Vent

So, I left home at 7:30 this morning in order to get to my dermatologist by 8:00 and them boogie on to work by 9:00. I've done this twice before. Twice, I've gotten on the tiny bus that travels the thirty blocks down York Avenue right to Sutton Place Dermatology- making it there in thirty minutes. Today, at 8:30, I was still sitting on the M31. It was already snowing and the bus was packed, at each stop more people piled on.

I debated going on to my appointment and just being an hour late for work, but when I thought about the reason for my visit and the $20 co-pay I'd have to pay and said, "Screw it." It was simply a follow-up visit after having a wart chopped off my chin about six weeks ago. I have a cream, it looks better- not great, but better. And really....? So, I marched in the snow/ rain/ continual wetness from York across 58th street all the way to Lexington where I waited until 8:50 at the bus stop. That is when I finally caved. I hailed a cab to get the next fifteen blocks which really ticked me off.

My goal was to just get to work- about 9:00ish- without paying for a cab. And for a measly 15 blocks that I would easily walk in May- but not this morning. So, I decided if I was going to be a few minutes late, I would AT LEAST have good coffee and I stopped at Starbucks for a grande skinny vanilla misto. Whatever. I decided before I walked in the door I was going to turn this frown upside down and change my attitude. Some things I can't control.

So, the rainy wetness has turned into snow and continued to fall throughout the day. Chris sent me the above picture with the subject "view out my window at work." The second, sunny picture a co-worker sent to me from our offices in LA when he heard that the weather was getting worse here in NYC- so much so that our monthly staff meeting was canceled. He was just rubbing it in.

I think I'm handling winter quite well this year. Although I did follow my mothers suggestion and purchased a bottle of Vitamin D. The only thing is I really wish I could run outdoors. I know I keep saying this, but just when I thought I'd attend the "group run" in Central Park on Saturday- I'm not quite so sure. They are predicting several more inches tonight and a possible 12-16 inches Friday night. Oy! When will it end?! (Hopefully, mid- April!! Last year I missed most of this, being it Texas from Feb 17-March 17, and I gotta tell you I didn't really miss it at all.)

Today-while eating my random, brought from home, lunch of sardines, a pickle, a boiled egg, half of a pita, a Clementine and some mayo-free slaw (WEIRDO) I thought of all the odd things I carry in my purse at any given time. - This lunch was actually in my purse earlier today- tied up in a couple plastic grocery bags- but nonetheless.

In my over sized handbag today alone I have: my March 22nd Edition of the First for Women Magazine that just arrived in the mail Tuesday, a book titled Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters- (this book, I can't say it's changed my life, or revolutionized the way I think, BUT I could have written this book. I told Chris, if he wanted to understand my "issue" my brain at all, he should skim the book for parts I've underlined. Yes, I read most non-fiction, and a few fiction books with a pen in had. Some things people say are so good. I LOVE WORDS!

In addition to two pieces of reading material I have my datebook, my iPhone, my jeweled sparkly business card holder which I use to carry my Metrocard, office pass, office ID, my Starbucks card, and a photo of my two sisters when they visited my in NYC.

I have a bottle of hodge podge vitamins which I take pills from with my lunch each day. A multivitamin, Vitamin B, Calcium, Psyllium Husk, and 5 HTP. In the morning and at night I take Magnesium, Potassium (because I can't tell them apart when they are thrown in the hodge hodge bottle- they look alike) and Acidophilus to get all my good bacteria. And I just ordered some Vitamin D- to help with that seasonal affective disorder. (I now how have a vitamin basket in the kitchen at home just like my mom did/ does!!! Oh dear...)

My purse also has ear-buds, band-aids, Emergen-C a Chocolate Raspberry Luna bar, wintergreen gum, Vanilla Bean Noel hand sanitizer, Shea Cashmere hand cream (which I have considered eating it smells so good), an addressed, stamped card to my Memaw which I've been mean to write in for about two weeks now, Kleenex and a bottle of Aleve.

I have four pens- two of which are not the kind I am supposed to carry in my purse. I always try to ONLY carry click pens in my purse, because somehow the cap always comes off leaving the inside lining forever inked. BUT, I love fine tip Sharpies. So, I'm being daring. I love pens though, good pens. They are worth splurging for. Like red bell peppers or Honeycrisp apples. Life's too short to eat yellow mustard- buy spicy, buy the kind with horseradish, or something.

