Radvent: A Journaling Project

The fabulous Ms. Young over at Finely Young forwarded me a link today that she thought I would particularly enjoy. As she's had excellent taste in bloggy goodness so far, I wasn't surprised that I adored Princess Lasertron right away.

I was also hooked on an idea.

I was inspired by her Radvent blogging project for a number of reasons. Of the many, I was most drawn to the idea because it's so fitting to reflect and find thanks in the year that's passed before entering into the new. Since we're so very close to the holidays - I keep watching the countdown and gnawing my fingernails as I know that we're not near done shopping - I thought it might be appropriate to start expressing my sincere thanks for all the wonderful things that happened in the last year. What better way than to hop on the Radvent train and participate in my own way.

_____________________________________________________________________

WE ALL GET AS MANY BEGINNINGS AS WE NEED.

WE CAN START OVER. GIVE UP.

START OVER. GIVE UP. START OVER. GIVE UP. START OVER. GIVE UP.

_____________________________________________________________________

When I think of a new beginning, I think of Shannon.

When I think of Shannon, I think of starting over.

When I think of starting over, I think of a blustery February evening in 2009. I think of my girlfriends and I taking advantage of the men our lives via their universal single weakness (beer) and offering to buy them at least one round if they agreed to accompany us out of the house. We all had cabin fever and a desperate need to share space with numerous strangers, the sounds of bad karaoke and the stale ordor cigarette smoke. It was the midst of winter. We were antsy.

It was here that I bought my future husband a Pabst Blue Ribbon (you read that correctly) and sat cramped next to him on a bar stool mocking a poor sap across the bar who looked like a retirement-aged member of the Jersey Shore cast. Monochromatic outfit. Slicked back hair. A bit of gold bling surrounding his groomed chest hair. I'm pretty sure Shannon had a man-crush on him. I might have had one, too.

But he's not what I remember, really.

What I remember is the rush of excitement I felt that night. Possibility existed. It stretched in front of me for what seemed like miles. For the first time in a long, long time I felt like there might be more in store than wasted time or a broken promise.

I remember the flush in my cheeks. I remember the way my perfume failed to overpower the smoke that hung thick like fog in the air. I remember being certain that he could hear my heart pounding a thousand miles an hour over the shrillness of the local karaoke patrons.

I remember taking the first steps into starting over that evening. I gave up on my old life, and I started a new one. Give up. Start over. Give up. Give in. Start over. Start fresh.

I remember Shannon. I remember our beginning.

In the Cards

I've had a number of moments in my life since I met Shannon in which I've had to take pause and wonder at the strange way the universe works. Considering five years ago we were in totally different places than we could ever have thought we would be,  it's amazing for me to think that we are where we are today. I have to marvel at the ways our lives change shape and grow moving us from one path to another. All the random that we assume exists in our lives somehow makes sense when you look back at it from your present location. You got where you are because you experienced what you experienced.

In a very not philosophical way, it makes me think of Sam in Quantum Leap. What can I say? My mom loved the show when I was a kid, and I remember it. It made an impression. Yeah, I know. That Scott Bakula. He's a character! I do think of the show, though, and how one thing changing the past, just one tiny thing, so completely changed the course of history. Maybe not for everyone, but most definitely for the person into whose life he'd jumped.

These are the things that I consider when I think about our lives five years ago.

Five years ago, Shannon and I briefly crossed paths at the wedding of our mutual friends Amanda and Andy. I was dating my college sweetheart. He was living with his girlfriend who would, shortly, become his wife. Shannon was working for his father's small business. I was unaware that in a few short months, I'd be thrust into a work environment where 75+ hour weeks were the norm rather than the exception. Shannon had stopped taking art classes at the community college. I'd just come out of my masters degree program a few months. He was building his life with someone while I was building my life with someone else.

And then what happened? A breakup. A move. New jobs. A marriage. New goals. Rock Band at our mutual friends' house. Divorce. A move (for him). A naked man walking out of my bathroom that did not belong to me. The period of non-happening in my life which I affectionately referred to with my roomie as our "boring phase." Life, as it always does, happened.

After all of that, we ran into each other again. One liners were exchanged. I may have been referred to as a social terrorist despite the evidence to the contrary. Beers were bought. Emails exchanged. A dirty secret about me having a big, fat crush was released into the wild. We dated. We moved in together. He survived (along with me) my first colonoscopy prep.

