Murphy wishes he could give you all a candy cane but there isn't enough sugar in the world, so a picture of my darling with a candy cane will have to suffice. He also got a new hump blanket from Grandma {SHOWN HERE}, specifically for that purpose, but hopefully in the next few weeks he won't need it, hint hint, snip snip. We had a fabulous Christmas Eve in G-Rap and are now en route to B-Hills to celebrate with my fam. Hope your day is merry merry and that you are surrounded by people you love!

Just a sampling of his nicknames: Murph-a-lurph, Meeestah Muuuphay, Doodie Butt, Dar (short for darling), Little Turkey, Sir Humps-a-Lot, My Precious.

Buying A House

Everyone thinks Buying A House is the Best Thing Ever.  (Yes, capitalization required.) No noisy people upstairs or downstairs! Don't have to pay for laundry! Your own yard!

 

Yes, all of those things are wonder-wonder-wonderful, however, there are some pitfalls (hmmm… strangely, most are related to… MONEY!) that, had I truly thought about, might have changed my mind to buy a house.

 

Note: since talking about money and junk is supposedly taboo, and I strictly conform to social norms (ha-ha), I will round up numbers to nice-and-even figures, to keep from being tacky.

 

Here are some of the LAME aspects of owning a home:

 

·         Not-so-hidden "hidden" fees – I like to think of these as "oh yeah, I knew about that, but I truly didn't get it until I was like "OMG WHERE DID MY MONEY GO?"

o   Taxes – ahem. Okay, yeah, I knew I had to pay taxes on my house. I got it. I knew there were charts somewhere with lines and lines of size 6 font showing different percentages and millages (still don't know what that means) and what not. Being an out-of-practice engineer, I shouldn't have been afraid of those charts, but oh, I was.

§  Taxes suck. We pay over 2% of the value of our house in taxes. That sounds so lame and puny, little old 2%, until you multiply that by a couple hundred thousand dollars. That's an extra (rounding!) $5000 a year that we weren't paying last year. Heartburn!

o   Insurance. Alright, I understand the need for insurance. I have no problem paying insurance. I love insurance. Insurance loves me. Technically, that's only because I (THANK GOD) haven't had to file a claim yet, only to be denied, but ahh, let's not get ahead of ourselves. But, insurance is another one of those things that, when meeting with a realtor, they never include in their pricing. For instance, you walk into a realtor's office, and say "I want to spend $x a month on a house. Show me houses I can afford." Well, the realtor will show you houses whose house payment will be $x, not including house payment + insurance + taxes. I know those are all different things, but they usually get rolled into the mortgage payment. For instance, on top of my house payment, it's another $1500 a year to insure my house, but this I will gladly pay.

§  PMI taxes – omg this suckkkksssss so much. Basically I pay $1500 a year for my mortgage company to be insured against me, should I decide to stop paying them. SAH-WEET.  SIKE!  Heartburn.

o   Home-Owners Association

§  Some bullshit about "snow removal" and "uniform mailboxes" – whatever! There goes $750 a year I could have spent on a new wardrobe – thanks to you, I'm wearing sweaters from the Old Navy 2003 line (so vogue!) and pants that are, ahem, tight (of the muffin-top variety – there, I said it!)

·         Maintenance

o   A lawn to mow? No thanks.

o   Sprinklers to maintain? Wait, I have to PAY SOMEONE twice a year to "turn them on" and "turn them off"? BULLSCHNITZ.

o   That thing I drive up every day – I have to SHOVEL IT when it snows?  Gross.  Also, rude!

·         If it's big, you have to clean it. Dust WILL magically appear on every surface, and yes, you WILL find random weird stains in bathrooms that are never even used. Perhaps it's from the ghosts of past owners, but don't tell Nick that because I have the feeling he's not too keen on having ghosts in our house. I'm kinda okay with it, but I digress.

·         If it's small, you might as well live in an apartment.

·         Total annual "not-so-hidden" costs: $8750 a year (about 0.35% of my heart just died) – amazing! Amazingly disgusting.

 

So, in an effort to not have this be 100% negative, I will list a couple of pros for my gentle readers:

·         Supposedly you get money back come tax season? I don't know the deets, but, like, someone PLEASE tell me Uncle Sam is going to give me thousands of dollars in February. That would make for an AWESOME Valentine's Day.

·         You can decorate however you want. For instance, tacky brass light fixtures? (All throughout my house… shudder.) AWAY WITH THEIR HEADS! Oh wait, that costs MONEY. Anyone have $8750 I can borrow?

·         You can do laundry in your skivvies. This is a stretch in terms of a pro. But – since you have laundry in your own home, you can do it (or, do it) without clothes on. Oh wait, this is getting a tad too dirty for my tastes… nevermind.

·         You will lose a TON of weight on your new diet consisting of rice, half-off meatballs, and tap-water.

 

Happy House-Hunting, My Friends!

 

 

Murphy is so head-over-heels in love with his Papa that he'll lay in sight of the bathroom sink while Nick brushes his teeth. This is capital C cute. In other dog-related news, Murphy learned to lay down on command in Puppy Kindergarten tonight. This was a Week 2 lesson but he finally learned today, in Week 5. Poor darling! He doesn't even know he's behind.

It's Not Just Me, Right?

Is it just me, or is anyone else freaking the f out about the economy right now? I just read on cnn.com that today, between 4-5 different companies, they announced lay-offs of over 20,000 people.

 

Um, excuse me, but that's a shit-ton of people. That's an entire college campus of kids who won't get jobs. That's an entire suburb, all without income. 20,000 is a gross amount. And none of these were automotive-related... so sure, when you compare it to the hundreds-of-thousands of jobs that have been lost in Michigan alone (stomach = lurch + flop) it's wee in size but yet, still humongous in size.

 

I can't help but get into my Recession Lindsay mode, as my husband likes to call it. For instance: the other night, dinner consisted of leftover hamburger buns, topped with cheese, and a dinged can of soup. Nick literally laughed when I put the food in front of him (don't I sound so domestic?  No, I did not tuck in his napkin, he did that himself.) and dubbed it Recession Lindsay Dinner.

