Monday, February 28, 2011

stressful weekends & sleepy husband logic

This weekend was awful. A-w-f-u-l.

I had to bring my work home all weekend and the tests that I was running kept giving me problems. The tests also gave one of my coworkers problems while she did work at home too, so I had to coordinate with her/our boss via text, email, and phone calls to try to determine what the heck was going on. We didn't reach a resolution so that dark cloud is still hanging over my head.

Then I couldn't even get near completing my tissue engineering homework because I have no idea what is going on in that class. After numerous hours of failed attempts EVERY day of my weekend I finally threw in the towel and accepted that I would be getting pretty much a 0 on this assignment. Luckily, I have one of the most reasonable professors in the universe and she emailed our class saying she was postponing its due date until tomorrow so we can come to office hours today (apparently I wasn't the only one struggling). Now I just need to convince my boss to let me leave work early today to go to her office hours.

Then there was the more packing and moving situation. I love going to the new apartment but with everything else I had going on this weekend it was overwhelming. Plus, when we got there we saw the kitchen light fixture had fallen down and cracked (it was plastic) so now we need to replace it. So irritating.

Finally, to top it all off, we had a rare February thunderstorm last night. We awoke to a massive BOOM around 12:21 am (I looked at my phone when it happened). Jon jumped out of bed and yelled, "WAS THAT A BOMB???" So cute. But the repeated BOOMs the remainder of the night left little sleep to be had.

I just gotta remind myself that life could be so much worse. The silver lining is all this stress/moving is helping my diet along nicely--I am within 5 pounds of my goal!

Friday, February 25, 2011

learning to be [happily] married

Before marriage, Jon and I never lived together. We both lived in Chicago at one point, but he lived in Lincoln Park (Cubs territory) and I lived in Bridgeport (White Sox territory). When we first got engaged I was a junior in college. My parents all but begged us to wait until I graduated to get married. My mom's reasoning was that marriage is a huge transition and to get married while trying to finish undergrad would be particularly challenging... and she didn't want my studies to suffer from that. Not entirely unreasonable.

I knew that once we got married there would be struggles. I didn't know, though, how intense our struggles would be, especially in the very beginning.

The honeymoon was great, but literally the night we got home, I realized that "the honeymoon was over." We fought one of our most epic battles--I'm not even sure what about at this point. I just remember the overwhelming despair I felt during that fight: this is permanent. I can't just run to my parents' house when things like this happen. We have to calmly sit down and work through it. I hated that realization. I am notorious for running the second things get tough. Conflict affects me physically in some really awful ways (stomach aches to boot) so I have lived most of my life attempting to avoid it. The first three or four months of marriage were tough. Don't get me wrong, 95% of the time Jon and I got along great and learned how to work through things such as laundry and dishes, but 5% of the time it was a war zone. We both consistently felt like the other didn't care about our feelings when arguing. Eventually we finally found some middle ground and things got much better during our occasional tiffs, but we were still far from reasonable.

For about months five through seven of our marriage things were great. We managed to avoid conflict on the whole. I realized that I am the neat freak of the two of us so I should have more cleaning responsibilities because messes really don't bother Jon. He realized that he could help out in other areas that he may have neglected before. It worked well.

Then spring semester started and our lives erupted into chaos. The fighting was becoming a daily event and it was really just a continuation of the first fight we had. We couldn't come to a resolution or a compromise. We both felt belittled and like our voices weren't being heard. We sought counsel from the pastor who married us because we both respect and trust his advice. After meeting with him for a few hours, I felt a million times closer to Jon. We were able to air our grievances and be humbled by a totally impartial third-party who offered us a lot of wisdom. Great, right? Wrong. I felt like a failure. I felt like our marriage failed because we had to seek advice so early on. Jon reassured me that this was important and necessary given how stubborn we both are, and I know in my heart he was right. But for a few days I just felt horrible and ashamed. At the time I didn't want anyone to know we needed marital counseling less than a year into marriage.