A word the wise, do not let your significant other of six months or less see you in the throws of full-on dehydrating bathroom usage unless you really, truly think he/she may be the one.

Despite the fact that I always thought you needed to have a traditional, long relationship in order to be happy; despite my absolute certainty five years prior that I would already be married with babies; despite the fact that I was secure in the knowledge that I would never be liked by my in laws; despite all of these things, 18 months after we first started dating, Shannon and I were married (and my in laws like me a lot). If that doesn't make me think that it was in the cards from the get go, I don't know what would.

Oh, except this. This makes me certain that we were always meant to find one another.

My sister as something (WTF?) and me as She-Ra

Shannon as Skeletor and his friend as He-Man (without arms, apparently)

You just can't argue with Fate sometimes. If Shannon had been He-Man, Fate and I may have had a quarrel because, well, He-Man and She-Ra are brother and sister. Gross, Fate. Gross. Thankfully, my man was a super villain kind of dude. Every girl loves herself a bad boy, right?

Normal Never Looked So Good

There have been days in the course of the last few months when I felt as if my life wasn't mine at all. My life, the life that I like to think of in terms of some sense of normalcy, had been taken over by the wedding life which is much, much different. The wedding life is one in which you leave work to go home and work. It's the type of life where you wake up in a cold sweat and wonder whether or not you remembered to write down the confirmation number for the tables and chairs you ordered from the party rental company. It is the life that, when it finally comes to a close, reminds you of why you love your life so much.

I love the quiet monotony of my life. Or, perhaps not monotony, but the predictability of it. I like knowing that I have 3 - 4 work-related programs a week, but usually only one of them will take place after 5pm. I like to know that the weekend holds two free days, one of which may be taken up by family obligations. I enjoy the notion that I will leave my desk between 5 - 5:30pm and head to the gym for a group class or to the park for a run. I appreciate knowing that my dinner will be served when I've finished cooking it.

Where some may look and see certainty and boring, I see comfort and happiness. I am not a fan of drive-thru dinners or microwaved lunches. I prefer to grocery shop at my own pace, not one dictated by invitation folding or envelope sealing. I enjoy nothing better than sitting on my couch in my jammies at 7pm on Saturday reading an embarrassingly thick novel with the fragrance of multiple scented candles and baking cookies filling the air and a Scottish terrier curled up on my feet.

I'm really not complaining. My wedding was beautiful. My reception was perfect. I am married to a man who makes my heart dance on a regular basis, and who is so much more than I ever expected to deserve.

But now? Now, I am ready for my life to be mine again. Mine and his. His and mine.

Ours.

Business, Business, Business

My wedding took place more than a week ago, and yet I have still been off the radar. Sometimes I ask myself if I'm ever really on the radar. But that's neither here nor there, really.

The reality is that despite our ceremony being in the past, our reception is very much in the future. As is a week of programming at my place of employment followed by five days out-of-state for a conference. Both of those two items are ahead of said reception. The reality is that I'm lucky to have a spare minute to breathe, let alone blog. And I miss it.

The blogging. Not the breathing because I'm still putting in a good effort to maintain that portion of my day in healthy fashion.

To attempt to appease the blog gods, and, more likely, myself, I'm posting briefly today. I'm sharing a picture from my wedding day. The one picture anyone has seen thus far.



Enjoy and know that I will be back sometime soon. Hopefully sooner than later. Hopefully with a fresh outlook on blogging and something important in my pocket to share.

Post of Randomness: Wedding Edition

Today is Tuesday.

I am getting married on Friday.

The following things must happen before this can take place:

• manicure and pedicure
• payment for and obtaining of birdcage veil
• ensuring for the 100th time that my bra does not show due to the low back of my dress
• creation of one bouquet of button flowers
• multiple 3-mile runs to maintain my stress level
• multiple attempts to not break my own leg prior to said wedding ceremony (remind me to tell you all about the slick stairs, the fall, the hairline fracture, and the crutches that happened for my college graduation)
• menu planning for a weekend at home

Yes, a weekend at home. Originally, Shannon and I were going to retire to the country for a relaxing weekend of camping and fishing. That was before my parents' neighbors decided to throw their annual Halloween party this Saturday. I don't really want to spend my honeymoon with 40 of my closest and drunkest friends. So, we're staying home. I mean that in a good way.

