Gifts

You may remember how sweet and thoughtful my husband is when it comes to giving gifts without breaking the bank. :)

Well, today he really outdid himself. He came home from a business trip with a super-cheesy card (think kittens in ninja outfits) and a box of my favorite gum, Dubble Bubble! Along with seeing him after a 4-day hiatus, it totally made my evening!

<3

In the grand scheme of things, the second wedding anniversary isn't really a big deal. It's the 22nd birthday of anniversaries, if you will. Brad and I hadn't planned to do anything special for it other than go out to dinner last night. We are going on a winery tour in Traverse City this weekend, but that's really because I'm on fall break from school and traveling is close to impossible when classes are going on. It's not really an anniversary trip.

Let me back up for a second and say that I *hate* surprises. I like being surprised, of course (who doesn't?) but I can't stand knowing that there's a surprise coming. For that reason, when we got engaged more than 3 years ago, I knew exactly when it was coming. Cut to the last weekend in September, 2005. I knew he had the ring and I knew he planned to prose, oh, within the next 48 hours. Romantic, eh?

This isn't a story I tell a lot of people, because it's embarrassing. The Friday of "proposal weekend," Brad took me out to dinner at Mac's, an OK seafood restaurant in Saline (near where we were living at the time). Nothing special, but back then, we went out to eat 4-5 times a week, so we tried everything! I knew this had to be "it" so I was squirming with anticipation throughout our meal. After dinner, Brad suggested we go for a walk. It was a beautiful, starry, romantic night...OMG, this was it! It was just a matter of time before he got down on one knee.

Until we walked out of the restaurant and his car was being towed. Talk about a buzzkill! And when we finally talked the tow truck driver into letting us off, I started crying on the way home about something that had happened at work. It turned into a terrible, awkward night. Needless to say, the proposal did not happen until the next day (and it was not, as we both admit, under the most romantic of circumstances). Neither of us ever went to Mac's again, and the whole night was basically forgotten.

Fast-forward three years later. We both got home from loooong, stressful days at work (this after a school-inspired almost all-nighter for me) last night, and Brad told me he was taking me out for dinner, but he wouldn't tell me where we were going. After psyching me out multiple times with his roundabout route, he finally pulled up in front of Mac's. I was...confused. After all, I had completely forgotten about the awkward evening in 2005, and the only thing I could think of was, "we ate here once, and it was just OK. THIS is his big surprise dinner?"

But then, as I was about to get out of the car (I was STARVING), Brad told me to wait a second. He pulled out a black jewelry box from his pocket, gave it to me, and inside was the most beautiful silver heart necklace.

And suddenly, it all made sense. He was re-enacting that night in 2005...and this was the surprise romantic proposal I never had!

Well, I was completely in shock. Not because of the necklace (which is beautiful), but because this damn man of mine had managed to pull the wool over my eyes and catch me off guard, which nobody ever does! (Not to mention it was half-off bottle of wine night at Mac's -- so a nice bottle of Zin made the mediocre seafood taste a lot better! :) It was truly an incredible night that I will definitely remember forever, despite the half-bottle of wine.

I am knee-deep in work and schoolwork this week, but Friday at 6 I am DONE with my class and we're taking off for a whirlwind fall colors and wine-drinking trip up north. Brad's aunt and uncle own a condo that they're gracious enough to let us stay in. I can't wait to spend the weekend with the most amazing husband ever!

Fun at the dinner table

My husband Brad and both work...a LOT. The concept of the 40-hour work week died long ago in our house. But we're both happy in our jobs, and we're ambitious, career-driven people, so it's just fine with both of us at this point in our kidless lives.

We try to avoid talking about work at the dinner (or late-night snack?) table, since we hardly see each other during the week and don't want to spoil our couple time with job talk. But the downside to that is neither of us really has any idea what the other person does. Sure, I know he's a video editor, but he never discusses the projects he's working on. Well, unless something goes wrong.

