pulled over and we explained our dilemma to the driver. He offered us a ride and we hopped in, first arranging the numerous grocery bags filled with heaven-only-knows-what so we could fit. At the gas station, Keith bought a red, plastic gas can-thingy and started putting gas in it. I insisted on staying with him despite the cold and snow and his bad mood, so I witnessed him overfilling the can and gas spraying all over him. I was far enough away to avoid getting splashed, but it totally got him. You can probably guess that his mood didn’t improve and that I found it all absolutely hilarious. Poor Keith, he wasn’t having much luck. He put up with me surprisingly well, though, which, looking back, I can now really appreciate.

Oh, when we first arrived at the gas station, we had called the bowling alley (remember, this is before cell phones) and had told our friends what had happened, and Bryan left to come get us. He showed up shortly after the can was (over)filled and took us to Keith’s car. We arrived at the bowling alley just in time to leave. At some point, Ben and Stacy found us, either at the car or the bowling alley, I don’t remember now. We headed to the college’s science building, where Bryan’s dad worked, and watched a movie in his dad’s room on a big screen. It was a good show, nice and romantic, and I cuddled up to Keith despite the reek of gas coming from his clothes. He slowly started to be happier and by the end of the movie, he was fine. We must have eaten at some point, but I don’t remember when or what. I’m sure it was yummy and fun. How’s that?

Keith took me home to get ready for the dance. Two of my friends who weren’t going to the dance were there to do my hair for me. They did a really good job – it looked really nice, if I do say so myself. It was kind of a French twist, but with a tweak, and they incorporated some baby’s breath from the roses Keith had given me. When I walked down the stairs, Keith was there, looking stunning in his tux. I’ll always cherish the look on his face when he saw me. I have never ever felt so beautiful, and it was because I could tell he thought I was.

The rest of the night was absolutely perfect. He treated me like a princess, while we danced he whispered sweet things; telling me how much he loved me, how beautiful I was, how lucky he felt to be there with me. A lot of the time, we didn’t talk; we just gazed into each others' eyes, smiling. Us being us, we also kidded around a lot, laughing a lot. An acquaintance later told me that she had watched us dancing and had gotten a kick out of how much fun we were having and how totally into each other we were. I remember wishing that the night would never end. Being with him, dancing with him, being held by him was heaven and I didn’t want to ever leave.

It did end, of course. At this point the plan was to go home, but no one wanted the date to be over, so we ended up going to Keith’s house to watch a movie. He and I cuddled the whole time. I love cuddling during movies. He finally took me home and we talked and kissed on my porch ‘til we finally managed to say good night and he left.

Keith certainly had his faults as a boyfriend, and I certainly had mine as his girlfriend, but I will always love him for many reasons; one being this date. So many things went wrong at the beginning (which, like I’ve mentioned, I found funny), and even though it frustrated him and he got upset, I knew then and I know now that he got upset because he wanted so much to impress me, to show me a good time. Plus, no one has ever made me feel so special or so loved as he did that night.

Wherever you are, Keith, thank you for such a great memory.

Past Dates I

My first date
My very first date was a blind date a few days after I turned 16. One of my friends, Christine, who was a senior in high school while I was a lowly sophomore, was going to the Graduation Dance with a guy from a nearby town (let's say his name is Mike) and he was bringing one of his friends to be my date. Another couple rounded out the group. The plan was to meet at the park for dinner, go to Christine's house for games, then head to the dance.

Well, Mike's car broke down on the way here. This was before the prevalence of cell phones, so when our dates didn't arrive on time, we wondered what had happened. After awhile, Christine's dad came to the park to inform us that Mike had called with an explanation of why they were late and that they should arrive in time to play games. This is when I found out that my date was a Mexican student staying with Mike's family for the summer; his name was Jorge. While we ate, the guy from the other couple kept purposefully mispronouncing my date's name. It stuck in my head. When Mike and Jorge arrived, I discovered that my date was a head shorter than me and didn't speak English hardly at all. We played games and at one point I mispronounced Jorge's name and everyone laughed. Except me, who turned bright red, and Jorge, who had no idea what was going on.

After games, I returned home to dress for the dance. Unfortunately, I only had high heels, so the height difference was even worse. The dance was miserable. I tried to talk to him, but he couldn't understand me. It was my first date, I was uncomfortable anyway, and not being able to converse with my date made me feel worse. Dancing didn't help. He was so short! His face was just at that perfect level to make me feel the maximum discomfort. I took my shoes off for pictures so I would be closer to his height - it didn't help.

When the date finally ended, I asked Mike to drop me off at my dad's since Mom and my brothers were out of town that weekend. I jumped out of the car, turned to Jorge, told him it was nice to meet him, said the same to Mike, and said good-bye to Christine in about 10 seconds flat. Then I rushed to the front door before realizing that Jorge had started to get out of the car, ostensibly to walk with me to the door. I turned around, waved, opened the door, went inside, and closed the door, thankful the date was over.

It took 14 years before I'd agree to another blind date.