I'll be going apple picking on Saturday morning. I'm making something sinful for dinner that night which we plan to eat in the backyard with glasses of wine and my chimnea smoking away happily to keep the chill off the night air. Sunday we're headed somewhere for brunch and a hike. I fully intend for it to be an amazing weekend.

I also fully intend to use The Precious. You see, the coworkers gifted me with The Precious last Friday, and I have some Monster Cookies to make as a thank you for such an awesome wedding present.

In a nutshell? There's much to do before Friday. I can hardly wait.

This Post is About Reading, Not Food

Today, Shannon and I met with our pastor to discuss our ceremony and put the final touches on what we want for our ceremony.

Our ceremony. It's just eight days away. At this time next week, I'll be in the last moments of singledom. Wow.

As we prepped for this conversation, we were thinking of readings we'd like to be part of our intimate ceremony. Corinthians 13 will be part of the ceremony. Such a beautiful commentary on love. Love, not marriage, as Pastor Randy pointed out. Fitting that we should reflect on love in all its forms as we are married with our closest family by our sides. Our grandparents, our parents, our siblings...

After our discussion - unity candle (no), prayer (yes), writing our own vows (no), communion (yes) - Pastor Randy reminded us that if we had any other favorite verses or poems or pieces we'd like read to send them his way. Immediately, I thought of a piece my wonderful friend Steph sent to me a few months ago.

Robert Fulghum is wonderful. I'll be sending it to Pastor Randy later this evening. For now, you should enjoy. Take a read...

"Union" by Robert Fulghum

You have known each other from the first glance of acquaintance to this point of commitment. At some point, you decided to marry. From that moment of yes, to this moment of yes, indeed, you have been making commitments in an informal way. All of those conversations that were held in a car, or over a meal, or during long walks – all those conversations that began with, “When we’re married”, and continued with “I will” and “you will” and “we will” – all those late night talks that included “someday” and “somehow” and “maybe” – and all those promises that are unspoken matters of the heart. All these common things, and more, are the real process of a wedding.

The symbolic vows that you are about to make are a way of saying to one another, “You know all those things that we’ve promised, and hoped, and dreamed – well, I meant it all, every word.”

Look at one another and remember this moment in time. Before this moment you have been many things to one another – acquaintance, friend, companion, lover, dancing partner, even teacher, for you have learned much from one another these past few years. Shortly you shall say a few words that will take you across a threshold of life, and things between you will never quite be the same.

For after today you shall say to the world –
This is my husband. This is my wife.

Saucy

I am going to revel in the fact that I'm sharing a wee glimpse into two pieces of my wedding attire.

Wedding is the key word. I am not wearing this stuff to my reception. Reception = jeans and a flannel. Keep that in mind.

This saucy piece is an almost identical match to the red crinoline slip I will be wearing under my tea-length wedding dress.

And these are the Chuck Taylors I am wearing with that slip and that dress.

For part of the day. Not all of it. I have heels, too. They're not as much fun as the Chucks, though.

A Wedding Menu: Part I

Shannon and I are in full wedding reception planning mode. We have a little under two months until our reception (less than one month until our wedding!), and we both know the time is going to fly.

Did I mention that between now and the reception, I'm in charge of a week-long series of programming, out-of-town for a conference where I'm presenting three times, and we have a smattering of other obligations both personal and professional? If not, I've now  mentioned it. It's going to be a wild, crazy two months.

Luckily, we both have very supportive families that are working to help us in any way that they can. I have to admit that their willingness to lend a hand has been invaluable.

We spent the three-day weekend at my parents' lake property enjoying some light camping - I say "light" because we have a bathroom with a shower - and the fresh air. It was a brilliant weekend to be outdoors. Mid-to-upper 70s, sunny and breezy. In the midst of all that outdoorsy enjoyment, somewhere between the S'mores and the wine and the BBQ pork tenderloin, we talked a bit about the menu for our reception. It seemed to make perfect sense at the time.

Shannon and I are committed to the backyard BBQ theme that we've established for ourselves. We want our food to be exactly what you'd find in any picnic-type environment. Simple. Fresh. Awesomely yummy. So what does that mean?