A couple nights ago, Brad came home at 9 p.m. after a long day of editing. He was tired and hungry, and his work wasn't quite over -- he needed to test his DVDs to make sure they played right. As he heated up dinner, I threw them in the DVD player. For the next 30 minutes I watched this series of videos that he created and by the time it was over I was almost in tears.

I never get to see Brad's work, so I honestly had no idea he was so talented! Even those short little video clips obviously required brilliant editing skills, which he's obviously developed over the past two and a half years of being an editor. My heart swelled with pride knowing that these videos made by my husband would be shown to hundreds of people in a few days. I kept asking, "did you do that part?" until he got sick of answering "yes!" I don't think he had any idea that I'd be interested in his work, so the whole situation was highly amusing.

It was a good lesson for both of us. I joked that I was going to make Brad look at a slide presentation I put together so he could be equally proud of me. But seriously -- the next time I do something I'm proud of, I'm totally going to share it with him.

You don't need to talk about work every night at the dinner table. But sometimes, it's nice to give your significant other a window into your world.

Talking to strangers

My husband Brad is a friendly guy. Dude will strike up a conversation with anyone -- from waiters to parking attendants. We'll be on our way in or out of somewhere, in a hurry as always, and the next thing you know it's 25 minutes later and Brad and [insert complete stranger] are comparing their DVD collections. I think it comes from his upbringing in a small town, where this is common practice. It's also a good way to discover that you have more relatives than you thought ("oh -- random grocery store clerk -- you're Aunt Betty's daughter's mother-in-law").

I'm not saying I'm an unfriendly person. I guess I just have a different philosophy on personal space. I spent the first decade of my life on the crowded and not-particularly-friendly East Coast, but more importantly, most of my fam is from NYC, where you will get thrown in the loony bin for being friendly to strangers. I learned my social graces from them. Don't say hi to random people in the grocery store unless you want to get your face rearranged.

But more importantly, most strangers just do not interest me. Call me a b**ch, but I'm a busy person, and I choose to not spend my free time talking to random people on the street who don't really have anything fascinating to say.

Over the past few months, I've literally had to get us out of "friendly" conversations with -- among others -- a window salesman and a pimp in downtown Detroit by being extremely rude. But last night, I think I discovered a more effective method.

As we were walking to our car, we passed a vendor selling used books on the street. Now, I'm all about used books, but this man's collection looked like it was taken from my parents' basement (a musty, yellowed copy of Lake Woebegone Days right next to a never-read paperback of The Grapes of Wrath?!?). But Brad simply can't look away from a book sale of any kind, so we found ourselves perusing through the offerings. And, like always, he struck up a conversation with the vendor. Next thing you know, he and the 55-year-old guy are talking about sales training. (Brad has never worked in sales -- I have no idea how this came about.) The way things were going, I knew I was in for at least another 45 minutes, and I didn't see any good way to break into the conversation and say "let's PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE get out of here."

I picked up the least dog-eared book on the table -- a hardcover copy of The World is Flat -- and handed the guy $5. I'm a genius! The sale finally ended their chatting and gave us an "out" to walk away.

As we walked down the block with our new book, Brad started laughing and put his arm around me. "I can't believe," he said, "that you literally had to buy me out of a conversation."

It worked, didn't it? $5 was a small price to pay for my freedom, and I got a free book out of the deal. I may be onto something....

We interrupt this blog...

Lately I have been thinking. I know...uh-oh.

My life isn't perfect. I'm not a millionaire, for instance. And my knee still hurts, usually more than I care to admit. My garage door has been broken for 18 months. And someone in our immediate family (whose privacy I've been protecting on this blog) is terminally ill.

But you know what? As lives go, I'm pretty effing lucky.

I'm married to an amazing guy who is absolutely my soulmate (and who puts up with my insanity no matter how out of hand it gets). I could not have made it through the past year without him. It sounds cheesy, but we fall more in love with each other every day.