 

Another prime example: we're at a basketball game last night (free tickets won at work - heavens no I wouldn't buy tickets when we're in a recession!) and the beer! soda! peanuts! guy comes by. I catch a glimpse of his inventory and gasp audibly at his sign. $8.00 for a 22 oz beer. Nick gets up at halftime to use the loo, and comes back looking sullen. "I was going to get a beer and some nachos but the line was too long."

 

"A beer!? For $8!? I could buy a 6-pack - a fancy 6-pack mind you - for $8 at Busch's! They should be selling you a beer for $1.50, $2 tops!" He just laughed it off, but I was serious! 

 

OMG - when did I turn into such a cheapie????

December First

Gah! I’m always late. I wrote this on Dec. 1 but forgot to “publish”. So here it is, a woeful eight days late. Better late than never…

 

Dec. 1 is a big day for a few reasons:

 

It’s the day Rosa Parks remained seated in her seat after a day’s work, and got up for no one. Wow. Think about that. While most of us weren’t living at this time, the fact that we lived in a time when Rosa was still alive is even huge. When we learned about her in social studies, she wasn’t like most of the other people we learned about because she was still around. There wasn’t a whole lot of modern day history that I can remember learning about where the subjects were still alive, and even as a school kid I found that to be really interesting.

 

It’s also World Aids Day. So, here’s something to think about, taken from www.statenews.com on a story about World Aids Day:

 

According to data from LAAN (Lansing Area AIDS Network), half of new HIV infections happen to people 25 years old or younger. Estimates say there are about 18,000 people in Michigan with HIV or AIDS.

 

That number is way too high. 50% of infections are happening in my age bracket? I know it shouldn’t be happening in ANY age bracket, but it’s just astounding to me because we’re the generation that grew up learning about HIV/AIDS and how to prevent it. I think kids don’t even consider it, to be honest. My guess is people worry more about pregnancy or other STDs when they are unprotected. The number is just frightening to me, and I really hope it resonates to the people who read it in the State News. It’s just not worth the risk!!!! Yes, four exclamation points!!!!

Thanksgiving Revisited

Today, on my day off, I am feeling like a house-wife. Don't tell anyone, but I actually don't mind it. For today, anyway. I did some dishes, cooked a nice breakfast (shared it with my husband), and tidyied up the kitchen. All without fuss! Actually, perhaps a little fan-fare.

I've read through all of the nienie dialogues, which are inspiring to say the least. Which has also pointed me to cjane's website, which is equally a treat to read. They've both been added to my daily blog readings, and give good inspiration for making a festive home.

So, for one, I'm thankful for good reads on the internet.

Secondly, going along with the house-wife theme, I'm thankful for my kitchen goodie drawer.

In it contains all that is needed for a weekend (and Monday day-off) of gluttony. I made a lot of recipes from my favorite websites... such as Nie Nie's Whole Wheat Pizza, this awesome salsa from Mighty Girl's suggestion, in addition to The Pioneer Woman's cheese muffins (omg), and (okay, a little embarassed to admit this one) Dottie's baked french toast (she's a Weight Watcher site guru, I wouldn't necessarily call her a blogger... but surfer beware: that site is full of ads and isn't aesthitically pleasing to the eye...)

Anyway, back to the goody drawer. Among my favorites: citrus zester, cheese grater, potato peeler, and my #1Fav: the mojito masher. Ah. Bliss.

I'm also thankful to Mr. Murphy, who has been a complete gentleman on my day off. I had visions of my pup running around ferally, wreaking havoc in the house, humping my leg, and all around annoying me on my day off. I considered taking him to Puppy Day Care, but in the end, Recession Lindsay won and I didn't justify the $25. He's been so mellow today, so I thank him!

Here's a recent picture of our little guy. We bought that little bed for him when he was a wee one, and at the time it was the perfect size for him. He could snuggle up right in it and have room to wiggle. The best part is that he still balls up into position and lays on it... but looks like a fat guy in a little coat. You know what I mean? No offense, little guy, but you're totally reminding me of Farley.

Now I'm going to finish lounging around on my day off... I'm watching wedding shows on the style channel, wishing I could get married again! Ahhh, to dream... (to Nick of course!)

Murphy moonlights as a reindeer during the Christmas season.

LAME!

So, being from Detroit, obviously the whole "Big Three Bailout" strikes a chord with me and I'm trying to absorb information regarding the situation. When the CEOs were chastized for flying their corporate jets to Washington D.C. at tens of thousands of dollars, I was pissed just as much as everyone else. No one wants to give a beggar with a gold tooth any food. (Is that not P.C.? Oops. Perhaps the beggar got his gold tooth in a V.A. hospital after 'Nam. Oops, STILL not P.C.?!)

 

Anyway, so when I read this article http://www.mlive.com/newsflash/index.ssf?/base/news-59/1228254256140090.xml&storylist=newsmichigan I became a bit more preturbed. Now these guys are going the extreme and driving to D.C.?  Come on, give me a break. I mean, good job for at least learning a lesson, but really? I think this is wasteful. The time these guys are spending to make a 10+ hour drive could be better spent, really. I know they're trying to make a point, but does it annoy anyone else when people go totally overboard when doing so?

 

-Lindsay

Why Can't Every Day Be Like Thanksgiving Weekend?

I had such high hopes for Thanksgiving break.  Clean out the spare bedroom that's housing piles and piles of crap, wash the floors, do at least 5 loads of laundry, start wrapping Christmas presents, put up the tree + decorations, walk the dog every day, grocery shop for healthy items to consume, consume said healthy food items, manicure/pedicure, shave my legs (um, going on 2 months?), and spend quality time with Nick.

 

Instead, here's what I did:  spent quality time with my couch, and the hit television show "24"; spent quality time with pints of ice cream; took my dog to the front door, where I held the leash from the inside, only cracking the door to give him more slack; spent loads and loads of quality time with the internet.  The I went to sleep for eight hours and did it all over again.  Then times that by four.  There you have it: my weekend.

Today, I am thankful for...

My Family

And My Family

And My Friends

And My Noble Home

Remember this?

Well look at me now!