However, as time has passed, I see how divine that intervention was. God really worked on our hearts and helped strengthen our marriage through that meeting. Now I can't even remember the last time we fought (or at least not an epic battle fight). We both consider each other's feelings much more now, especially during a disagreement. We are both more patient with one another and are less adamant about being right and "winning." And let's face it, in a huge MMA type match, no one really wins. We both walk away bruised and ashamed. So if I have to give any newlyweds advice it's to seek counsel if you can't resolve conflict on your own. It will save you a lot of heartache and there is no shame in asking for help.

And to both sets of our parents who encouraged us to wait: thank you. I'm not sure how I would have been able to finish school if we had to deal with some of the early issues we did.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

the reality of death

Call me morbid, but I have this inescapable fear that Jon is going to die young. I think this fear stems from the fact that until recently I had a pretty sheltered life from death: my last relative to pass away was a much older cousin that passed when I was about 6 or 7.

However, I recently read the blog of Brad, a man in our church whose wife was in a coma for about ten days until she passed away. They are young--early thirties at most, with two young children. And in the blink of an eye, he lost is wife. His partner, best friend, and soul mate (the depth of their love is apparent in his posts). That made death so real to me: it had never occurred to me that someone so young and healthy could leave so soon. And with that realization came a depth of concern: what if something similar should happen to Jon? What if I lose him before we even hit our 1 year wedding anniversary mark? Before children? Before retirement? The mere thought makes me misty.

The only good thing that has come from this inescapable anxiety is the fact that I truly appreciate every second I spend with Jon. My favorite part of the day is when I get to crawl into bed with him and talk about our day which is often filled with laughter and joy at finally being reunited. All of the sensations of our time together: the way my head fits so perfectly on his shoulder, the way my arms fit around his torso, the way he looks and smells... I savor every second. I take it all in. Because who knows what tomorrow could bring.

I so desperately hope that all of my fears are misplaced. I hope that Jon and I have over half a century of marriage under our belts before one of us is called Home. But in the event that doesn't happen, I am so grateful and blessed for the time we did get to spend together. I could look back on my life and know that however incomplete it will be without my best friend I at least got 9 months or 9 years or however long with him. I wish death didn't have to leave those left behind feeling so empty.

Monday, February 21, 2011

one of those parents

Our Sunday school class recently spent several weeks discussing parenting Biblically. Jon and I are the only married-without-children couple in the class, but we approached these Sundays as a great learning tool/forum to address how we intend to parent... one day.

And it quickly became very clear to us that our children are going to be known as those children in the church. You know, the kids that no other parent wants their kids to be friends with. Apparently Jon and I have a pretty radical parenting perspective.

One of our biggest action items as parents is to not forbid our kids from being friends with nonbelievers. Jon and I firmly believe that 99.9% of evangelism is ineffective if one does not have a personal relationship with the person they are evangelizing to. What better way for our kids to spread the Word than by being friends with children who are previously unexposed to it?

Furthermore, once our children are old enough to stay home alone, we will give them the choice about whether or not they want to continue attending church. We desperately want them to have a personal relationship with Christ, but the reality is God gave each and every one of us a choice. Who, as mere human parents, are we to challenge God's will? We will do everything we can to guide them, but the only way for them to develop a sustained relationship with God is for them to make that decision on their own.

Finally, we will not force them to wear certain clothes. Obviously we will have an overall say in how they dress--I am not letting my daughters out of the house with half of their boobs hanging out or my sons with underpants falling over the top of their jeans--but within reason they will have free range. After all, Jon and I both grew up naked the first half of our lives (who likes clothes, anyway?) and I had a mother who let me go to Christmas Eve service at church dressed like this:
Gram gave me this as an early Christmas present. Princess Jasmine.
I know our parenting style will change when we actually become parents. I also know parenting depends on the personality of the children. My mom said it is always easy to say what kind of parent you'll be before you actually become one. She's probably right. Time will tell... eventually.

Friday, February 18, 2011

a child with issues

In an earlier post I mentioned struggling with bouts of depression and the worst perfectionism you will probably ever encounter in a six-year-old. To give you a better idea of what amazing parents I have (I have no idea how they survived 18 years of me) and to demonstrate the faithfulness of Christ/just how far I've come since birth, I decided to share my story.