I love my job - it's exciting, challenging and rewarding. At least three days a week, as I'm walking out of the office, I think to myself, "how the hell did I get so lucky?"

I'm starting school in three weeks and I'm beyond excited to be gettin' educated again. And I'm also excited that I have THREE WHOLE WEEKS before I have to hit the books. Phew, no need to stop the crazy partying just yet.

But most importantly? My bedroom looks amazing. We got our new windows last week and now all that's left is redoing the carpet on the stairs. I totally renovated a room in my house. Wow, am I a freaking grownup or what?

Anyway...I just thought I'd take a moment to reflect on all the good things going on around me in this rare moment of mushiness. Tomorrow, back to your regularly scheduled self-deprecation.

Happy 30th!

Happy 30th birthday to Brad! The party I "planned" was a huge success. The planning process involved two things: a) baking a cake and getting special permission to bring it into a bar and b) coming up with a "dress like Brad" theme. Actually, someone else came up with that idea, so I can't even take the credit for that. As you'll see in the photos, I did dress like Brad for part of the night, but I could only wear an XL hoodie for so long before I got sick of the sleeves dipping into my drink.

I wish I had time to post more pics, but I'm due at the airport in an hour and that whole showering thing needs to happen first. So please take a moment to stop by Brad's blog and welcome him to his third decade! And pour him a tall glass of water while you're at it.


The "30" hand signal...honestly, I'm amazed that HE was the one who got it right.


Serving cake.


Look, I'm a pastry chef! I'll explain about the pants another time.

New header

When you request a graphic with five random pictures, here's what you get:

1) Ham -- well, I'm a Jew. So that's some good irony for you.

2) Bodybuilding -- if I can't run, I might as well pump iron.

3) Japan -- I've never been there before.

4) Squirrels -- I'm nutz.

5) Troll -- um...I have a big belly and pink plastic hair?

At least those were my humble interpretations. I haven't yet asked the artist what they represent. But still...pretty cool, huh?

We should get matching sweatshirts.

I can hardly believe this myself, but Brad started a blog! Go check him out. He's actually a pretty great writer (and designer...or at least handy with the Photoshop, unlike yours truly. He did promise today to make me a cool graphic for Five New Things).

I admit, I'm feeling a bit competitive right now. I cannot let my own husband upstage me in the blogging world! But I'm gonna pimp him out anyway. :)

Retraction

Brad just read my blog and told me that the "I love you" balloon came separately from the cactus. It was $1.99 plus tax.

My future baby daddy

I'm having a little bit of a stressful week, to say the least -- and it's only Tuesday. I came home today from a very, very, very long day to see this:



It's hard to tell from the picture, but it's a small cactus with badly glued-on plastic flowers in a pot that still has the $6.99 Kroger price tag and UPC symbol on it. And before you ask, the $6.99 was for the entire package -- including the mylar balloon on a stick. And no, Brad isn't really that cheap (at least not most of the time). He just knows how to make me laugh.

Sorry, ladies...this one's taken. :)

Opposites attract!

Knowing what you know about me -- in other words, I'm preppy, I'm corporate, and I dislike most movies without Ben Stiller in them -- does it weird you out that I'm married to a guy who brings too-bizarre-for-theater horror movies to local cinemas?

Yes, in spite of my expensive bike shorts and collared shirts, my sweet husband is an uber-hip artsy person with a love for horror movies. In addition to his multiple extra-curricular projects, Brad and his friends have put together a wacky movie night that's getting a lot of press (the Detroit Free Press did an article on the event, too, but no photo). Their movie night debuts tonight.

Part of me feels guilty for staying home, but I asked Brad last night if I should go to support him -- and he very kindly told me I would probably hate not one, but both movies in the double feature. Plus, I'm really swamped with work anyway, and bringing a laptop into a horror movie is probably considered poor taste.