I also have a wallet - but that's boring. And a cosmetic bag with about ten shades of lipstick and lip gloss, dental floss, a fingernail file, eyedrops, pressed powder and Origins Pulse Point Therapy.

And sometimes I carry an umbrella or a water bottle or my lunch or cardigan or Chris's Bible-- you know when you don't have the back seat of a car to throw all that you need in a day, you just strap it to your body.

So, how was your trip, really?

In addition to this totally hippie inspired t-shirt, a couple huge pine cones the size of my head, and a nasty purple bruise on my right hip bone, I walked away from our Winter Break trip to Tahoe with appreciation and love of my life.

Chris took this picture of me in my Maintain Your Brain t-shirt as soon as we got back to the cabin (let's be honest- vacation home.) I put on my new shirt immediately. You can't really tell from the photo, but this is the back of the shirt. I love this shirt. I am not a big t-shirt wearer. I'm just not. I have about four I sleep in. When we moved from Texas to NY I purged all of my tees (in the greatest garage sale ever), most I had received for free at some run or non-profit event. I kept a few to workout in and sleep in, but now, three years later, most of those have gone down the trash chute. (Which I do feel guilty about. Did you know that the number one recyclable item in NYC that is thrown away instead of recycled is fabric/ material? Towels, rags, old clothes, sock, bedding. True true.)

Anyway, I love this shirt. I haven't bought a shirt with one of those obnoxious vacation destinations (Cancun, Estes Park, Destin) spelled out boldly across the chest since Eureka Springs in 8th Grade. Seriously. I have never even owned an I Heart NYC shirt. How sad! Travesty!

And being the youngest in our group of seven (Chris' family flew up from Texas and met us in Reno, NV) I got to "ride in the back" one night on our way to dinner. Although it was a little cramped, I'd do it again just to get to "ride in the back." My parents were good parents, and never let us sit in the suburban where there was not a seat belt. It wasn't as fun as I had hoped it would be as a child.

I am proud of myself for giving skiing another try. This was my second time to ski, ever, the previous time being in 1999. Even though a sign at the ski rental shop said "Friends don't teach friends how to ski" Chris gave me about a 1-2 hour refresher course. I did get frustrated alot. Not at him, at me. At my lack of trust in myself. At my fear of going "too fast." I'd tell him to "leave me alone" and "go away" but I knew I didn't really mean it. I just knew he'd have more fun doing his own thing- faster thing down Black slopes and leave me to the Greens and Blues. I know he just wanted me to have fun and feel secure in myself.


But see, this is not just a problem on the ski slopes but in my life. Lack of security, lack of confidence in my abilities. I know what to do in my head, but I'm scared to do it.

After the first day of skiing (8AM-1:30 ish) I called it a day. Chris continued to ski and I sat in the lodge drinking a cup of 1/2 decaf coffee and 1/2 of that great hot cocoa that flows piping hot from those machines where you press the button and wait for the cup to fill. (Just like at 7-Eleven, or Racetrack or Exxon.) Sitting there I eavesdropped on the cutest family for about 30-45 minutes.

Julia looked to be about 9 and Adaline was about 4. Adaline had been skiing with her dad and Julia with her mother. As the four year-old waited with her dad for mom and sister to return from the slopes, he peeled an orange for her and pulled a peanut butter sandwich- on raisin bread (the BEST)- out of a baggie. "Dad I was exhausted," she told him. To which he replied,"Let's be honest. You were terrified." They were conversing back and forth about the days events and how he had carried her down the last run of the afternoon. When mom arrived they talked some more about their skiing experiences.

I loved it when dad said that carrying Addy down the mountain was nothing compared to peeling that orange. I loved hearing Addy whisper to Julia, "Let's pretend our hot chocolate is coffee, okay?" as if it were some illegal substance that only grown-ups could drink; like "Let's pretend this hot chocolate is one stiff hotty toddy, okay?" I loved it when the girls offered dad some hot cocoa and told him he really should have some. "You deserve it, Dad."

Families are great. If I ever have a little Christopher Chad I want him to climb, like Chris does. I want him to hear the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean and the piercing honk of Canadian geese in flight. I want him to experience skiing and swimming and mountains and seeing a seed turn into a cantaloupe or a tomato or a daffodil. I want him to be as earthy as Chris and I are; to love the outdoors and feel at home in it. I want him to know that french fries come from potatoes.