Personal Rate of Return from 01/01/2008 to 11/07/2008 is -50.7%

Investing is FUN!!

I love road trips! Love, Murphy.

Wah-Wah Moment # 124, 150, and 151.

I have a busy mid-week evening that involves running errands, cleaning the kitchen, and playing with the puppy. I barely have time to sit down and waste away my night on the computer or watching t.v.  This is a good thing, because that's usually how I spend my nights. Sad but true story. After my version of "running around like crazy" (which includes only the three things mentioned in the first sentance) I call it a night. 

 

At work the next morning, I get excited to hop onto gmail really quickly before starting my day. "Oh, I didn't get to my computer last night at ALL, I can't wait to see what's there for me today!"  I log in, and there isn't one new message.  Not even a WorldPerks Mileage Summary, not even a Sephora Free Shipping with Your Next $50 Purchase!, not even a note about Crate & Barrel's new ways to dress up your Thanksgiving Day table.   Woe is me.

 

***********************************************************************

 

I sign up Mr. Murphy for Puppy Kindergarten, first off to get him a bit more behaved, secondly to allow him to socialize with other dogs, and thirdly as a quest to find my new best (local) friend. I was certain I would find my local friend soul-mate, and that we'd go get dinner afterwards and leave the dogs in the car while we chat about girl stuff, or some equally stupid friend fantasy.

 

Instead, I go to class and focus my attention on not choking my dog as he's the most maniacial one in the class, and then I have to leave class because he has to shit, and then he shits, and I go to find the shovel to pick it up, and then I can't find the shit anymore, and Murphy is running around me in circles and I'm tied up by a leash and it's getting tighter and tighter and I'm holding a shovel looking for shit in the 30-degree weather and dammit why doesn't anyone want to be my friend? And I feel kind of like a loser for thinking about it in the first place because it's like the # 1 Rule that when you want something and are actively looking for it, you won't find it until you stop looking for it, or some other stupid cliche, and why am I even still talking about this, God I need a life.

 

***********************************************************************

 

I arrive home from Puppy Kindergarten, kind of over my whole episode about wanting to find a friend and feeling like I failed miserably, and I hop on the computer (lest I miss any important emails that come my way at nighttime) where I promptly waste two hours surfing blogs and what not. I ignore the puppy, further ingraining in him bad habits (took him only two minutes to chew his new leash in half while I ignored him) and ignore my husband who's upstairs watching the Pistons on his dismal non-HDTV.  Now it's late(ish) and it's dark in here and my eyes hurt from the darkness/brightness contrast of my computer in the un-lit room, and my head hurts because of caffeine withdrawl, and I'm bummed that I just wasted time on the internet instead of finishing my wedding thank-you's or reading a book or cleaning the kitchen.

 

 

OUCH!

From my 401k account…

 

Personal Rate of Return from 01/01/2008 to 11/07/2008 is -40.6%

 

Big Mistake

Big Mistake #7 - Feeding Your Puppy Hotdogs During Puppy Kindergarten.

Our Puppy Kindergarten teacher emailed me before the class started to tell us what to bring with us: a hungry puppy, a plethora of small treats to act as the reward for his "lessons", and two overly eager parents. Check, check, and check.

So we arrive with six hot dogs cut up into raisin-sized pieces, a hungry Murphy, and, well, two overly eager parents. Fast forward a day and a half later, and Murphy drops a deuce in our bathroom this morning. First time he's ever done that! We're astonished, and just chalk it up to a fluke.

Fast forward 8 hours, I arrive home after a long day at work, and there's.... evidence.... of another dropped deuce.

Fast forward... twenty minutes... and wow, that dog can clear a room with the smells coming out of his furry booty.

Nick arrives home from work, and gives me the stink eye. "Honey, what have you done??"

"It was him!" I point at the dog, and "It was her!" the dog points back at me. Nick's not sure who to believe, but in the end, Murphy rips one right in front of Nick and I win.

After some careful thought, we realize it must be from the hotdogs. And thus concludes our first Big Mistake as a married couple.

Indigo

Maybe it's the seasons changing {S.A.D.} or just the course of life's journey {omg sounds so cheesy} but I get sad when I think about friendships changing. It's inevitable, but as life progresses and people do different things, it changes your friendships. Not necessarily for the bad, of course, but still. One person gets married/buys a house/gets a puppy {me}, and settled into this new life, the things that she {err... I} thinks about and talks about and worries about and gets excited about are different from my former self. My former self who had these certain, specific friendships.  Every time you change one component of yourself, it alters the friendship accordingly.

 

In case my rhetoric isn't coming across corrently, it's time for a Stupid Metaphor!   Let's say I am Royal Blue, and my friend is Apple Red. Our friendship, together, is your Crayola Crayon Purple.  Now, I change a bit {see above paragraph} and am now Navy Blue.  My friend is still Apple Red, or even perhaps Maroon {if she herself has changed a bit} and now our friendship is a darker shade of purple. Indigo? Whatever. Doesn't matter, but I was just trying to show my point.  Purple and Indigo, while still very similar and not distinguishable by a three-year-old, are different things.

 

I don't mean to say that the second I got a ring on my finger or keys to a house, I became a different person. But over the course of this whole huge process, over the last year, I've definitely become Navy. No doubt about it. Still blue, but a different shade.

 

So, I mourn for my former Crayola Crayon Purple friendships, despite being extremely excited for this Navy Journey.  Can you be excited to move forward while still being sad about letting go of the past? I still have these wonderful friends, but I'm just learning how to get used to the new Indigos of my future.

All snuggled up on the couch with papa... Be still my heart.

Poor Mr. Murphy has to sleep in jail tonight (and every night).

I Hope They're Not BANKING On It (aka: Dumb Play On Words)

Funny Story:  So I recently got married (see: all posts below) and have gone through the process of legally changing my name. How old-fashioned!  With my new drivers license and social security card in hand, I call up my bank to ask them what documents I need to bring in order to change my name with my bank.  I’ve made that mistake too many times (wait in line at Secretary of State, only to have the wrong document in hand!) so I want to be prepared this time.  I pick up the phone.

