Newlywed Status

I'm not quite sure how long you get to keep the "newlywed" title. I had always thought that you could get away with that one for a couple of years at least. I fully intend to, mostly because I don't want to have to think up a new name for my blog (the horror), but also it is such an incredibly fun stage and I want to make it last as long as possible. Every once and a while you see those couples who have been married for 20 years that still tickle and laugh and are completely in love. And when you have to watch those couples its disgusting, to be one of those couples is A-MAZ-ING.

However, there does seem to be an argument that you can only call yourself a newlywed for a few short weeks which came up at work yesterday around the lunch table. The gals were talking about how long they knew their significant others before they got married and a co-worker turned to me and asked, "So how long have you been married now?"

"Five months."

"Well you are almost still a newlywed then huh?"

And I thought, "ALMOST? Woman, I still have the nail polish on my toes from the pedicure I got the week before my wedding." Which to me either means I seriously need to pay more attention to my grooming or I can definitely still count myself among the newlywed. I vote for the latter. Perhaps once that last remnant of mauve polish flakes off, I'll reconsider but for now I'm keeping my title.

Alright ladies, opinion time: How long can you call yourself a newlywed?

Ta-da!

Every once and a while I get what I like to call, "a bee in my bonnet," usually encompassing some sort of crazy-hairbrained idea that turns into a major craft project. During the last year it was designing and making the programs for the wedding, which if you read my bride blog, you know was a major undertaking including cut fingers, tears, glue stuck in my hair that I had to cut out and a weekend-long design-a-thon in which I watched every Jane Austen movie ever made (ah, the single life.)

Last weekend, I caught another bug and poor Casey got drug to every fabric store in Seattle on my quest to build a headboard for our bed. I didn't really want to spend the money to buy a whole bed frame, so thank you Better Homes & Gardens, here is my baby.


Of course, there was a staple-in-the-finger incident, and two fingers super-glued together but all in all, perhaps one of my most successful projects ever.

The magazine industry....

Sometimes I get mad that Lauren Weisberger beat me to the punch with The Devil Wears Prada because I could write a shockingly similar account based off my job. Some days.

A "Hair-y" Issue

I don’t know about you, but hair salons make me extremely self-conscious. Maybe it’s all the mirrors, maybe its because I can see my hair at every angle and I never realized there was a piece of popcorn stuck in it or maybe its because I always feel the need to explain myself. Because let’s face it, by the time I actually manage to find the time to schedule an appointment, my hair is usually completely out of control and when greeted by the perfectly coifed receptionist, comparatively I look like The Shaggy Dog. And as I sit in the chair, I always feel the need to come up with an excuse of why my hair looks so bad, usually plopping into the seat with a “Man, it’s windy out there!” or “ I was in a rush this morning, I didn’t have time to dry it” while tossling my hair so the stylist can’t really tell how bad it is. I realize that the perfect solution to this dilemma would be to actually do my hair, but when you have an appointment at 11 am on Saturday, who’s really going to take all the time to fix their hair when someone will fix it for you in a couple of hours? Not me.

All this to say, that I was invited to attend the grand opening of a new salon last night and I was having a bad hair day, as in I was seriously P.O.ed at my head. (Side note: of course today I am having great hair. I did everything the same and it looks a million times better than yesterday.) I ended up working late on some writing pieces (another side note: when I write, I tend to play with my hair while thinking, turning the bangs into a major greaseball by 5 p.m.) and then ran to the party, which was of course full of the most perfectly-coifed, well-manicured, amazingly-colored women ever- of course all standing at about 6 feet as well. And I thought: I have entered the world of the Glamazons and I have very bad hair today.

If it hadn’t been for the appetizers and swag bag, I would have bolted right out of there but I don’t need my self-esteem for an hour if there are crab cakes involved.

Home Sweet Home? Home Sweet Condo? Home Sweet Apartment?

We have been dabbling with the idea of buying a place for a while now. We actually started looking while we were engaged but I had to take a hiatus for that whole wedding thing that was going on and keeping me oh so busy. But now that we have been married for a few months, we are revisiting the topic again and people, it is so hard to know what to do.