For as long as I can remember I had issues. Attachment issues to my mom--I was convinced if I wasn't with her everywhere she went something bad would happen to her. Something really, really bad. Sleeping issues--I've been told that my first couple of years I didn't sleep at all (a sleep clinic told my parents I just required little sleep) and I was too scared to sleep in my own room until about age 10. I'm not exactly sure where this fear stemmed from or how I overcame it, but one day I think I just did. Anxiety issues (which can be tied to attachment and perfectionism issues)--I once woke up in the middle of the night and realized I forgot to check the weather the day before for my 3rd grade science project. I sobbed, wailed, and was up pretty much the rest of the night worrying about it. Another time, I woke up in the middle of the night and realized my mom wasn't in her bed. I sat up crying for a decent amount of time until she came back upstairs--she was doing dishes because she couldn't sleep. One of the worst things, though, was my perfectionism. I would force my parents to check my homework, especially math, about two or three times. If I messed a problem up I would punish myself. Punishments included banging my head against a wall or hitting myself with a hairbrush until I bled. Keep in mind I was in elementary school and entirely unaware of things like self mutilation. To this day I don't know where I picked it up. I believe my experience with self harming gives merit to the fact that self harmers truly find comfort in their injury and that it isn't just a sympathy ploy (as I've heard many times before). My mom was no Tiger Mom by any means. In fact, her motto was "do your best and I will be happy, even if your best is an F." So I'm not entirely sure where my perfectionism issues stemmed from.

As a result of my struggles, I met with a counselor at least once a month. I did art therapy and actually enjoyed it, but as I got older I realized I never actually discussed any of my issues with the therapist. Once I hit middle school and my hormones were going insane I developed some severe depression issues. This time on my own accord I sought out the therapist. I actively searched for the help and shared some of my problems. And that definitely helped me.

When I was in 9th grade I would have been devastated to get a B (and I was when I got my first B ever- gasp). How far I've come since then. Grades are still a struggle with me because often times I feel like my grades don't reflect my knowledge on a subject. I am still a notoriously poor test taker and I think this stems from some of my ever persistent anxiety issues. But I'm coping with things better. I have an encouraging husband who has learned that when I'm upset about a test grade there are no words to make it better. He knows to just hold me and let me cry and be frustrated with my inability to convey my knowledge to professors. And at the end of the day, once the crying is out of my system, I move on. I don't dwell like I used to. I don't beat the tar out of myself. I am able to step back and realize that a C on one test is not going to destroy my future. It is not a reflection of who I am as a person.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

an indian summer in the middle of winter

There is something about arriving at work when it's actually daylight and highs in the 50s in the middle of February that is just good for the soul. Yesterday I actually took a lunch break and spent my 30 minutes sitting in the sun, soaking in every moment while the temperatures stay this way... because sure enough, come Saturday, we drop back into the 30s. I fully intend on taking a lunch break today, too. Hopefully the 5-day forecast stays this way because Jon and I are moving some items into our new apartment over the coming days and it would be lovely to do so without the need for mittens.

Spring is on its way (regardless of whether it takes another 1-3 months to get here) and I am ever so anxiously awaiting its arrival! Do me a favor - get off your computer and go outside!



Wednesday, February 16, 2011

be still and know that they won't lie to you

Today I rediscovered one of my favorite bands: Underoath. Many of you have heard of them and those that you haven't will probably wish you never had if you listen to a few of their songs (I'm looking at you, Dad, who always mocked the screamo music I listened to in the car with you and would ask every. single. time. how they didn't have laryngitis).

Underoath has always been close to my heart and I am particularly fond of their Lost in the Sound of Separation album.Their lyrics are just so raw and resonate with (in my opinion) my [Christian] generation... especially those of us who have found ourselves at a crossroads where we just didn't know what we believed. Let's be honest: attending a secular school with all of this evidence of evolution being thrown at you, it's easy to step back and question everything you were brought up believing. It's easy to get lost in the sound of separation (ha).