 

“Hi, I’d like to know what documents I need to bring with me to change my name on my bank account?”

 

“Yes ma’am, not a problem, we can take care of that for you.  All you need to do is stop by the branch, bring ID, and your divorce papers.”

 

OUCH!

 

Mr. Murph is a pro at tailgating.

MSU HOMECOMING

Our new guy, Murphy. Love him!

Mmm... Breakfast

So, I was honestly going to take a picture of my delicious breakfast as an homage to my all-time favorite fruit - the red raspberry. As I set the bowl on the counter, what was that in the background... oh yes, a Kitchen Aid! I won't lie... the placement of the bowl was intentional, as I believe I have finally crossed the threshold of a domesticated almost-married adult with the gift of the Kitchen Aid. I also won't lie that I have no idea what to do with this thing. It's not like I'm whipping up cookies everyday, and that's all I really know to do with it.

HELP!

Fwd: Lad Lit

Hahaha, I'm curious to see if this email forward to my blog works.  Sorry, Nick, I had to. This was too funny!

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Nick Collins
Date: Thu, Aug 28, 2008 at 10:31 AM
Subject: Lad Lit
To: "Smith, Lindsay"

So I'm buying 4 or 5 new Mike Gayle books on Amazon, and I'm disappointed to see the tag "lad lit" on some of his books.

Much Better Than Muzak

We met with our classical guitarist last night and picked out the wedding music*. Here is a link to the song that'll be playing when I walk down the aisle... it was breathtaking to hear in person!

http://www.guitarinterludes.com/files/Romanza.mp3

This is one expense that is well worth it, in my opinion. It'll be so classy and elegant to have a live guitarist and I couldn't be happier with the music we chose. It's a Spanish Romantic song, and is so dramatic and passionate and emotional. I'm hoping tears don't ruin my makeup and/or make me do the awkward-cry face while I'm paying a photographer hundreds of dollars per hour to take hundreds of pictures of me!**

* I do realize that most of what I talk about as of late is weddingweddingweddingmarriedomgi'mgettingmarriedweddinghoneymoonwedding. I do realize. But hand-to-my-chest, being engaged is the absolute best time of my life. Sure, there are the low-points {how much to spend? how to deal with different people with different ideas of what to spend, etc. why is it always about money :(?} but everything else is just so great. Even just talking about our wedding day and ceremony and what not brings us closer together I think. Anyway, off of that tangent, seriously, being engaged is the bomb, and while I am starting to get REALLY excited for The Big Day, I'm also a wee bit sad that it'll soon be over. The engaged buzz/glow will be done. But then the real fun begins, right!?

** A word on the crazy prices of wedding photographers!? I saw many many websites full of awesome photography, starting at $4500. STARTING AT?! You've got to be kidding me. I hate to talk money all the time, but we ended up going with one for around $3000 and we got all of the perks we were looking for {CD with all images and photographic rights {their pitch was even "You can print the pictures off at Target if you'd like!" MY KIND OF PEOPLE!} as well as a very nice album, and DVDs created from all of the images, etc.}

*** There was no *** in this post but *** will be a word on the hair appts. Sorry, did not realize this would turn out to be a full-blown wedding post, but DAMN I waited too long to find a salon! Who knew people made hair appointment so far in advance? People have almost laughed at me when I tell them I want appointments 4 weeks from now... it's almost like booking a dentist appointment!

It's Friday, Bitches!
Today couldn't have been a better day for the horrendous construction project outside of my building to cut the lines {I don't know the technical details, people!} to our internet, computer systems, phones, etc. You'd think I would have slipped the construction foreman a $100 to cut the lines! Hehe, whoops, just kidding, ha-ha, nervous laughter!

So when the Boss Man was all "take off today if you have nothing to do" I had my keys out and my purse on my shoulder by the time he was done.

Off to the mall! {Shush, don't tell Nick.} I won't lie... I bought myself diamonds! I mean, I have to brag about it, right? How often does a lady buy diamonds? I think this was the first time ever. What I ended up buying was my wedding band(s... shhhh!). I won't lie... buying diamonds is pretty fun. The best part is, I window-shopped online before-hand, and picked it out before-hand, so I was able to walk in confidently and say "I want this, I saw it online, I know I want it, don't try to sell me anything." Because MAN, I hate sales-people. They suck hardcore!

Now I'm at home, a sweet feeling because it's not even 4:00 yet! The night is young...

FOOD

I'm having a really stressful day at work, and all I can think about it going to lunch, and how I'm going to order a great big cookie and a soda. I don't like that I turn to food when I'm stressed out, but at least I can recognize it... but really, Foggy Bottom's cookies are amazing, and I'd probably want one anyway, stress or no stress... : )

 

P.S. I have a wedding dress fitting today. WHY AM I EATING COOKIES?!

 

Radio Head

I have this thing where I listen to the radio on my drive in to work, and as I'm turning my car off, whatever song is playing is the song that I end up humming or singing to myself all day long. This is either an awesome trait or an annoying trait, depending, of course, on the song. This morning it was Rodrigo y Gabrielle with their awesome guitar duo. So this afternoon I'm still plucking along on an imaginary guitar and pounding away on the wood of the acoustic guitar while I issue purchase orders at work.

What's even more uncanny is if I'm listening to a CD. Same thing happens, I hear the last song that was playing when I pull into work, but the funny thing is when I leave work and return to my car, I can almost be singing the exact same line of the song from when my engine shut off nine hours before. My mind just picks up where the song left off, sometimes to the exact lyric.

But on days when it's something like Collective Soul's "The World I Know"? Well then, you better not cross my path because I've been singing this garbage song in my head all day and I'm about to break. True Story.

Invites

So you all saw my super cute invites, right?  Well, I was so paranoid that some would get lost in the mail, much like random socks go missing in the dryer, never to be seen again. Nick got a call from his mom about one of her cousins who didn't get the invite in the mail. She heard about it in a round-about way {I cringed!} and the cousin asserted that she wasn't invited.  I sent out their invite on 7/22/08! I swear! Turns out, looking up addresses on whitepages.com isn't the best way to go about it, as they are frequently incorrect. Now I just hope she doesn't think she was invited last minute {guests are to RSVP by next week} and oh I just need to get over it and hope their feelings weren't inadvertently hurt!