It means my dad has offered to slow smoke beef brisket and make his famous baked beans. It means my mom is going to help us inject a few turkeys with some tasty brines before we deep fry them golden brown. It means that my parents offered to pull out all the stops and make their unbelievably sinful homemade potato chips in mass quantities to help us feed the 200-ish people we're inviting to attend our backyard festivities.

I. Am. So. Excited.

My parents make the best homemade potato chips. Really. They sold them at my sister's softball tournament for something like $4.50 a basket, and people came back for a second basket. Even a third. So good. The fact that my parents offered up their chip-making prowess just about made my weekend.

While the rest of the menu hasn't been officially designated - we still need to talk salads and cupcakes among other things - we have a really fantastic base from which to build.

It's going to be delicious.

Married

I will be married in October. I will point out that this eight months ahead of the date that we originally scheduled our wedding.

Before you ask, I do not have a bun in the oven. Thanks goes to my 92-year-old grandma, for reminding me that there was a practical reason for a quick wedding in the 1930s. Of course she did so with a wink and a laugh. This is the woman who reminded me that you never know where you'll meet your "special someone" since she met my grandfather in a pub. At the time, he was visiting Milwaukee from St. Louis. A few short years later, he moved her from Milwaukee to "Hell" as she affectionately called St. Louis in the dead of summer. Now that's a love story.

After a lot of soul-searching and some conversations about practical long-term plans, Shannon and I decided we'd much rather spend our money throwing a backyard BBQ reception for 200 of our closest friends and family than on a fancy wedding with bridesmaids and finery that would require us to cut people from our guest list.

Total wedding budget then? $4,000. Total wedding budget now? $1500. Happiness level then? Happy. Happiness level now? SUPER happy.

We'll get married in October. The first weekend in November, our guests will join us at my parents' rural home for a backyard BBQ and bonfire reception. The decor - fall foliage - and the attire - comfortable and causal - make me quite happy. The food makes me even more so. My mom and I will be cooking for our guests. I will be able to make my own cupcakes. My dad is going to build me a custom cupcake stand. My reception, in my head, is already perfect. Once the love of all our family and friends is added, it will outshine anything I'd imagined.

I am so excited.

Re-Thinking a Wedding

Shannon and I have been doing a lot of soul-searching and discussing about our wedding in the last few days. We've been talking money, we've been talking venues, we've been talking stress. We've also been talking where we go from "I do." We've been talking about starting a family. We've been talking about where we'd buy a house.

Really, we've been talking a five-year plan. So, it makes sense that we're re-thinking some things. Being practical. Being pragmatic. Being true to what our gut is telling us to do.

For now, that's as much as I'll say. We haven't made any hard and fast decisions. We have, however, put contracting with the caterer on hold until next week. Let that say what it will, right?

When Lunch Looks Like Dessert...

...you know it's going to be a good day.

Sunday was a great day. We got up fairly early and made our way to a local cafe for breakfast. We hit the local farmers market (closed on Sunday, oops!). We found the Bittersweet Bakery for a lunch of ridiculously decadent desserts. And all before we made our way to the local art museum for an exhibit on mourning.

Did I mention that we rounded out the day with a picnic lunch on the living room floor while we watched Kick Ass? No? Well, we did.

Although the whole day was wonderful, the focal point was really the dessert lunch we had at Bittersweet. Let me tell you, this place was phenomenal. The selection of cookies (Lavender Shortbread, anyone?) and biscotti (Double Chocolate Chip) was unbelievable. And the bread pudding? Absolutely sinful in every way.

Just look at it!



I was also a huge fan of Shannon's Black Walnut Brownie ice cream cone. Can you blame me?



Between the two of us, we ingested enough sugar to put a diabetic into shock. It was so, so worth it, though. So worth it. It was so worth it that I didn't mind not eating much of anything for the remainder of the day. Who needed to after having half of that bread pudding? Surely not me!

Absentee Blogger

Under normal circumstances, I would be inclined to feel exceptionally guilty about my absence from the blog for the last week. Especially after having a highly visible conversation with myself here about how I would do much, much better at not being an absentee blogger. But you know what? I've had a lot go down in the last week that has caused an obscene amount of celebration that involved food I did not cook myself. No cooking = no good recipes to share.

Why was a celebrating?

I'll tell you why. I was celebrating because June was a spectacular month for me this year. June brought the following to me:

1. A promotion at work that involves a title change, increased job duties, and supervisory responsibility. Yeah, it was a pretty awesome change. With said promotion came a raise. I'll find out more about how that translates to take home pay when I receive my check on Wednesday. Cross your fingers it's a good thing because I need some extra moolah. See, I'm starting a big, fat savings account because....