I do realize I live in NYC, which has a lifeblood all it's own. It's own heartbeat and rhythm and attitude. But getting away, is necessary. I do feel just as alive when it's 20 degrees at 6:30AM and the only other person I can see or touch or hear is Chris and we're looking across a foggy Lake Tahoe mid-run, as I do basking in the sun on The Great Lawn in Central Park with hundreds of other half naked people, playing Frisbee or reading or drinking wine from plastic cups. Life is Good. Life is This.

I often say "I am exhausted," but the One who carried me down the mountain says, "Let's be honest, you were terrified."

Caution: Your life will not always be this good.

So, we returned Sunday night from our quick trip to Lake Tahoe, which was nice, but went by much too quickly- in all honesty. We left LGA Wednesday morning, leaving us three full days in the Lake Tahoe area, and caught a flight back to NYC from Reno at 7:30AM Sunday morning. So, three flights and three time zones later, we were back on our little island of Manhattan. I keep telling Chris, when we have money direct flights will be our splurge. But, when you are broke $300 to Reno sounds alot better than $1,200 for a direct flight. Even if it does take an entire day to get there.


Luckily, I got quite a bit of sleep on the plane ride(s) home, but I still crashed without as much as unloading a suitcase or starting a load of laundry.


I knew the week ahead of us would be go-go-go, non-stop, so some things have had to wait. Which is why I bought my groceries online yesterday. This week I have three doctor's appointments, a running meeting and rehearsal's for Sunday when Chris and I sing on the Praise Team. And it's cold, windy and rainy here- all week. And I'd really like to get in my "long" run on Saturday. Outside. At the park. All seven miles.


I've been running on the treadmill, which I really do not enjoy. But I hate running in the 20 degree weather more than I hate the treadmill. The only thing worse than running on the treadmill would be running on the treadmill without on iPod, which I have done for two days now. I dropped my iPod. Into the treadmill. It is forever in the twilight zone and will never be retrieved. Last night (after we got home at 9:00) I helped Chris - (well stood by for moral support and the occasional "Hey, hand me that.") try to free my trapped iPod from where it is caught in the treadmill. It's not happening. So, after getting this iPod three years ago from my parents on my 27th birthday, I am needing another one. Good thing I have a birthday coming up.


Last night we attended a Running Meeting where I finally got some new running shoes, which made me terribly happy. Chris got some new socks instead of the $70 heart rate monitor that he really wanted. "Stick with this running thing, and then we'll see about getting at heart rate monitor," was my response. Seriously, boys and their toys. We tried samples of nutrition bars, Shot Blocks, learned some helpful stretches and heard about nipple burn. And blisters. And the need for a product called body glide. Ouch! I've never ran more than seven miles, and now I'm starting to wonder what I signed up for.

2010 has been good so far. I feel like much of 2009 was dark and heavy and brought deep hurt and trials and times where I was like, "Okay, so this is my dark hour. This is her dark hour. Look, there is someone else, going through hell." During the winter of 2008 when the bottom dropped out of the market, NYC felt it pretty hard. So, the beginning of 2009 was rough. Then life just went nuts until the summer, when I started feeling pretty stable. Then Chris was gone for six weeks, and I did more soul searching, more writing, more reflecting. Horrible, unexplainable things happened, deaths happened, and none of us had answers but cried together and held each other up. But now it's 2010 and I feel like it's a season of Life and really Living.


Four friends are pregnant, one just eloped, jobs are being found, songs are being sung and it's as if the cycle continues. Not that this is something entirely new, or that it's the end of an era, but God is faithful. We have to trust Him in this. That life will not always be pretty or full of good times and yellow daisy days.


Pain will come again. Unexplainable things that hurt my feelings will happen to me, probably this week, but I am called to Live a Life of Love. To share it all with God. To vent to Him, to express gratitude to Him, to love Him in spite of my sin, in spite of not giving enough or doing enough- because it's a heart issue- a motive issue, not a doing enough issue. When I feel like it and when I really, really don't- to be faithful. The closer I am to Him, the more evident it will be to those around me. Authenticity is my battlecry.

Where are the authentic Christians? It's not about me. It's not about you. It's about Him.

Lake Tahoe Pics

Our little cabin in the woods. (Three bedroom, three bathroom, balcony, fully stocked pantry, bar & wine rack cabin. Suffering in the woods is hard.)
The dark clouds, heavy with snow, roll in across across Lake Tahoe.