 

I'm Still Alive

Now that a couple of days have passed since my blood draw (I believe it was my first blood draw of my whole life - is this really possible? I am 26! How is this possible? It is possible.) and I am still alive here, I'm able to view the experience with less fresh glasses. Not rosy, but less fresh/raw/it-just-happened-and-I'm-still-anxious-about-it glasses.

 

Honestly, I thought FOR SURE that I would throw up, faint, or do both. I'm so so shocked that I didn't do either. And you're probably wondering "why keep beating a dead horse, this is the 2nd or 3rd mention of it on blogger/twitter/etc. in the last few days?"  Well, if you knew my history of "doctors appointments" especially ones including needles, well you'd understand.

 

I think the Xanax probably had a lot to do with it, but to be completely honest, I still lost my shit. I basically had to lay on the exam table as flat as a pancake. I asked Nick to remove the thing they call a pillow (I disagree - def. not a pillow) from underneath the exam table paper so I could be closer to 180-degree and get the maximum blood flow to the head. When the nurse came in, I started getting dizzy and anxious (just from hearing her come in! - my free arm was already draped across my forehead so I couldn't even see anything because even just the sight of the needles could make me faint). When she tried to find a vein, I started to get antsy and move around a bit, moving my legs and feet and trying to disassociate.

 

She poked my right arm with the needle, which didn't really hurt, but then I hear an "Oops" and a scurry out the door. At this point, I was getting more and more anxious by the minute. I was probably starting to breath heavily and/or hyperventilate. The onset of an anxiety attack! Fun Monday afternoon activity.  And really? It's not the pain that gets me - I'm not really sure what it is to be honest!  I didn't even realize that I was having anxiety attacks re: doctors/needles etc. until my doctor said "why don't you try Xanax?"  

 

Back to my riveting story, a minute later, the nurse came back with another nurse (I'm assuming one who is "better" at drawing blood?) and they poked me in the left arm. They had to tourniquette my arm pretty tight because my veins were in hiding. (Poor things were just as nervous as me.) THAT made me anxious as hell, because I could feel how tight it was around my arm. The nurses and Nick kept giving me updates "You're doing great, wow, you're almost done, almost over, you're just about done, you're doing great" and that REALLY helped as well. Because honestly? It didn't feel like ANYTHING. The initial poke BARELY hurt, and after that 1 second poke, I didn't feel a thing. I don't even think I felt the needle get removed.  I make it sound like this was all a piece of cake for me, but it wasn't. I was still very much anxious and "in the zone" and freaking out. After they were done with the blood draw, my arm started to go numb, and my hands were hurting. At this point, like I said, I wasn't looking at anything, my eyes were shut, and  I was hyperventilating as well as sweating like crazy. I had a washcloth on my face and neck, and I couldn't see anything.

 

Finally, I peeked out of the washcloth and looked at my free hand, and figured out why my hands hurt - my fingers literally curled up in my hand. Picture making your fingers into a duck-bill profile, then try to touch the duck-bill profile to your forearm. YEAH, that's what my hands looks like - both of them. It was really bizarre and kind of frightening, but to tell you the truth, in hindsight, I'm glad I had something else to focus on other than the thought that I just had a needle piercing my vein and drawing blood. The nurses had to get my some hot packs to relax the muscles in my hand, they were stiff as a board and there was no moving my fingers. 

 

Anyway, to finish up the story, I laid on the table for a few extra minutes, trying to figure out what was going on with my fingers and gain my composure a bit and calm down. I think part of the anxiety that people like me face is the embarassment of having such an anxiety disorder for medical-related issues. It was very embarassing for me, but the nurse was so helpful yet unfazed, and Nick was so nice about it. I kept putting myself down, rhetorically asking myself mid-procedure "WTF. Why am I like this? Why am I such a freak?" because I just wanted to note out loud that "yes, I understand this is a weird reaction, I do realize that, I don't think this is normal" because I was so sensitive to how people would react to my reaction. I realize this is silly, but it was part of my anxiety as well. Now that it's sort of "established" with my doctor/nurse that I am this way, hopefully the next time I have to do this (way far away future!) that part of the equation won't be there.

 

Wow - I didn't think I would be so wordy about this - I didn't realize I had so much to say. But honestly, once I left that place, I felt like a million bucks to have the experience behind me. Well, more like fifty bucks, seeing as how I went home and promptly fell asleep for 15 hours. Anxiety/panic attack will do that to you. It DRAINS you, trust me!

 

Epilogue: I wrote this and left it in "draft" mode for quite a while. I typically don't talk about this with people, other than to say "Yeah, I'm not a huge fan of needles." Little do they know. But, this site has been so helpful to make me realize I'm not the only nut out there that I've decided to hit the "Post and Publish" button. If I know you in "real life" (I have what? 3 readers of this site?) I probably haven't talked in much detail about it. Although my close close friends know ALL ABOUT the time I went in for a cavity-filling and ended up throwing up my lunch (Nacho Cheese Doritos) all over the dentist office. It's actually quite cathartic to write it down on paper (screen?), and hit the publish button. Now it's not such a secret. Helps with the "apprehension of being judged" factor of the anxiety. Anyway, I thought to myself, "if someone reads this and they see a little bit of me in someone they know, maybe it'll help him/her to understand that person better." So there you have it.

Who-Hoo!

Awesome news from my wedding photography consultant - we're getting a 2nd photographer for free! It's like Christmas in August!

I survived my Dr. Appt. this afternoon... well, barely. My doctor had me take a couple of Xanax to calm me down because I freaked out at the prospect of having blood drawn last week. It seemed to help somewhat, until they brought in the needles. So I guess it didn't really work all that much. :) But - I did survive, I'm not dead, I didn't faint OR upchuck! But I still freaked waaaay out.