Pros: Owning our own place would built equity, we could make a place our own, we could really settle down and stay in one place for a while, the prices are lowest they have been in almost a decade, etc.

Cons: Being strapped into a mortgage is kind of scary, the economy isn't particularly stable at the moment and if one of our companies shut down we would be in BIG trouble, home loans are harder to attain, we really would need to fairly certain we weren't going to up and move in a year, etc.

And everyone we ask has a different opinion: "It's a fantastic time to buy!" "It's the worst time to buy EVER!" Newspapers and news reels tell the same conflicting story and most of our conversations end with us looking at each other, shrugging our shoulders and saying, "I dunno."

But as confusing as the entire decision is, we have come to a conclusion of where this mythical home could possibly be: in sleepy, seaside Des Moines. Every time we go out exploring the different burbs, we somehow end up in Des Moines. Last week, we went to explore Georgetown (Seriously underwhelmed by that one. Next!) and somehow we end up 20 miles away in Des Moines. Again. It's quiet, on the water and seems very family-friendly. On our last trip, I counted 3 baby strollers and two dog-walkers on one street. I love it there, but the question remains, is now the right time and is it the right place? It means the leaving the city, which is bitter sweet for me- I get tired of the lack of parking, the crazy traffic and the sirens, but I also love downtown movies, living within 2 miles of a Tom Douglas restaurant and the awesome shopping.

Suffice it to say, if someone all-knowing and all-powerful (hmm... I know this guy I think, he's awesome) could hit us over the head with a clear-cut sign we would really appreciate it. And if the Mariners could win the pennant that would wonderful as well.

25 Things...

Fine, I give in. I have been tagged to about 25 of the “25 Random Things” thread on Facebook but haven’t done one yet, well mostly because I wouldn’t even know how to post a note on Facebook, whom to tag and it would just end stressing me out. I’m what you call an “Old School” Facebook gal- I never add any of these new-fangled applications because every time I try to I end up confused and wondering how I joined the Biology Rocks! group. Long story short: it’s too complicated for an old lady like me and I would much rather put up on my blog- duh (that’s how you know I’m old school, I just said duh). Okay, here goes:

1. I have a square-inch wide patch of skin on both of my hips that I can’t feel. When I was younger I did gymnastics and apparently all that time leaning on the uneven bars permanently deadened the nerves in the area. It’s like having a teeny, tiny epidural right there, you can ram a pencil into for all I care, I won’t feel it.

2. When I was a little kid, I apparently wanted to grow up to be, and I quote, “ A Chinese lady who makes noodles.” And apparently when my mother tried to break it to me that while I could certainly make noodles, it was physically impossible for me to become Chinese I threw a world-class fit.

3. I wish life was one big giant musical. Seriously.

4. I also really wish I could sing (in my big giant life musical).

5. I have secret ambitions to write a book.

6. The only reason I joined the newspaper in college was because I thought the editor was cute. Good thing I end up marrying him.

7. I just decided in the last year that I like chocolate. Before my 22nd birthday, couldn’t stand the stuff but then apparently estrogen kicked in, I became a woman and I can’t get enough chocolate.

8. I don’t like cats. I usually make the excuse that its because I’m allergic but its really because when they stare at you they have this look in their eyes like they are plotting your death. It creeps me out.

9. When I have to go somewhere, I always go over all the different route options in my mind and decide what the most efficient way would be (gas, then bank, that way I don’t have to go back over the bridge). I also do this when I go to the hospital or the mall; I walk through the route in my mind ahead of time. I call this being “strategic”. Casey calls it being “anal”.

10. I loved Carl Winslow from the show “Family Matters” when I was a little kid. I thought he was awesome and so funny when he freaked out. I loved him so much that for Christmas I asked for an African-American baby doll-aptly named Carl of course. (Even funnier was that my sister Kelsey had one named after Edgar Martinez the baseball player. We were special kids.)

11. Lime Tostito chips, Taco Bell, Big Sexy Hair Spray, Sex and the City, Jalisco Restaurant, The Bachelor, 80’s attire and The Notebook always, always remind me of 5th Hill.