I'm not entirely fond of the screaming that goes down in Underoath's albums, but the catchy lyrics, melodic guitar riffs, and soothing sound of the lead singer's voice when he is actually singing mesmerizes me. In light of some stuff that went down during my middle school years, I have failed to doubt the existence of my Creator since 8th grade. That doesn't mean I don't step back often and notice all of my failures and shortcomings, especially for someone who claims to know Christ. I am consistently being renewed and most of the time I really try be better. To do better. This is one of those times. Let's hope this mentality sticks.


Write down my thoughts and read me my rights
Repeat, repeat, repent and repeat
The cycle never really ends
Til they admit that it's real
Everything, everything is leaving me wondering
I hate that I'm questioning everything, everything
This is how it seems to me
I've drowned myself in self-regret
This is how I wanna be
This can't be how I wanna be
This is spinning perfect little circles
And that's all that they know

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

sweet home ligonier

It is with great pleasure that I stand here before you, proclaiming that I attended summer camp from 5th grade through 9th grade. Yes, I was one of those kids. I even worked there one summer as a counselor-in-training (CIT) and that was arguably one of the best summers of my life:

Camper arrival day with my counselor and co-counselor!
Disclaimer: Those of you who have never been a camper will probably not be able to relate to this post. As confirmed by an NPR broadcast I heard a while back.

The CITs put on a skit for the campers for Night at the Theater. Yes, I was Death.
Ligonier Camp provided me a refuge away from the glares and sneers of my middle school peers at a time when I quite literally had no friends. Not 1. Zilch. Having suffered bouts of depression, anxiety, and the most intense perfectionism you will probably ever encounter in a six-year-old, Ligonier was the only thing I looked forward to during the year. It kept my focus during days when I had to walk down the halls by myself or heard the other kids making fun of me. It gave me hope. Not to mention it was incredibly fun and provided me with at least one relationship that has lasted to this day.

Tribe 11: My last summer as a camper. And it was my best summer as a camper.
It makes me sad when I think about the fact that I will probably never work at/obviously not be a camper at Ligonier ever again. In college I desperately tried to arrange my finances so that I could be a counselor, but unfortunately it just wasn't possible. Jon and I even considered spending our first married summer as counselors there, but decided that probably wasn't in the best interest of our marriage. I'm still holding out hope that maybe one day we could be camp directors, live on the property, and spend every waking second there. Jon said he would love that. I think he's telling the truth.

CITs rehearsing for our silly skit. Kitchen vs. KYBO (you wouldn't know unless you went to Ligonier)
For those of you who have kids of the summer camp age, I highly recommend sending them. Camp was a challenge, but still a blast, and the genuine relationships and learning about Christ that went on there were unmatched in my youth. What I would give to go back in time just to relive some of my fonder camp memories even for just an hour.

Team building exercises with the other CITs on our first day together.

Monday, February 14, 2011

we loved with a love that was more than love

Two years ago today, Jon popped the question. I'm guessing some of you ladies are gasping in horror and remarking how cheesy that is, but you don't know my Jon. I would expect no less from him - he is a true romantic and I like Valentine's Day! I think it is a good way to remind couples that they need to really be grateful for what they have in their partner. I can enjoy Valentine's Day without making a huge deal out of it. In fact, Jon and I forgot today was Valentine's Day (we celebrated a week ago as a combined celebration for our 4 year dating anniversary) until we saw someone's Facebook status about it this morning.

Anyway, our friends Heather and Paul were in town since at that time we both lived in Chicago. On Valentine's Day, Paul and Jon went to go buy Paul jeans, so Heather and I headed over to Molly's Cupcakes for a girl date. We spent a good three hours there catching up over some very delicious cupcakes. When we arrived back at Jon's apartment, Heather turned on the light. I noticed Paul hiding on the floor under a blanket. He promptly made his signature facial expression, clicked a button, and all the regular lighting turned into black lighting. There was Jon with a goofy/nervous grin and a shirt that said WILL YOU on it. He quickly tore that one off and another one was on underneath that said MARRY ME? I freaked out. I'm not sure if I actually said yes. I think I nodded my head excitedly. To make matters even more wonderful, Jon had remembered back in the day when I made a remark that I would love to have my wedding proposal on tape one day so I would always have a visual reminder of the moment. He remembered:


Video can also be seen on my actual Youtube page (here). Happy Valentine's Day!