My rad husband. Peace Y'all.

View from the top- Diamond Peak

Such a natural! I love this look. And check out those short skis- ski blades- in a size 15!

What a view!

Up, up, up on the gondola.

Emerald Bay at Lake Tahoe

Chris and Stefani

Choices

It's another dreary/ snowy/ icy/ sleeting day here in the Northeast. And I know, and I've heard, about the snowfall in Texas; the beautiful snow. I've seen the pictures on Facebook and blogs and via email. And the white, fluffy snow is so, so pretty. The snow we get in NYC, it's not pretty. Today on the crosstown bus I noticed how snow covered the mounds of black trash bags sitting on the corner of 86th and Third Ave. Snow turns black and dogs poop on it and it sits there for days.

There is a huge soccer field visible from our apartment window and the snow usually remains untouched and lovely, until it starts melting. However, this weekend someone marched out onto the field, climbing over the fence, and drew a big ole' peace sign. They also drew a humongous heart in which they wrote, "I LOVE MARD." I argued with Chris that it could have said Marg, but there is no way. It was definitely a "D." So, I hope Mard got to see their Valentine.

We finished our taxes and I was surprised to learn that Chris had more taken out in taxes in 2009 than I made in the entire year. Funny how that works when you don't have a real job. And another benefit of living in NY is the state income tax and city income tax. How do we make it here? I honestly don't know, but I know God has provided each and every month, so I know it's where we are supposed to be. (Although some days I long for normalcy. How the rest of the country lives. But, for the most part I'm happy here.)

I'm looking forward to Spring and a little bit more warmth. I'm not asking for alot- just 50's or 60's. Weather warm enough to run in- instead of on the boring treadmill watching Kathy Lee and Hoda. Weather where I can walk home from church. Weather where I can visit the Green Market and buy something besides root vegetables, apples and honey.

So, I've finished all three bags of my Haribo Valentine's Candy. I love Haribo, have I mentioned that? Here is a picture of me in Austria in April 2008 at a small village festival diving head first into some amazing Haribo (that I can't get in the states!)

I love sugar. I love eggplant and leeks and butternut squash too, but I love sugar. So, it's a choice really, how much of this and how much of that and when and where. Sometimes I go overboard with the sugar, and sometimes I go overboard with the Cabbage!

Yesterday Chris and I stopped at Zabar's on our way home from the Chiropractor. We got some brie, lovely pickles and olives we selected purposefully from large bins, some soup and freshly baked Rugelach which I had never had, but were totally yummy in that cinnamon, raisin, pastry sort of way. We also got a lovely garnish- that I ate with a spoon - made with horseradish and beets. It sounds gross, but I love the way it burns my nose hairs. But hey, I like Fioe Gras too. We ate our Rugelach and shared a decaf coffee at 5:30 as we waited to take the 79th Street bus back across the park to the West Side.

It's a choice we make to live here. And most of the time I love it. I love sharing these adventures with my husband. I like the endless amouts of opportunities and things to do/ see/ learn.

Saturday night was spent with close friends- eating dinner at, where else, but a place called El Paso's and drinking cider beers into the night. Sunday following church, we shared lunch with a big group of friends, and Monday we ran errands and got that one last chiropractor visit in before we head to Tahoe tomorrow. A friend let me borrow the cutest snow wear, so I'm set to hit the slopes. In all honesty, I've only skied ONCE in my entire life and that was 10 years ago so, we'll see if I actually gear up in my borrowed snow bunny attire at all. I don't really know what else there is to DO in Tahoe: a little shopping, a lot of looking. We'll see. And Chris and I hope to get some running in too- since the tempurature is in the 50's & 60's there right now.

I'm glad to be away from work, and away from the "routine" of going and coming and doing. Friday I left work in a flurry of frustration and "this is not fair" ness. I haven't taken a lunch break the past two Fridays. And this Friday we were to close at 4:00- for the long President's Day weekend. At 5:05 I was still here. And very bitter. And I do want all I do to point to a trait, a characteristic of our Heavenly Father. Nowhere in that list of forgiving, accepting, honest, just, patient, peacful, Our Shelter, Our Banner, Our Healer, Our Protector do I find bitter.

So much is not our choice. So many things that happy to us, day-to-day, and within our lifetime are not decisions we can make. Period.