12. Speaking of hair spray, I llllllooovvve big hair. There is a Southern debutante within me that screams “More hairspray! Tease it more” every morning. It’s a constant battle to control this woman.

13. I grew up on Seattle Mariners baseball. My dad has season tickets for years and weekends were spent driving back and forth between Eugene and Seattle for games. I once had lunch with Alex Rodriguez (before the whole Madonna thing, eww), was there for Game 5 of the ’95 AL West Series and every picture I can find of myself between the 4th and 5th grade I am wearing the same thing: my Tasmanian Devil converse tennis shoes, jeans and my gray Mariners sweatshirt.

14. You’d never believe it NOW, but at one point in my life I was actually pretty athletic. One glorious year, I beat Sol Rexius in a footrace (if you are from Eugene you know this is BIG deal) and did more pull-ups than all the boys in my class for the Presidential Fitness Challenge. That was when I peaked. I was eight.

15. I want to apply to be on The Amazing Race TV show. I tell this people and they always laugh, and then I’m stuck sitting there twiddling my fingers because I’M SERIOUS. I’m trying to talk the hubby into let me quit my day job so I can concentrate on applying.

16. Oh, I’ve watched every season and I would kick some serious butt. Just so you know.

17. I’m left-handed, left-footed (soccer), bat left-handed, throw left-handed, but play tennis right-handed. Don’t ask, I’m not sure why either.

18. Two things can cure a bad day: Target and a bean and cheese burrito. Every time.

19. I have a polite phone voice that is much higher-pitched than my normal speaking voice. But it is reserved just for people I work with, who call into work, people at the insurance office and when I order takeout.

20. I also have a fake laugh to go along with these conversations. Nothing like my real laugh, much louder and more obnoxious with an occasional guffaw thrown in.

21. I seriously overestimate how much food we can eat and inevitably we have to eat off the same leftovers for a week and a half because I made a bathtub full of soup for two people.

22. How many more of these things do I have to come up with? Three? Oy vey….. I say oy vey a lot. #22 done.

23. I still drive my red bug, the one and only car I have driven since getting my driver’s license. He and I have a history and I will drive it until it literally falls apart. I love that car.

24. I sing in the car. Very loud and off-key. And if I catch people looking at me, it just makes me want to sing louder.

25. I eat popcorn for meals. I also count coffee as a food group and because I am so nutrition-savvy, I get 2-3 servings a day.

Hold It...... Hold It......

Apparently, the building management for our office has decided to cut back in these harsh economic times and not heat the bathroom on our floor. Heck I am all for conservation and saving a buck or two, but it causing some serious health risks because it so blasted cold in there (and to be frank sitting on the seat is like sitting on a block of ice. Oh and remember without pants on too) that I keep waiting until I have pee so bad that I'm sure my bladder is going to explode before braving the Artic-like conditions.

This cannot be good for me.

One week. A whole lotta change.

I was cruising through the blogroll this morning (glad you made it to Aussie safe and sound E! Happy 6 months Mallory and Jared!) and I happened to glance to the right to look at my most recent entry- and just stopped and shook my head. Despite being written a mere week and a half ago, the sentiments and ideas already seem extremely outdated in the wake of the last week.

A week ago today, I was ready to leave this job behind. And then three people got laid off. Then seven at the corporate office, including my position. And then two more. And then the job I was so ready to ditch became vitally important and all I wanted to do was to keep this job. Desperately. Maybe because the old adage is indeed true, you don't know what you've got until it's gone (or dangled in front of you). Or just maybe finding another job is this economy scares the bejeezes out of me (that's really much more likely.) But right now, I just want to sit my butt in this chair, claim it as my own and keep getting paid while I scheme up my next job idea (Can I write cookbooks without becoming a famous chef first? I don't want to start my restaurant or have cooking show, I just want to book deal. Anyone interested?) I may indeed want to leave this job but I want to leave on my own terms, not someone else's. (I realize that really isn't what you SHOULD say, but I'm all about being honest here. That's just how I feel.)

Needless to say it was an incredibly emotional week- ironically, the people laid off were my favorites, just great, honest, hard-working people who I am praying for now because I know it's been really rough on them.

Here's to hoping this Monday is considerably better than the last.