Friday, February 11, 2011

all things adoption

I actually hesitate writing this due to the anxiety I'm sure it will cause some of our closest family and friends, but alas, it's on our heart and we have nothing to hide.

Jon and I have seriously been considering foster parenting and adoption. Not yet, but eventually. I have always had a heart for adoption--before I even met Jon I had wanted to adopt a little girl from Cambodia (Cambodia is notorious for their child sex trade, and adoption would be my small way of fighting that). However, I have since researched it and Americans are not allowed to adopt Cambodian children. My guess is it has to do with the fact that it is often Americans who travel there to abuse children, so this is Cambodia's way of protecting their citizens from being brought back to America to be abused.

Anyway, Jon and I have been discussing it a lot lately. His heart is for a domestic adoption, and my heart is still in an international place. We have also discussed foster parenting, though, and this is something we have been considering. We're at least a few years away from this because in the state of Ohio you have to take pre-service classes which are offered in the evenings and we clearly can't make that time commitment yet. However, we will keep our ears to the ground and our thoughts to the sky to see what direction God is calling us--what level of service, if any, He wants us to provide for the orphaned children of this country.

We know the risks involved. We've heard the horror stories about foster children threatening the safety of their foster families. We know how difficult it would be, as many foster children have deep emotional insecurities and tend to lash out. But that does not mean God can't provide us with the strength and wisdom we would need to be loving, patient, and adequate foster parents. We refuse to put God in a box like that if this is truly His will for us. And who knows, maybe in our continued time of prayer over the coming months God will change our hearts and let us know Hey, this isn't really what I have cut out for you two. But in the meantime, we continue to research and pray. Every child deserves a loving and safe home, and we can provide that. Why wouldn't we want to try?

Thursday, February 10, 2011

honeymoons don't last forever

All of this cold, snowy weather and anxiety from school and apartment hunting has led me to one conclusion: Can we please go back to our honeymoon again? Okay, more a question than a conclusion, but humor me.

For our honeymoon, Jon and I drove to Chincoteague, VA and stayed at the cutest bed & breakfast I think I've ever seen. It was called The Garden and Sea Inn and couldn't have been more perfect for our, ahem, purposes. The suite we stayed in had a private entrance and a private bathroom, so we were able to experience the first few days as husband and wife without hearing someone in the room over or feeling like someone in the room over was listening to us.
The bed portion of the room
Not to mention the breakfast part of the bed and breakfast was hands down the most delicious breakfast I think I've ever had. The innkeepers are a German husband and wife duo and exceptionally friendly. It was the wife who prepared our breakfast in the morning. All breakfasts included a buffet of fruit, cereal, granola, yogurt, milk, juice, and coffee, as well as one hot entrée every morning. The first day it was blueberry pancakes (made from scratch) with fresh bacon (I'm talking real, thick, melt-in-your-mouth bacon). Our second morning the entrée was a feta omelet with sausage links. The final morning was a stuffed peach French toast. I nearly forgot! Every morning she also had a different homemade bread as the "second course." Now, for those of you who know me, I'm a total foodie... and for those of you that didn't know, I think it is now apparent.
The dining room at the B&B
The moral of the story is those first three full days as husband and wife were amazing. We explored the beach, saw dolphins, wild ponies, and a variety of other wildlife.
Riding around the island
We explored old libraries,

rented a tandem bike (cheesy but so cute... this was Jon's favorite part of the honeymoon),

and stayed up late talking. It was an incredible experience and I get sad when I realize we will never have a 'first three days as husband and wife' again. I just want to run away to Chincoteague with Jon and not have to think about my medical device quiz on Tuesday or the fact that we still aren't quite sure where we'll be living come April 1. I want a vacation with my honey!

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

the attention-craving baby... sometimes

I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep for a few days now. A few nights ago it was because I stayed up for the Super Bowl, last night I just tossed and turned all night. At one point early this morning (think 4 am) I had I dream that I was meeting with a house inspector who was going to tell us the condition of an apartment we're actually checking out today.