So, I'm choosing to look forward to this snowy vacation - even though it's not a tropical, sunny vacation. I hear Lake Tahoe is absolutly beautiful. I hope to read and write and be still for a change. Be Outdoors in the 50 degree weather on a porch of a cabin in the woods. But first I have to decide which shoes to take, buy one more travel item, stop and get cash at the ATM and paint the rest of my tonails. (Last night I only did one toe- for a trial. You know, to see if it was the color I really wanted to use. Somehow, I never got the other nine painted.)

Arts and Craftsy

I miss scrapbooking, even though it was an expensive hobby. I miss stickers and glitter and ribbon and scraps of all sorts strewn about the "work area" (AKA the kitchen table). I love making things. I honestly only completed three true scrapbooks, but I love piecing things together like pictures cut from magazines and tiny jewels and bits of scrap material.

So today I bought some rubber cement and some (more) fine tip sharpies. I do miss Hobby Lobby, and although there is nothing in this city quite like it there are some really great art supply stores that have various weight of fabulous paper and stickers and pens. Sam Flax is pretty great and Lee's Art Shop.

My scrapbooking boxes didn't make it to New York- because really who has space for rubber stamps, various scissors to make various edges, ink pads, card stock, sheets upon sheets of paper I bought because "it's just so pretty," ribbon, and stickers and things I had collected because they were "cute" and "different" and "nice?"Yeah, those quickly got the boot when we moved here. Now my wrapping/ decor/ ribbon all fit in a tiny Bath and Body Works sized paper bag.

So, last night I started randomly cutting out images from magazines and words and captions- like I used to. Not that I plan on jumping into the whole scrapbooking mayhem again, but I do want to make stuff with my hands, maybe note cards or artsy decorative decoupage things to frame. I don't know. I just miss it. Being artsy from time to time.

I think because it's Valentines Day and when I was younger we'd actually made our valentines. Last night I was telling Chris how I wish I had somebody to make valentines with. Someone to cut out hearts with and get glitter in my hair with and glue candy conversation hearts on doilies with. He said he'd do it with me. "Whatever I have to do to keep you from having a child right now, I will do." What a nice guy!

I wasn't implying that I actually wanted a kid to make cupcakes for and dress in white tights with red hearts and send to school with cupid stickers to pass out to all her classmates- what I was saying was I missed having the opportunity when I wanted it. Like helping in the Second Grade Sunday School class once a quarter- that's the kind of commitment I am willing to make. I don't want to teach the class, I just want to help. When I can.

I didn't make my Valentines this year. And today I decided I wasn't going to make cookies or cupcakes or treats for my co-workers or for Chris's staff either like I usually do. I'm just beat. I do enjoy it, but I can't right now. Physically I'm drained. And we leave for Tahoe next week, too. So, today when I bought my Elmer's rubber cement and Sharpies, I got four bags of chocolate that I can pass out at work and church (on Valentines Day) and send to school with Chris if he is so inclined. I do like doing things for other people- especially Chris's staff who work so hard and put up with my husband as a boss! He don't take no crap, y'all. He's definitely the "bad cop." Really, they are (mostly) great people, and they do love my husband- who is a great boss.

So Hershey's instead of baked goods, it's the best I can do!

I love LOVE.

Hugs at home, Winter 2009

November 2005- Proposal Weekend, NYC

Secret Wedding, March 2006

Honeymood in Paris, October 2006

Austria, April 2008

Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200

So, I didn't go straight home at 6:00pm last night. I went straight downstairs to the Irish Pub with a handful of folks from work, whereupon I consumed three glasses of Shiraz over a four hour time period, and still managed to feel pretty lousy most of today. I'm such a lightweight. And I didn't eat. Until I got home at 10:00pm, and devoured most every snack type food in our pantry. The remainder of the bag of Stacy's Pita chips, some popcorn, a couple pieces of lunch meat and a Skinny Cow Ice Cream Sandwich. I was up until midnight watching TV, which is really late for me. I never had a headache, or felt nauseated, just icky.

"I feel like a sack of wet rags is sitting on my stomach. Like if I just eat one piece of white bread, then I will feel much much better." This is what I told Chris this morning while he was putting his hair product in. But the whole wheat bread I had for breakfast with some yogurt didn't help. And the 1/2 of a Gingerbread (limited flavor) Clif bar at noon didn't help either. And the salad with edamame, beats and asparagus I finally got to eat at my 2:30 lunch- didn't help either. Blah. I think sleep may just be the cure. Which is odd, because a few drinks shouldn't do this to a person, nevertheless, I feel like I partied way into the night- which is not at all what I did. I got the train to 96th street and wandered home in the falling snow before 10:00PM.