The nurses and Nick were super nice about it though and didn't make me feel like the freak I was feeling like inside. Honestly, there must be some official name for this "disorder" of being so freakishly afraid of needles/doctors/etc. Oh well, I'm just proud of myself for making it through without fainting. That's always the worst, and you feel like a jackass afterwards, and it's pretty scary because you can hit your head on an array of things on the way down. Last time I fainted it was on the way back from the check-out desk to the waiting chairs, so there was nothing around thankfully, but the doctor offices are so small and cramped and full of counters and sinks and trays of stuff and I'm sure I would have hit something on the way down, so I'm glad I was able to avoid that whole ordeal.

Nick was truly a gentleman and was just there by my side the whole time, putting cool washcloths on my head and neck and talking to me and trying to distract me from my crazy fearful thoughts and my inner fright. I am so damn lucky to have him in my life, I can't even describe it. Now that's out of the way - and I've truly been dreading it for a couple of weeks now - I can focus on other, more important things - such as, oh, I don't know, GETTING MARRIED!

Nick and I have a deal: he mows the lawn, and I clean the kitchen. It's fairly stereotypical, but it works for me. I abhor the thought of mowing the lawn and mowing over a frog. That's really the only thing that'd hold me back from doing it. Now you know my weird inner thoughts, I'll tell you another reason this deal isn't so bad.

I present to you: Mrs. Meyer's Lemon Verbena Countertop Cleaner. Oh, how I love thee. It smells like Aveda products, which isn't too shabby. While it's on the expensive side ($6 for a small-ish bottle) it certainly is worth it. If I'm not crabby while scraping the stove top, well that's just priceless.

Getting Married Soon! Thus, all of my free time is spent stalking the world wide web for all things wedding. So much good stuff out there, it's hard to keep track of. My "favorites" has grown exponentially... I can see how someone can have a full-time job being a wedding planner. The details! The table cards! The thank you notes! The satin or sateen or silk chair cover sashes! It's all too much... too much fun.

Don't you LOVE our wedding invitations? Me too!

I ordered them from a wedding invitation site online (my mom tried to persuade me to go to a stationary shop but this was less expensive and still great quality) at http://www.weddingpaperdivas.com/. I kind of cringe at the "diva" in their name but they have some nice stuff, if you're in the market for invitations, inner envelopes, response cards, and such. :)

We are having a photo booth at our wedding, too. I first got the idea last summer while perusing some blogs, and stumbled across pictures of someone's wedding who had it at the reception. Now it seems photo booths are a major hit (as seen at parties for BlogHer and the like) and I feel like a copy-cat, even though I've had mine booked for over 8 months. Oh well. Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, right?

Last but not least... a woman is marrying us. I was nervous that both Nick and my parents would be somewhat old-fashioned and want a man to do the ceremony. Since neither of us is especially religious, that knocked out the idea of having a priest or minister, and we were left to our Googling devices. Surprisingly, most of the people I found online were women. When we met with our officiant, she pointed out that it's because traditionally, in the wedding officiant biz, men are the breadwinners and the women do this as a part-time job. She said it's nearly impossible to officiate weddings full-time and make a full-time salary to support yourself. So if you see a man offering his services, he's likely doing wedding officiating on top of other things to keep the cash flowing. The one man we did find seemed "off", so I googled him and found out that he also buys and sells web domains. Kind of random. He purchased something along the lines of taiwanrentalcars.com and has it up for sale. I know it's the same guy because of his unique name and also his local phone number is on both sites! Very random, and not the type of guy I'd want to marry us.

Phew - that was a long story with no real point - other than to say most people we found online were women, so there you have it. I know Revernd Christine will do a fantastic job and I'm excited to have found her.

And I swear, I'm not the girl who has been dreaming of her wedding for 20 years, etc. I am very very much looking forward to my wedding, don't get me wrong, but I'm not one of these fairy-princess brides who wear cupcake dresses. But I gotta tell you, I have a sweet spot in my heart for watching brides try on dresses. In the 5 times I've been to the bridal shop, I usually have the most fun watching other brides, rather than getting into my own dress. It's such a happy time for people and it's nice to be around such good energy.

Hopefully I'll get on a blog-roll once again. I've been neglectful, I know. Most posts to come...

Life Lesson # 200

I just drove all the way (a whole 0.5 miles - but! I had to make a left turn out of my place of work!  Left turns at noon-time are brutal!) to Wendy's for a scrumptious and healthy salad, got back to my desk, prepared the self for the glorious consumption of said salad, and alas, there's no salad dressing!

 

Life Lesson # 200 is to always check your Wendy's bag for a complete order before pulling away from the drive-through stop eating fast food.

 

Love,

Lindsay

Snippets

• This post was sitting in my "draft" box since May 7. So, today, 6/27 is not Freud's birthday, but when I wrote this, it was. Consider yourself informed.
• It's Freud's birthday today... hmm... all of a sudden I'm really craving a hotdog.  No, scratch that, a bratwurst. ;)
• I have no problem admitting to everyone that I qualify for the $600 tax refund check thing. Got mine today. It's scary how quickly I can spend $600.
• We were doing some yard work late yesterday afternoon, and then left the house for a couple of hours.  When we came back and went into the basement, we realized the slider door had been left open.  Our slider doesn't have a screen, so basically there was a wide-open gaping hole to our house for a few hours. When we went to bed, Nick locked the bedroom door "in case there were hobos bumbling around the house."  Hehe.
• There's a girl from Dexter who was on America's Next Top Model.  She made it to the Top 10 maybe?  Top Five?  Anyway, her schtick was that she was the manager of a Dairy Queen, and that she just wanted to get out of her small-town Michigan abode, and make it big in the modeling biz.  Since moving to Dexter, I have seen her at the Dairy Queen (behind the glass, serving customers) as well as catering a lunch at my work.  Yeah, that Tyra Banks show really worked out for ya.

 

 

 

Weekend

Nick and I are going on weekend # 5 out of 6 where we have something major planned for the weekend that involves going out of town.  While I can't really complain, I will complain just a little.  Don't get me wrong - the fact that we have things going on each weekend for a long stretch of time means good things are going on right now - friends, family getting married, family moving out of town on to bigger and better pastures, weekend adventures or mini-vacations - really, absolutely no room for complaints.  Other than: messy bathrooms, un-vacuumed floors, dirty mirrors, mildewy sinks, and unkempt gardens.  But I suppose, when lying on your death-bed, you don't think about those things; instead you think about the time you stayed up til 3:00 a.m. having a blast with your sister-in-law and her fun girlfriends at her bachelorette party, or the time you walked around Washington D.C. in 100-degree heat, but having a blast with your mom and sister, or (forthcoming) backpacking along beautiful Lake Michigan trails with good friends.  Ah yes, can't complain.