Well, by that time, little Miss Marsala decided she needed attention. Lots of attention. Right now. Here's the thing about our baby: she craves attention, but only when it's inconvenient for us. When we want to shower her with affection she wants nothing to do with it. Often, she will decide she is ready for love between 4-5 am. How does she capture our attention? She walks right up to your face and stares at you while you're asleep. Didn't work? She will put her face right next to ours so that her whiskers tickle our cheeks. It is so. annoying.

So anyway, she was crawling all over me and meowing, all while I continued to half-dream. At one point when I was laying on my back, she was laying across my shoulder, cheek to cheek with my face. Literally her cheek pressed against mine, facing the same direction as my face. And all I could think was Stop it, Marsala. I have to listen to the inspector. Is this what it feels like to have children?

Saturday, February 5, 2011

a discouraged heart

It's probably ironic that yesterday my post was about trusting God to carry my burdens because I think I've reached the point where I am so overwhelmed by circumstances that I can't even function enough to transfer my burdens.

Jon and I have been actively searching for a new apartment. Our lease is up April 1 at our current residence and we have decided it would be better for our family to move towards Akron. We arrived at this decision because in the fall Jon will be attending college in Canton and I will continue to work/go to school in Cleveland. Akron is a good halfway point for both of us to prevent horrendous commutes.

The apartment searching process has been devastating. Everything that suits our needs (specifically: at least 2 bedrooms, washer/dryer hookup or in unit already, preferably a garage or private storage for our bicycles, etc.) is either way more than we pay now for rent or in horrendous condition. We have visited well over 7 units already and nothing feels like the right fit. Nothing. And we're running out of time because we have to give intent to vacate by March 1.

Yesterday it felt like everything was finally right: we found the perfect house for rent that exceeded all of our expectations and didn't break the budget. We had scheduled a viewing for this morning but before the end of the day yesterday the landlord called us to tell us someone had walked in and handed him a deposit for that unit. As dramatic as it sounds, soul crushing doesn't even begin to describe my discouragement. Alternatively, we went to look at another unit this man owned today. It was too small and very, very outdated (read: a bathroom with pink tiles and a blue toilet/sink basin). The main issue is we have decided that where ever we move to we want to stay at least 3-5 years. That means we may have babes during that time and we need to plan accordingly.

My heart is discouraged and my soul tired. I just want to know where we're going to live in two months! I want to know whether I need to start packing, when I need to ask beg family and friends to help us move, and where Jon should apply for a new job when his current job is outsourced to California in the beginning of March. Is that really so much to ask?

Friday, February 4, 2011

without these bricks on my back, who would i be?

Lately I've been battling pretty intense episodes of loneliness, despair, and frustration. Seeing so little of my husband is more exhausting than going from work to school to work. Not to mention the last several months of engagements, pregnancies, jobs, and education have been taking a huge toll on my friendships with several women. Jon has reassured me that this is what happens as we grow up: people change, priorities change, and therefore relationships change. It was nothing I did. It was nothing they did. It's just the way life has changed. I've never been one for change.

Last night was tough for me. I felt the pangs of loneliness more than usual. Jon does his best with me, but I often can't even explain my own emotions, so I don't blame him for not always understanding why his wife is upset. I'm sure quite a bit of it is stress. The burdens that I'm carrying are quite heavy. I have all this internalized pressure to be an A student, a superb employee, and the perfect wife. The expectations I've set for myself are admittedly next to, if not entirely, impossible, especially when adding all three together. I consistently need reminded that I don't need to carry these burdens alone, if at all. I have recently discovered (thanks to a good music-crazy friend) a band called Come Wind from the Ohio area and I have not been able to stop listening to one of their songs called Bricks. It is a reminder that I can really relate to that I don't need to carry these bricks alone. I really recommend you listen to their music, it's wonderful. Here are some of the lyrics from Bricks that really speak to me:

Should you move or stay frozen in fear of action?
You've never been more nervous than when He is near
Oh you want it in your mind
But you have no idea
You're even petrified
Of when He's actually here

I know you want to exchange burdens
So I wanna let you
Where does this fear come from?
Not from love, not from God
Not from you

Finally the weight begins to lift
Oh, sweet bliss
And even though you've heard they can fall, you can't imagine
Them being anywhere but exactly where they are

I have these bricks on my back
They weigh me down so much
I have to rest so often

I can't convince myself I want rid of them
Who would I be without them?
Without these bricks on my back who would I be?