And, I know I haven't mentioned it nearly enough, but the second wart I had cut/ burned/ dug out of my face over three weeks ago is still quite ugly and not nearly as healed as I feel it should be. And today, I had an angry zit appear on my jaw bone too, it's aching something terrible, but just won't give. I'm spent on all these physical ailments. Today, I started wondering, I will ever finish a Half Marathon. --- It's only two months away. But I know this is not me, this is not how I normally feel. Zapped!

In other, unrelated news, I found out my Haribo were NOT from Austria, but were however, ordered on this website. So now I don't have to save them for just the right time, but I can get more whenever I am so obliged. I got an email at 4:30AM from a friend who couldn't sleep and one this morning from a friend who's mom has been diagnosed with breast cancer and will have surgery tomorrow.

And, even though I know your not supposed to, I put my Nalgene water bottle in the dishwasher. I do from time to time. And it was smelling funky! But this time, I melted the lid- which also explains that horrid odor in the apartment this morning. I kept thinking something was on fire, but after checking the coffee maker a couple times, I assumed it was just me. Or something coming from another apartment on our floor. Melting Plastic- nothing quite like it. Maybe burning hair perhaps. (Did I tell you about the time I singed my arm hair while cooking on the stove top...?

It's been a day. And tonight- rehearsal. As much as I want to go home and crawl under the covers, possibly with my contacts still in (gasp!)- I will go to rehearsal. And I'll sing. And I'll worship, even with a heavy heart. God already knows. I'm glad I can go somewhere, no matter how I'm feeling, how I'm not feeling, and be accepted, loved on and receive a little bit of LIFE. It's only Wednesday.

(Sorry this reads like an email. Or a journal entry. Or a letter to my grandmother.)

Hip Hip Hooray for Haribo!

Yesterday evening I came home and had received an early Valentine's Day Package with my favorite candies: Haribos. But not just any Haribos, these are unique to Austria (where Haribos are made) unavailable in the US. Yeah me!! But now I don't want to open them. I want to save them for a special occasion, although I'm unsure what occasion calls for gummy sugary candies.

In my prize package was also the book Crazy Love by Francis Chan. The book jacket reads, "It's crazy if you think about it. The God of the universe — the Creator of nitrogen and pine needles, galaxies and e-minor — loves us with a radical, unconditional, self-sacrificing love. And what is our typical response? We go to church, sing songs, and try not to cuss." Love it! I think this book is going to be the next Chasing Francis for me. I can't wait, but first I have to finish the book which I'm currently reading.

Last night I ditched the Chiropractor and his wintergreen balm and incense and went straight home at 6:00pm where Chris was already lounging in his reclining side of our couch. So wonderful. And tonight- the same thing! Two nights in a row, no plans, no shopping, no doctors, no rehearsals. It's good.

Last night I made something new for dinner, although not really too exciting. It's a recipe I've seen no less than five times in my First for Women Magazine, Beef Taco Skillet. Y'all this ain't nothing special, but was put in magazines for simple folks like myself. However, being the health conscious, creative woman that I am I didn't follow the recipe but mixed it up a bit. I only used 1/2 of the beef called for (ground sirloin, my choice)- and added lots of veggies to bulk it up: onion, cubed zucchini and mushrooms (Personally, I'd like some red or yellow bell peppers but that is the one thing Chris will not eat. Well, that a raw onions. Sauteed onions are fine- or caramelized as he likes to call them- but not raw. Ewww!)

Of course I threw in HOT salsa, pepper flakes and dished mine out before adding the cheese, but all in all, I felt like it was pretty healthy(er) and a good way to get some roughage in hubbies diet. It may not be something that was ever served under my parents roof, but hey, I do what I can. So tonight, it's the other 1/2lb of beef with some (more) sauteed veggies - fajita style. We do Mexican alot. Even the dishes that I don't intend to be spicy Mexican dishes- somehow turn out that way... Oh, well. It's what we like.

So, home tonight. I'm really wanting to watch Groundhog Day, well, because that's what you do on Groundhog Day, right?

Lovey-dovey

This weekend while I was riding the "bike to nowhere" I was listening to Whitney Houston's new song, I Didn't Know My Own Strength- which is the only song I purchased off her newest album. (Don't judge. I watched the Oprah special and had a moment. A moment of something, that caused me to purchase this Celine Dion/ Titanic-esk song. It's not coincidence that Cher's Song for the Lonely follows it on my newest playlist.) Anyway, while listening to the notes drip like sugary syrup, I looked at my engagement ring.

I usually don't wear my ring at the gym, but I was just pedaling so no harm right? I haven't stared so longingly at my ring in a very long time. I've only had it four years and it's already so much a part of me that I hardly notice it! Well, I notice when it's not on, and my heart skips a beat. I thought about getting the ring, in November, in New York City and being so so happy. So thrilled. So overwhelmed. That night Chris said to me, "The stress for me finally over. I've been so anxious and secretive and giddy hoping that everything would go just right. Now all that stress- it's all on you! You know how you feel now Stef? I've felt like that since August when I bought the ring."

I love planning and organizing and all that jazz- so I enjoyed each moment of planning our wedding. And I loved, and still love, the ring that Chris gave me on that November night in 2005. Looking at my ring this weekend I thought about all the planning he did prior to proposing to me: the trip to NYC- that seemed so spur of the moment, Phantom of the Opera, visiting the recently opened Top of the Rock- which I thought was my very own idea. The private helicopter ride. Dinner at Terrace in the Sky. And that ring. I couldn't believe he had held onto that ring the entire time we'd been in NYC. How sneaky. How sweet. How romantic. (This picture was taken the night of our rehearsal dinner in Tyler, Texas at Josephs where our dear friend is the chef.)

I have such a romantic husband. I've known this since I was sixteen. I was intrigued. I was wooed. I was given a picnic in the park. He learned how to play songs on the piano just for me. One year for Valentines Day he learned how to play the saxaphone. He went to Jr. High band rehearsals (he was in High School band and played trombone) and taught himself a couple of songs. In my parents driveway on Valentines Day he played me You are my Sunshine.

I've received periwinkle roses (he put in a special request, because, afterall, periwinkle is my favorite color), mixed tapes, surprise playlists on my iPod- that really did surprise me, some jewelry and dozens of roses. He's spent hundreds of dollars on long distance phone calls and thousands, I'm sure, on gallons and gallons of gasoline- for me of course. He's organized a surprise party to celebrate my piece in Chicken Soup for the Soul, even preparing chicken soup in the crockpot, and sent me on a scavenger hunt one Christmas. He's endured a Jim Brickman concert, my passion for visting every health food store we pass, and My Fair Lady, ---AND he gets to go with me to see Carole King and James Taylor at Madison Square Garden this summer!

And in case you didn't know, he's the one who insisted on the Oct. 5th wedding date. October 5th, 2006 was a Thursday. He didn't care, it was all about the DATE. The meaning. The romance. He chose the rose garden for our wedding venue as well. (The garden photo was not taken on our wedding day, thank goodness, but during one of our pre-wedding dreamy walks through the garden.) I was concerned about rain, or noise, or people just being loud in a public garden in general, but none of that happened on our wedding day. There was a small crowd- under 100 people- and a full moon and we left on the back of his motorcycle. And we honeymooned in Paris, France- the most romantic city in the world.


I'm so lucky to be so in love. I realize I've been this crazy in love for almost half my life. It's a good feeling. I adore this man, this 6'5" hairy, testosterone filled man. And he adores me. And I still love my ring and I'm sticking by my word, "I just need one big stone."(I know you can hear me saying this. Which is what I told Chris when he'd ask me what kind of ring/ setting/ cut I'd always wanted.) That's all I need. I'm not looking to upgrade- ever. I don't want a 5-year anniversary band or a new setting in 10-years. After 50 years- then we'll talk. I'm not hard to please, am I? Just one Big Rock, okay?

I just felt like reminiscing a little today. I realize I rarely mention Chris on my blog, and it's not for any other reason than to keep our life, our life. But it's funny, for the ten years we dated he was the driving force, the passion behind my writing. The on again, off again teenage angst. The drama. The unrequited love. He is the topic of the novel I wrote and closed and haven't edited on bit. He is the main subject of the pieces that I have gotten published. Maybe I should stick with what I know. With what my passion is. With what I can't live without telling everyone about. My Christopher Chad.