Doesn't Get Old

Call me childish, but it still doesn't get old to her our MRO Buyer call and place orders on the phone, with her deliberative and teacher-like voice spelling out our company's name, giving the person on the other line the address of "125 Blueball Road"...

M.O.

This was too long for a twitter, so here goes:

 

Yet another reason why I Love Wikipedia.  You learn fun tidbits you may not have learned otherwise.  Granted, not everything is 100% true... but I digress.

 

Reading up on possible First Lady Michelle Obama:

 

"She met Barack Obama when they were the only two African Americans at their law firm and she was assigned to mentor him while he was a summer associate."

 

Isn't that neat?

 

A.F.

Today is Anne Frank's birthday.  Happy Birthday A.F.  Now, I don't know this because I'm a pretentious person who knows all of these famous figures lives like the back of my hand, no, I'm just the pretentious person who receives daily email from The Writer's Almanac (haha, because I'm such a writer) and this daily email has tid-bits of trivia at the end of each message.

 

Anyway, now that that's cleared up.

 

So, something to mull over – is was this day, on Anne's 13^th birthday in 1942, that she received the infamous diary, which she called "Kitty".  As you all know, the diary has become a staple in everyone's reading repertoire, but I found it interesting that her diary is the # 2 most selling (ever!) non-fiction book in the history of non-fiction books, behind the Bible.  Wow, impressive. 

 

Now, I'm also not this pretentious person who knows quotes off the top of her head – again, this quote came from my daily email, but I liked it so I'm posting it here.  Crazy to think it came from a 13 year old, I don't think we give kids enough credit these days.  But then again, if you put a 13 year old from 2008 in an attic for two years, she'd complain more about not having internet access so she can facebook her friends, or download new music for her iPod.

 

Sorry for the tangent, here is the quote: (am I just further propogating the notion that 13 year olds suck these days, by using that stereotype? Eh.)

 

Anne Frank wrote, "Everyone has inside of him a piece of good news. The good news is that you don't know how great you can be! How much you can love!"

Catch you later.

Itchy Eyes

Blogger blogger blogger

Can't you see

Sometimes you really

Irritate me

 

(sung to the tune of "Biggie Biggie Biggie Can't You See") (um, by, B.I.G.?) (See previous post re: bad music taste)

 

I used to be Da Bomb at the internet.  I could HTML up my own website and all.  This was before the second wave of internetism.  Before blogs were a dime a dozen, or a dime a hundred.  Now, I can't even post from email or figure out how to get my flickr/twitter on the site.  Woes.

 

Anyway, I forgot that blogging can sometimes be fun, I mos. def. love reading them, and sometimes it's fun to write them as well.  As such, here I am watching a 3rd overtime in the Stanley Cup finals game, half-blogging, half-watching tv.  I'm from Detroit, I'm, like, obliged to watch this.  Kind of like how I'm obliged to state my loyalty to either MSU or UM, or drive a Ford, or talk about the shitty unemployment rates.  Woes.

 

Anyway, I'm not sure why, but at the ripe old age of 26 I've learned I have raging allergies.  Self-diagnosed, of course, but still.  There have been many of the sneezing incidents at work, with various fun snacks (apples, baked doritos (wow, so healthy!), egg salad sandwich - how graceful) and lots of the red-eye, "I swear I'm not a pothead" looks on a fresh Monday morning, and lots of itchy nose ("I swear I'm not a cokehead!").

 

Another thing?  So I love Madonna, and I got a total kick out of this handwritten note on display at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame that she wrote as a college freshman at U of M.  Almost any girl who grew up in the 80s has a place in her heart for Madonna, but seriously... how on earth does she look like that at 50?   I can't put my finger on it, but she reminds me of the kind of slutty girls I hate when I go out... I don't like that!  It's MADONNA.  Maybe I'm just a granny.

 

I have no witty or full-circle way to end this post... so here it shall end.  I just farted.

 

Help!

So, I am NOWHERE NEAR a music aficionado, I don't know what the hip kids are listening to these days, let alone if I'm totally square for saying "hip".  Anyway, while perusing my my iTunes (if you must know, I was pre-ordering my Coldplay CD... yup, I'm a square un-hip twenty-something who orders CDs based on interest garnered from an iTunes commercial) I found the following songs in my folder of music titled "90s music":

 

• Lonestar - Amazing
• Will Smith - Will2K
• Enrique Iglesias - Be With You
• Lit - My Own Worst Enemy (Dirty) [Ed. Note:  scandalous! the dirty edition!  maybe I wasn't as un-hip in my teenage years...]
• Savage Garden - I Knew I Loved You
• and... last, but not least...
• Creed - My Own Prison (Acoustic)

For my penance, I shall say three Hail Marys while sitting in the corner with a dunce cap on.  I do realize my mistakes and I apologize to anyone reading this, as you're invariably going to start singing one of these monstrosities to yourself as your poor eyeballs read the titles, without your precious auditory organs even hearing them.  I apologize twice over.

 

Any good music suggestions?  It's been over a year since I've invested any time into music (finding fun new stuff) and I've really only come to know The Kooks and Interpol as of late.  If I give you my address, will you show up on my front lawn with a boom box, a la Lloyd Dobbler, and blast your fav new CD?

 

Air kisses and such,

Lindsay

I'm not taking the whole

I'm not taking the whole bridal diet thing seriously yet. Maybe something I should start NOW considering we're <4 mo away. Yikes.

I'm so proud of my

I'm so proud of my mama & sister who've been running in the cleveland marathon for over two hours now while my lazy bum was asleep

Its senior prom at our

Its senior prom at our hotel which is laid out like a mall with rooms around the perimeter its awesome

Hats

I happened upon an article in the LA Times, a poignant little piece written by a twice-divorced man who found love again. I'm not one to wax romantic about things, but I found it particularly touching.