2. I am engaged. Shannon popped the question on Tuesday, and I, of course, said yes. After we "slow danced" to Faith No More's cover of "This Guy's in Love with You" in the middle of our dining room while I was wearing my gym clothes. It went down just like that...with a little help from Zac Effron. Or his likeness. We went out together on Tuesday night to enjoy a newly engaged couple's meal at our favorite local Irish pub. I ate copious amounts of their hand-breaded fried mushrooms dipped in their sinful horseradish sauce. I imbibed in my favorite beer of the moment. We topped it off with a jaunt to a local ice cream landmark. Celebrating, you see? It happened all week. Not only for the engagement, but also because...

3. I turned 30 yesterday. The big three-oh. And you know what? It was wonderful. I was surrounded by wonderful friends and amazing family who made my day beautiful and filled with love. My backyard was transformed, through the hard work of my babiest sister T and Shannon, into a beautiful multicolored light and lantern birthday venue. Gorgeous. It was absolutely lovely even with the scorching 90+ degree weather. I couldn't have asked for a better day to enter into my third decade.

So, I hope you will forgive me (and I will forgive myself) for being an absentee blogger. It's just that so much happened. I felt as if I should take some time to live it all up and enjoy the moments as they happened. I wanted to be able to reflect on them without analyzing them too close to the time that they happened. And I did. I am glad for that.

Now we'll be back to business as usual. Although, I'll probably be focusing on a lot of healthy recipes for a while. Don't get me wrong,, I'll still throw up a shout out to a whoopie pie or a delectable cookie more often than once a month. However, I have to buckle down on this Weight Watchers road. I have 35 pounds to lose to be at my goal weight. My new goal? To be at goal for my wedding on May 20, 2011. I have less than a year to get cracking. This is me lighting a fire under my own tush.

Flame on!

If You Give a Man a Skillet...

He'll make something like this.



Shannon made himself brunch yesterday and it consisted of the most ridiculous sandwich I've ever seen.

I say ridiculous because, frankly, there's almost one full avocado on the top of that sandwich. There is also a glob o' mayonnaise (full fat because my fat-free "tastes funny") on his slice of toast.

In his defense, he did say that after eating the sandwich he could have used "less avocado" and the mayonnaise was "unnecessary." He was pretty darned proud of his idea to mix soy chorizo in with the egg, though. I can't say I blame him. Soy chorizo is kind of badass.

All ridiculousness aside, he inspired me. I have a great little idea for an open faced breakfast gordita that combines some of his many flavors. Except that stack of plain avocado on top? It's going to be guacamole.

Happy Anniversary

Today marks my one-year anniversary with Mr. Shannon. I'd like to say that we have something romantic planned, but, alas, we don't. I'm working until at least 11pm tonight - something along the lines of a 16-hour day.  It's one of my big program days of the year at work. So instead of settling into a romantic day, we're settling into a day when we most likely will not see one another.

It's a good thing that we have other days, days when we make Joy the Baker's Cheddar Black Pepper Biscuits in heart shapes, to make up for unfortunate tricks of the universe on one-year anniversaries.

Happy Anniversary, Shannon. You're my favorite taste tester, and the person I enjoy cooking for the most. Thanks for not thinking I'm crazy when I'm up to my elbows in flour or have bits of cookie dough in my hair. Thanks for loving me even when I'm having a meltdown over a poorly executed lattice on a pie. And thanks for always being my best cheerleader. You make all the kitchen (mis)adventures worthwhile.

To the Heart with a Heart

What do you do when you and your significant other are on opposite work schedules passing each other for approximately 30 minutes each day? You bake.

You bake a giant, buttery chocolate chip cookie. You bake said cookie in your heart-shaped cookie pan. You leave said heart-shaped, giant cookie on the counter for your significant other to find.

And you enjoy the site of a half-eaten, heart-shaped, giant cookie the next morning.

It'll make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Trust me.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. If you haven't tried Alton Brown's Chewy recipe, you're really missing out. It's delicious. Of course, I need to send a huge thanks (again) to Joy the Baker for sharing it in the first place. I never knew chocolate chip cookies like this could exist. Oh, happiness.