But despite our differences, I'm so proud of my man for everything he does, including spending all of his current "free" time editing a full-length vampire movie. So baby, if you're reading this -- I love you and you rock! But don't come home too late. :)

(By the way, despite the fact that the article calls my husband a "writer and filmmaker," let me assure you that homeboy has a 40 -- well, more like 55 -- hour-a-week "real" job. I'm all about following your dreams, but not at the expense of buying your wife shiny things. Er, paying the water bill.)

Travel games

When I travel for fun, I always try to go places I've never been before. The actual destination doesn't matter as much as the fact that I'm exploring brand-new territory.

I have truly strange ways of classifying "brand-new territory." In the U.S., entire states are grouped together. For instance, I've been to New York City many times - so Buffalo is out as a chosen vacation destination. Miami? Sorry, we have cousins in Tampa and Gainesville.

For non-U.S. travels, I count entire countries. Mexico, for instance. Been there, loved it, don't wanna go back. Traveling back to Europe doesn't have a ton of appeal for me, but if I do go again, I'm skipping right over the room-temperature beer in England.

And strangely enough, in my weird little head game, stopovers count. Like, I've never BEEN to Mississippi, but I've driven through it. And I've never hung out in Texas, but six hours in DFW was enough to check it off my list.

The same goes for living situations. I'm all, "why would you want to move back home? You've already LIVED there!"

I am by no means a snob about traveling. I like going anywhere and everywhere - I would gladly take a trip to North Dakota, just to say I've done it. I just have this weird thing about not repeating my destinations. Deep down, I think it's because I travel competitively (just like I do everything else in my life). I want to say I've been MORE PLACES than anyone else I know. And I don't know a ton of people who have been to North Dakota.

So Brad and I are trying to plan out our vacation schedule for the rest of the year. We're going to Boston in August for Al and Emily's wedding (I've been there twice) and Gainesville in December for Christmas (been to Florida about 15 times), so we figured planning a nice long weekend around our anniversary would be a nice way to space out the two trips. Our anniversary destination only has two requirements: direct flights (after my luggage fiasco in Dallas, I'm avoiding layovers 'til the end of time), plane tickets for less than $200 apiece, and somewhere we can have a ridiculous amount fun over a three-day weekend. Oh, and it has to be somewhere that I've never been.

This is how our conversation went this morning.

Me: "Honey, Vegas sounds fun and all...but you know what would be even more fun?"

Brad: "What?"

"....Minneapolis."

"Um, sweetie? Minneapolis? Like Mall of America Minneapolis? Instead a city where you can drink margaritas on the sidewalk?"

"Minneapolis-SAINT PAUL. The twin cities. They're twins! Doesn't that sound really, really cool?"

Yeah...I'm crazy like that. Still, though...one way or another, I have a feeling there's a giant mall in our future.

Crazy week!

The Planned Parenthood event was a success! Well, we don't know the final tally yet, but the room was crowded and a lot of people signed up and paid at the last minute. Things were looking a little dicey for awhile, but we all did a lot of major last-minute promoting (begging?), and it seemed to work. Most importantly, people had a great time, and lots of great conversations were started about sexual health. Leah Bonnema had the room in stitches, the food was awesome, and with two drink tickets, you can't go wrong. I left last night with a warm-and-fuzzy feeling -- so glad I decided to volunteer for this organization and there are so many people out there who are willing to support us. Next event: Get Down For Choice on the 26th.

On another note, Brad officially wins the title of "world's best husband" this week. I realize it's my birthday week (it's so great when it falls on a Wednesday, because you get to claim TWO weekends!), but since Saturday, he's done the following: seen a band he doesn't really like, gone to dinner with my family, watched a feminist comedian tell jokes about ball glitter, walked around with a sticker emblazoned "SUPPORT WOMENS' HEALTH," and made two solo trips to Jo-Ann Fabrics for my knitting supplies. Did I mention he has to drop me off at the airport at 4:45 a.m. tomorrow (and I would definitely not classify him as an early riser)? Not one complaint about any of it. I don't know how much I can milk this birthday business, but yeah, I'm a pretty lucky girl. :)