 

I'll tell you this, young lovers: Life has a way of taking your most earnest pledges and folding them into funny hats for you to wear.

 

Dan Neil - http://www.latimes.com/classified/automotive/highway1/la-tm-800words05-2008may04,0,181643.story?track=rss

 

A Night and Day of Excess

We're on a tight budget.  We get good news re: tight budget (see prior blog post).   We decide "We're rich!" and off to the pub we go.  Beers are drunk.  (Drank?)  Appetizers ordered.  Excess food.  Drive home.  Make some cocktails.   Make more cocktails.  And another.  Excess drink.  Hit the hay.  Seven hours later, hit the snooze. Again. Again. Again. Again. 7:06 a.m. SHIT. Excess sleep.  Lather, rinse repeat.  Stand under hot water, willing away headache. Stand, stand, stand.  Excess shower.   Drive to work, with sunglasses.  Belly aching, stop at McDonalds.  Excess breakfast.  Birthday at work!  Cake!  Excess sugar.  Bumble along at work, email after email after email of problem parts.  Excess work headache.

 

And I'm spent.

Law & Order is on... L&O is a big hit around here...

Although I'm starting to get slightly annoyed by how predictable it is...

Opening Scene: Person found dead unexpectedly.

Opening Credits

NYPD, the "Law", interviewing the deceases best friend or business partner or father: "So tell me where was she the night of the murder?" [They are always walking... from Office #1 to Office #2, or from Apartment Room #1 to Apartment Room #2.]

Woman, walking: "She was with me [looking over her shoulder at the two cops], in my studio, from about 9:15 to 10:30 last night."

OKAY, who the fuck remembers what they were doing at 9:15 some night like a week ago?! Also, everytime the cops are interviewing people, the people are always "on the walk" (as in, "on the run"), walking from Point A to Point B. Ummm, if cops were interviewing me about my friends' death, I'd for sure be a.) crying b.) not walking to my next appointment.

I really hope the directors and producers of L&O are reading my website... I'm sure they are! I have loads of good tips... (god I'm an asshole)... (funny is that I first wrote "asshold" rather than "asshole")...

T.G.!

There is a God... someone leased our old apartment and now we are spared of continuing to pay $900+ for an apartment we are no longer occupying!   Huzzah!

 

In other T.G. news, I got a free month subscription of Blockbuster Online and now can reminsce while watching Freaks and Geeks, Season One (of one).  Judd Apatow not at his best, but pretty good nonetheless. I definitely

 

In other non-related news, the sky is such a beautiful shade of blue/green/gray right now, right at the cusp of night, between post-dusk and night, I wish I could bottle it up and paint my bedroom with it.  Also make skirts and eyeliner and a nighttime ballad with it.  Lovely.  Lively, oddly.

 

Lastly, I'm really excited for my sister to be moving to D.C. for grad school... I hope to live somewhat vicariously through her... D.C. is such a fun city, I am envious and excited at the same time, much more excited than envious. Minus the feeling of politicis (quite ubiquitous, really!) there's an awesome sense of learning and culture and education and philanthropy and non-profit goodness so-to-speak that it's pretty cool.

 

Much cooler than buying various PVC, polycarbonate, and dip-molded parts for the medical device industry... wah-waaaah.

Omg the guy next to

Omg the guy next to me on the plane has shackles around his ankles i am texting from the airplane bathroom pre takeoff of course

I am sooo loving this. Let me tell you, I abhor the Microsoft Paperclip. Even worse is the stupid dog you get when searching for files. Hate hate hate.

You know what I don't hate? Rollerblading! Whoo! See post below... we're having a good time with our new rollerblades, even though spring has sprung here and with that a plethora of mosquito-y bugs and such. Nothing like wheeeeeee!ing down a slight incline right into a black curtain of buggery. Yummy.

Anyway, it's almost Friday. It's sick how much I look forward to Fridays. In fact, it's sick how much I look forward to retirement. Yikes. Anyway, so I'm traveling to LA next week for work, and we're staying in Torrance. OMG what do you think of when you hear Torrance?!?!?!?! I won't even give you a clue, you shouldn't need one.

I leave you with this: is purple cabbage not the most beautiful veggie?!

Birthday

Twenty-six was a great birthday, by my measure.  It started with breakfast in bed, a leisurely start to the day, and a true clean slate of a Saturday in which I could do whatever I wanted to do. Nick and I went on a wild goose chase, that ended up being not-so-wild as we were lucky on our second store.  The goods? Rollerblades.  Yeah man! Nothing to make you feel like half your age than a good pair of rollerblades. Nevermind the fact that the wrist pads and knee pads I threw in there for good measure took me right back up to twenty-six, or doubled my age, rather, but it’s all good. I’ll take a bruised vanity over a broken appendage ANYDAY.

 

Donning my impressive safety gear and new ‘blades, we took full advantage of a beautifully sunny Saturday and headed over to the Metropark.  It was nearly 50 degrees and the park was nowhere near empty. Other couples were strolling on the path, kids were throwing rocks into the river, and hippies were playing disc-golf. It was a picturesque early springtime painting. Sublime.

 

After my first foray into rollerblading in over a decade, we took to the open road in search of a quaint little restaurant on a nearby lake, but was unsuccessful. Some deep-dish pizza pie was a very close second option, and I was pleased nonetheless. I thought to myself, “Damn, I am lucky!”

 

After bumming around the house, watching bad movies (Perfect Stranger, The Lookout), and lollygagging, it was time for some birthday dessert.  Headed up to the bar, got myself a martini (the b.f. a beer) and we each ordered a dessert. Of course, when Nick’s dessert came, and looked ever so appetizing, I took the liberty of having a few heaping forkfuls, you know, it being my birthday and all. He didn’t even touch mine. What a gentleman.

 

So, the day didn’t involve partying like a rockstar, I didn’t have a huge party with copious amounts of liquor and beer, I didn’t demand roses and diamonds and the likes, but damn, that was as near a perfect day as I’ve ever had. Damn, I am lucky.