Thursday, February 3, 2011

date night

The great snowstorm icestorm of 2011 provided us with an increasingly rare opportunity: date night! (kind of)

Some background: I'm starting to think we are way older than we actually are. Typically, I go to bed by 9 every night (even on weekends) and Jon joins me between 9:30-10, depending on what's captured his attention on tv (usually history channel or A&E) or on his computer (usually bicycles and Answers in Genesis). Additionally, I've become much more laid back than I used to be and would much prefer staying in and watching a movie as opposed to going out. Due to the weather, both of our classes were cancelled. This was, truthfully, a much needed break and a huge blessing. I needed one day to just mellow out in the evening. Not to mention it was nice getting home before dark! (Oh, it warmed up briefly yesterday morning and the ice became much easier to handle so I made it into work after all!) When I got home from work we loaded up into our Aerio and headed for our date night location: Burger King. I know, I know. This sounds like a combination of disgusting and pathetic. Keep in mind, though, that I have been dieting since Thanksgiving (and I have 10 pounds less on me to show for it) and we aren't exactly rolling in money at this point in our lives. Also, one of my coworkers that I share an office with had BK for his lunch yesterday so I was forced to smell the greasy goodness for FOUR HOURS. Needless to say, I quickly got in touch with Jon and all but begged for some BK for dinner.

After Burger King we spent the evening just relaxing, talking, and watching television. I forgot how nice it was to just space out for an hour or two and not have to think about anything. It was glorious.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

ice, ice baby

Last night we got hit with the first phase of Snowpocalpyse 2011. We persuaded our professors to let us out early (and he thankfully obliged) because by the time I left campus around 7:15 there was already a nice coating of freezing rain on the ground.

During my drive home I saw what I thought was lightning. It only took about 5-10 more bright blue flashes to realize it was some type of electrical device (my guess is a transformer) exploding under the conditions.

By the time I made it home my university had cancelled all classes beginning at 8 pm last night and all classes today (win!). My boss texted us telling us to use our heads in the morning because of how bad the roads were last night.

Well, when i woke up this morning the main roads/highways are "slick but passable." I decided to give it a go and head in this morning. But then, when I got outside if my apartment, I was greeted by this:

Pure ice from our building door to our garage, which is 5 garages over from this one. And no railing.
I suppose my inability to safely access my vehicle (that garage that is open - not mine. Our neighbor got stranded attempting to access that garage in her attempt to get to work so I had to walk in the snow to the end of the sidewalk and extend her a hand) is for the best: even though it is above 40 degrees right now it is supposed to drop below freezing again within the next 2 hours and we will get a "flash freeze" that will make the roads "treacherous".

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

the food aversion

I have several food aversions for several reasons. Most of my food aversions are probably based on texture, color, or scent, and not so much flavor. I'm one of those weird types of people. Some of my food aversions:

Two words: fish sticks.

Anything seafood makes me nauseous
One of Jon's favorite lunch "meats". Can't stand the sight.
On this topic, yesterday in class I was particularly tired so I opted to buy a medium non-fat latte. It was a great decision at first, but by the time I finished it I felt completely nauseous.

Here's the thing about my body: I am always nauseous (generally speaking) and my nausea can be attributed to:
-being hungry
-eating too late in the day
-eating too much
-being stressed
-being anxious
-being excited

Therefore, it is really hard for me to discern what the cause may be. Well, the nausea lasted well through the night, waking me up a couple of times (to the point where I had trash can in hand, ready to blow). It also continued through my insane 1.5 hour commute today to right now. Every time I type the word 'latte' I gag. I'm not sure if I'm suddenly lactose intolerant (it just feels like none of the latte has been digested; it feels like it's just hanging out in my belly!) or if my body is just not used to so much dairy since I began dieting. Either way, I have a new item to add to my food aversion list: