And Now for a Little Excitement...

Now that my fingers have thawed out a bit, I can recount our crazy, wonderful, chilly, ridiculous weekend.
It started out quietly enough (too quietly??) with a cozy Friday evening on the couch. In a sleepy haze that morning I had managed to put short ribs instead of pot roast in the fridge to defrost, so we had an odd but tasty dinner of slow-cooked short ribs over leftover mashed potatoes. It was actually so good that I might make that mistake again next time...
I got sleepy early and the hubby kindly shooed me up to bed so that he could play a video game without my constant requests to turn the machine guns down a little bit. I fell sound asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, only to be shaken awake what felt like minutes later by Dan.
"Do you smell burning?" he asked.
"I don't smell anything. What the hell are you doing? It's still dark outside."
[I am not a very kind person in the middle of the night.] 
But something about Dan's dashing around made me sit up and sniff a little more... and then I definitely smelled it. Over the next few minutes, the smell got much stronger, but we couldn't figure out where it was coming from -- there was no smoke, no noise, and definitely no fire. Dan even poked his head up into the attic, where our resident squirrel (another story for another time...) got the fright of his life, but luckily didn't seem to have started a campfire. We hemmed and hawwed a bit, but eventually decided that Dan should call the non-emergency line for our county. I went to the bathroom quickly while he dialed, but as soon as I heard him start to recite our address, I started to get a little concerned. Dan mouthed to me "They're coming," and I'm not proud to say that my first reaction was a rather dramatic groan (safety first, all). I yanked on sweatpants and two coats, took a claw in the face while wedging one animal into a carrier, and we dragged one sleepy puppy, one furious cat, and our own bewildered selves outside.
In minutes we heard the sirens piercing through the frigid darkness, and I started to cringe. "The neighbors are going to hate us," I moaned, "Are you sure they really needed to come?"
Sure enough, we ended up with two large trucks, huge spotlights, and lots of flashing lights parked in front of our house while at least a dozen firefighters trooped in and out for an hour. Despite the fact that it felt like the middle of the night, this whole debacle actually started around 5:30 AM, so we stood in our driveway from about 6-7 (pre-sunrise), freezing and waiting for any sign of flames. Luckily there were never any of those, and the firemen eventually decided that the smell (which they smelled too, thank goodness... I was a little worried that our phone number might be destined for some kind of "boy-who-cried-wolf" list) was from a malfunctioning heat pump/air handler. Truly, I can't say enough about how kind and thorough these guys were -- they examined every inch of our house (I'm still recovering from the mortification I felt upon discovering the door to our "junk" closet wide open) and didn't complain a bit about the terrible hour or the awful cold.
In the end, we were left with a very cold house, no heat for a few days, and a lingering smell. Thank goodness for wonderful neighbors, friends, and family who checked in on us throughout the day, and one friend in particular who went way above and beyond, delivering a truckload of firewood and our two favorite little girls to play for a little while. We spent much of the day by the fire, napping off our early morning. Luckily the weather warmed up nicely, and that evening while Dan headed out to pick up dinner, I took the pup for a gorgeous long walk and dreamed of spring.
That evening, we set up camp in the living room:

(not the best picture, but you get the general idea)

I felt like a little kid in a fort, but a lot less comfortable... turns out, no matter how many blankets you put down, you'll still find at least one bone directly on the hard floor at all times.
Sunday was slightly less exciting, thank goodness (although it was my mother's birthday, and that's exciting! Happy birthday, Mom!) We slept in a bit, knocked out a workout, met up with some friends from out of town for a drink, drove around for a bit in the snow, and then headed home (with a hot cup of coffee) to get a fire going and settle into our makeshift sleeping quarters again. 
If Saturday night had been merely a little rough, Sunday night was pretty miserable. There was a lot of tossing and turning and poking my poor husband, hissing "The fire is dying! The fire is dying!" Thank goodness for him, because he got up several times each night to throw another log on and ensure my toes stayed warm.
Thankfully, after a (ahem) brisk few days (understatement), our heat was restored yesterday and I can feel my extremities again. There is still the matter of the "fixed" air handler that is now causing our kitchen floor to vibrate like a train might be passing through the house at any moment, but I am able to handle that minor hiccup much better now that the icicle at the end of my nose has melted.
Despite the annoyance, I do have to admit -- it was kind of fun to camp out with Dan and our furballs for a few days. Even though I certainly can't sleep on the floor like I used to (the days of birthday sleepovers are long gone, and you won't hear me protest), I enjoyed changing things up and hunkering down in front of the warm fire with my boys. I'd say my sore back was worth the extra puppy snuggles, laughter, and the billion or so episodes of NCIS. And now, I'm just enjoying the warmth and crossing my fingers that it will be a very long time before a fireman has to dig through my closets again.

   Love,

    Meg

How to Make Valentine's Dinner for a Man Without Losing Your Mind (Almost)

There's a recipe in here somewhere, I promise.

 -- Get home from work/running errands and immediately collapse into bed turn on laptop to get some work done, only to discover that 1. the internet is out for the third time this week and 2. the laptop is acting suspiciously like it still has that virus that you spent four hours trying to vanquish last week. Give up, collapse into bed.

 -- Take blissful hour hour and ten minute hour and twenty minute nap. Struggle mightily to wake up. Jump for joy that the day's headache is, in fact, still with you. Pop a few Advil.

 -- Sleepily stumble downstairs in sweatpants and slippers. Grumble at the cat, who has a thing for scurrying under feet that are sleepily stumbling downstairs.

 -- Move piles of dirty dishes around the kitchen and stack precariously until you have a small workspace.

 -- Take one block of sharp cheddar cheese, 1 bag of pepperoni, and two cans of buttermilk biscuits from the fridge. Try not to look last night's dinner in the eye.

 -- Spread out a silicone mat.

 -- Go back to the fridge with a spoon, eat a few bites of last night's mashed potatoes directly from the tupperware. 

 -- Cut/hew/chisel surprisingly solid cheese into roughly pepperoni-sized squares. Complain to a napping puppy about your new blisters. Feel a little bad for yourself that not even the puppy cares.

 -- Freak out a little when you realize that you've never actually opened a can of biscuits by yourself. Follow instructions carefully while wincing and  holding can as far away as humanly possible. Chuckle a bit when can opens easily with a anticlimactic "pfffft."

 -- Remove one biscuit of dough. Cut in half. Roll one half into a ball, then flatten in a circular shape with heel of hand. Spread until the diameter is 5 or 6 inches.

 -- Stack a pepperoni and a square of cheese in the center. Gather edges of dough and bring towards center, pinch together to seal.

 -- Place ball (sealed side down) in a greased 9"x13" pan (or 8"x14" pan or 12"x12" pan or 26"x50" pan, whatever floats your boat... and fits in your oven.)

 -- Repeat approximately a billion times.

 -- Suffer a minor heart attack when the second can of biscuits pops open in your hands with a sound like several thousand fireworks exploding at once. Worry about puppy's hearing, as he barely batted an eyelash.

 -- Continue cutting, rolling, flattening, stacking, and pinching.

 -- Bid adieu to the cat, who has decided that even he is bored with the process and wanders off to stare at a wall somewhere.

 -- When the pan is finally full, stretch your arms and pour yourself a glass of wine in celebration. Pull out a second pan. Keep trucking.

 -- Frantically remember that the oven isn't even on yet. Set it for 450. Extricate the shredded biscuit can from the trash. Turn oven down to 350.

 -- Fill second pan. Raise white flag, place two remaining biscuits on a cookie sheet for tomorrow's breakfast.


 -- Brush biscuits with olive oil and sprinkle with garlic powder.
 
 -- Put pans in oven. Check every 30 seconds to ensure that crazy, tempermental oven is not a. on fire or b. set to “Easy Bake.”


 -- Remove one pan after 14 minutes, the other after 22 (from the same oven rack). Ponder the fact that the first pan is significantly more cooked.

 -- Put cookie sheet with two extra biscuits in the oven. Heat up leftover spaghetti sauce (from a jar, who are we kidding?) for dipping. Serve dinner. Sigh as you pretend that each bite of pepperoni roll is actually lobster, and that you're really in a fancy restaurant with candles, expensive wine, and an extensive dessert menu. Come crashing back to reality with every blaring car commercial. Remove cat from lap at least three times. Remove cat from table twice.

 -- Freeze. Remember biscuits in oven. Jump up from couch and race through thickening smoke to open oven door. Sprint to smoke detector and start frantically waving your arms. Make a face at the puppy, who is looking at you like you've finally lost it. Wonder if perhaps he's right. Extricate two rather hard, rather blackened biscuits from oven. Mourn for a moment over the passing of tomorrow's breakfast. Turn off oven. Pop another pepperoni roll. And maybe another Advil.

(Adapted from this recipe and this recipe. I made these super simple this time around, since it was my first try and I was hoping to thrill my pizza-loving husband (he wasn't disappointed). I will definitely branch out next time with different pizza toppings, and I'm envisioning a yummy barbeque version of these, too.)

*For those of you who worry, rest assured: I consumed only a half glass of wine and just one Advil over the course of the evening. I do know that these two things don't mix well in regular-sized doses. Also, know that I didn't actually set anything on fire and had not left the biscuits in the oven for an unreasonably long time... I just have a particularly crabby oven.

Happy (almost) weekend, everyone!

   Love,

    Meg

Five Days

This week has been mostly an extension of last week, days filled to the brim with how-many-more-times-can-I-kick-you-before-you-finally-just-stay-down-there? Without going into detail (mostly because I'm sick of thinking about it, since apparently that's what the middle of the night is good for), I am thoroughly frustrated and exhausted. Still, I'm clinging to a few very important, very happy things:

... these guys never fail to put a smile on my face.

I can't believe they actually stayed like this long enough for me to snap a picture... miracles do happen. 2 seconds after I got this shot, Toby came to his senses and darted towards higher ground, with poor Teddy toddling clumsily behind.

Boyfriend has a bit of a shoe obsession (just like his mama). He loves sleeping next to/on our shoe rack and carrying around dad's sandals even though they're almost as big as he is.

First Wawa trip and cutest picture to date? 

(The pictures that have graced the blog so far are only about 5% of the ones I have actually taken -- the other 95% are of a blonde blur with ears.)

Other things keeping me going:

(holiday food... duh)

(my favorite few hours of the entire year)

(a little illicit Christmas music... hey, whatever it takes to get through this week)

... and last but certainly not least, the fact that in exactly 5 days, I'll be on a plane headed here:

{picture}

On Sunday, the hubs and I are finally headed off to a much-anticipated (and much-delayed) honeymoon. There just are a few rules:

1. no email/facebook/twitter/blogging

2. no guilt over rest days or increased calorie consumption

3. no talking about work, family, or any other stress-inducing topics

4. always say yes to another beachside drink

I think we are set, yes?

... no. I still have lots (and lots... and lots...) to cram into a suitcase.

So, plenty to look forward to. Plenty to smile about, despite all the things trying to convince me otherwise. Say it with me: fiiiive moooore daaaays......

Love,

Meg

Thursday Things

Despite the fact that I skipped my morning workout (for the first time in a whole month!) in favor of a little extra sleep today, my brain is still yawning, stretching, and shuffling its feet a bit. Random, scattered bullet points are as good as it's going to get, boys and girls.
 -- First things first: the magic of fall has officially returned in two of the most amazing, most delicious, most heart-attack inducing bowls you can imagine:

YES, PLEASE.

AND THANK YOU.

I'm telling you, it's the quintessential Thanksgiving dinner, fast-food style. The thing is, though... it's good. I can't say that I've ever had both the turkey bowl and the dessert in the same meal, or even in the same day, but I have a feeling that such close proximity might result in some kind of fireworks. Sadly, I haven't had the opportunity to celebrate the return of either yet, partially because the closest Wawa (where one finds the turkey bowl) is at least an hour away... boo. Unfortunately there is a Dairy Queen not two minutes from our new house, though, so the only thing standing between me and that amazing blizzard is my willpower... ha. What willpower?
 -- Tomorrow night I have to speak to a rather large, rather well-dressed crowd about my dad. Cue the stress headache now, please. I've been trying to write out my thoughts for days now, hunkering down at my desk during lunch to work and then fretting over it for the rest of the afternoon. While I have a lot of ideas, they just weren't meshing well into the short, heartfelt message I wanted to share. So yesterday, I took a hint from my college days: I went straight home from work, made myself some tea, and curled up in bed with a stack of paper and a pen.

The only difference from my college days was the appearance of a snoozing cat at my feet. I didn't mind the addition.

And I wrote... and wrote... and wrote. And cried. And wrote. And once I finally organized my thoughts into a coherent structure and felt comfortable with the flow, I took a celebratory nap.
 -- Speaking of my beloved alma mater, they had a very special visitor yesterday:

Why yes, that is His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet. And yes, he certainly is holding a W&M visor that he wore for his entire hour and a half talk. I watched the live streaming video of his remarks and was so impressed -- he had a truly inspiring message about forgiveness, compassion, and the meaning of religion. I also loved getting to see the professor in the background of this picture -- I took his class on Buddhism my sophomore year and it was one of the best of my four years there.
 -- Yes, now you know where I went to school (if you hadn't figured it out already)... and yes, there are a lot of stereotypes out there. Yes, I am a nerd. Yes, I worked my little butt off. Yes, I still had as much fun as your average college student. No, I wasn't sober for four years straight. Yes, I wish I could go back on a daily basis.
 -- Why do some adults act more like the cast of Mean Girls than reasonable, mature, decent human beings? That's all I will allow myself to say about this...
 -- Tonight: Vice Presidential debate or cleaning my kitchen? It's a toss-up... I have a feeling the dishes might be less painful. Is this damn election over already?
And all at once, my morning coffee is gone and my brain has decided it's time for a nap. I should probably stop while I'm ahead. Takeaway for today? Go treat yourself to a blizzard. You deserve it (and so will I, after I run around the neighborhood a few times this afternoon).

   Love,

    Meg

Let's Be Honest

Funny how sometimes a week turns into two, which turns into just-a-few-more-days, which turns into Hey, didn't I used to have this place on the internet where I wrote sometimes? The past few weeks have picked me up, spun me around enough that my head is a swirly mess and I'm a little sick to my stomach, and deposited me here, three weeks before this major event that I am simultaneously supposed to enjoy every minute of but also ensure runs perfectly. At times, I get faint glimpses of that light at the end of the tunnel -- when I put yet another check in the mail and realize that I don't have to be in touch with that vendor again until the actual week of the wedding, when I press "confirm purchase" on Etsy and realize that I can stop worrying about that particular item until it shows up on my doorstep, when I close my eyes and imagine how sad but wonderful it is going to be to wake up on September 29th and know that I'm not behind on responding to wedding emails anymore. I have finally reached the point where I know, basically, the event will go well. All the major essentials are in place -- there will be a cake, there will be flowers, I will be wearing a dress (and a recently finished veil -- hurray!), and there will be food and hopefully enough wine that everyone will enjoy themselves and overlook any mistakes on my part. Now, we're down to the little things... except that in my perfectionist, detail-oriented obsessed brain, they are all big things too. The sign that goes by the guestbook to point guests toward the ushers? The order of the toasts? The color of one of the bridesmaids' gifts? No topic is too small to cause me undue amounts of stress and anxiety. In many ways, all these tiny details are the hardest -- I can pay a photographer, florist, and chef, but I can't pay anyone to figure out what shoes I want to wear, count and re-count the candle holders, or create an invitation to the bridesmaids' brunch. (Actually, to be fair, I'm sure there are people out there who I could pay to do these things. It's more a question of being willing to pay for all the things that I should be able to get done myself.)
The past week or so, I've thought about this blog every single day. Some days, I've wanted to come back and write. Some days, my thoughts were so tangled that I knew if I tried, all you'd get would be a glorified word web, with little random thoughts poking out here and there, vying for full attention. Some days, I've been worried that if I did write a post, then I'd feel obligated to write again tomorrow, and then the next day, and then the day after that, and just considering how much time and energy that would take sent me into a little bit of a tailspin. So I've stayed away, for your sakes and for mine, using the time to accomplish things and mostly enjoying a little break. Through all this, though, I've been keeping up with my Google Reader (because reading about the lives of others provides me a few minutes of calm every day), and today the fabulous Brittany wrote a super honest post that left me just itching to get back here and be super honest myself. It was just the kick in the pants that I needed to open Blogger for the first time in weeks and (finally) start typing... honestly.

Honestly, I'm exhausted. Honestly, the planning has been very fun and horribly not-fun all at once. Honestly, it feels bigger and more stressful than any paper I wrote in college, any exam I took, any presentation I gave. Honestly, I finally understand my friend when she told me at the beginning of this process "You have to do it once, but you'll never want to do it again." And yet honestly, the toughest part about all of this has not been the rush to get things done, the stress of making choices, or the overwhelming amount of work it has proven to be. The most stressful part has been the doubt.
It started before the first wedding, the tiny wedding, when a small handful of people told me "You're not going to want to do it again. You say you will now, but you won't end up ever having 'the big wedding' you're dreaming of." Those were the words that came out of their mouths, and yet the underlying message said more: you're asking for too much. You don't deserve this. I knew that these few people thought I was selfish for wanting the big wedding of my dreams. They thought I was spoiled, demanding, or just downright crazy. Despite the fact that most people in my life were absolutely supportive and excited for us and completely understood the whole situation, there were just a few people who were able to get under my skin with their own doubts. And for months, these few people kept asking about it: Are you still going to have another one when he gets home? They just knew it was only a matter of time until I gave up the pipe dream. After my dad died, the questions changed tone: You're not going to have another wedding after all that's happened, are you? As if it would be wrong to go through with it, despite the fact that my dad never once questioned my wish to have a "real" wedding.
To combat these doubts, I made an extraordinary effort to make our first wedding memorable but plain, happy but basic. Anything that could be scaled back, was. We stayed far away from all of the typical wedding stuff: no big wedding party, no big wedding cake, no big wedding dress... the list goes on. I was insistent that our small day wouldn't give anyone ammunition to say that I was asking for -- or getting -- too much. In the end, it was a wonderful day in which I got married to my very best friend, but it definitely didn't fulfill those childhood dreams of a big, beautiful wedding with family and friends and lots of celebration.
Despite that effort, the guilt that was sparked by a few people's judgments still manages to find me often these days. I find myself collecting RSVPs and doubting that anyone really wants to come, since we're already married. I go back and forth between thinking that we should go super simple, since technically it's not even a real wedding, and wanting lots of tiny details and everything to be intricate and well-planned and perfect in hopes of impressing people so much that they forget it's not even a real wedding. I feel guilty asking anyone for help, because part of me thinks I really don't deserve this, and if I'm going to be stubborn and do it anyway, I certainly don't deserve any help in making it happen. On the day we drove two hours to Crate and Barrel to do our registry, I sat in the parking lot and cried, telling Dan, "We shouldn't even be doing this! No one wants to buy presents for people who got married over a year ago!" (To the amazing people who have fulfilled so many things on our registry already... thanks for proving me wrong on this one.) I am torn between my intense determination that the day be perfect from start to finish and this nagging little voice in my head that says when other people get married, they say that the day is perfect no matter what because at the end, you're married. You already got the good part... all this other stuff is just filler. And I wonder... will I fall into bed that night exhausted and grinning from ear to ear? Or will I feel like there was a big black hole in the middle of a decent party, where the "point" of the celebration (the actual marriage) should have been?
So there you have it... a little dose of honesty. Just what your Wednesday needed, right?

   Love,

    Meg

Don't Forget the Sunscreen

Dearest blog,

Remember that "wedding blitz" week I declared about a month ago? When I solemnly pledged to get through my to do list or die trying? When I promised to attack things head on, get organized, and banish wedding stress with a steady diet of fearsome dedication and accomplishment? When I proclaimed that I would, for lack of a better phrase:

... and remember how it didn't exactly happen? How I got a lot done, but not everything? Maybe not even most things? How the to do list still looms? How the stress is still steadily gnawing away at my patience? Well.

I'll have you know, dear blog, that this morning I wrote another to do list. Not a to-do-before-the-wedding list. Not even a to-do-in-the-next-month list... because HELLO those are basically the same thing now (hold me). No, today's to do list was just a little old to-do-this-week list. And when I got to three pages, I cried.

There are so many things I need to get done in the next few days it is truly frightening. So many phone calls, emails, thank you notes, lists, purchases, forms, errands, plans... it's enough to send me running for my pillow and a warm place to hide with the kitty until this all blows over. Something tells me, though, darling blog... it's not going to blow over. It's just going to get increasingly more difficult and complicated the longer I put it off. Easy tasks will turn into big scary chasing-me-through-my-nightmares monsters if I don't get them done now.

So between the to do list, the workouts, the necessary hours at work, and the fact that my life is still found mostly in boxes... I think you know where this is going, sweet blog. While I love you to the ends of the earth, things are getting a little crowded around here. Don't fret, though, my dear -- this is good news on your end. I'm taking a hint from two of the smartest guys I know, and like their puzzler, I'm sending you off on... 

So pack your bags and get ready for sand in your toes, drinks by the pool, and long afternoon snoozes. You've earned it, my dear. Send me a postcard from the sunny side of life. Enjoy your time off the clock... but don't forget about me. I'll be there to pick you up from the airport, although I'm sure you'll be so tanned, refreshed, and re-energized that I won't even recognize you. Me? I'll be the harried one in the corner, hefting a huge bag of wedding paperwork and lists, frantically emailing and texting and searching for the best rates on tea candles. You'll recognize me.

Bon voyage, dear blog! Have a lovely week, dear readers!

   Love,

    Meg

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

These babies have been monopolizing my attention of late. Time-consuming, demanding, but necessary. And it's a little hard to complain when they're so pretty to look at! Even our favorite fluffball has been feeling a bit neglected though. Regularly (un-)scheduled blogging will return when all the sorting, stuffing, stamping, and sealing has been accomplished.

   Love,

    Meg

Operation: Wedding Blitz

It's never a good sign when you reach lunchtime on Monday feeling like you've already lived a few days since waking up. When despite the moderate amount you accomplished over the weekend, you feel like the few days "off" left you simply more aware of all the things you have to do and infinitely more stressed. When the volume of yawns emanating from your cubicle is sure to be driving your coworkers crazy, and isn't doing much to help your stress headache, either. When it's not just the number of single things on your to-do list that is daunting (that number has officially hit the stratosphere beyond "daunting" and is now floating somewhere in "terrifying"), but the number of categories said list includes. When you have already determined, this early in the day, that the possibility of a milkshake this evening may be the one and only thing that will get you through until bedtime with a smile...

In a crazy determined attempt to meet all of this stress head-on, I have declared this week a wedding blitz. I am pledging that by the end of the week, that damn list will be significantly shorter, my head will be a little less panicky, and I will be a much nicer person to live with (because the whole point of this crazy process is to still have a husband willing to re-marry me at the end). I am going to send the emails I've been putting off, make the decisions I've been struggling with, and fork over a whole lot more money to some of our amazing vendors. I am going to scour Pinterest and Etsy, create color-coded Google docs and calendars, and obsess over budgeting. I am going to continue to owe my sanity to bridesmaids M and N for all of their help and support. I am going to embrace the phrase "you can sleep when you're dead," and by the end of the week, I am probably going to be counting coffee as its own food group. I am going to get. things. done.

Throughout the week, I'll be posting wedding-type things around here: centerpieces and bouquets, engagement picture inspiration, invitations and programs and paper goods galore, and possibly even a chronicle of my search for the perfect green shoes for my lovely bridesmaids. Posts are likely to be short and sweet and full of pictures. If you're not into that kind of stuff, I apologize and hope you'll come back next week: by then, I'll either have the entire thing planned down to the tiniest details, or I will be face-down in a pint of Ben & Jerry's. Either should be interesting...

   Love,

    Meg

Questions... Served Warm

First, a disclaimer: I make no promises on the quality of today's thoughts. After several straight days of triple-digit temps and 60+ hours without electricity at home, my brain has turned to sludge and I am not at all far from throwing my hands up and crawling into the refrigerator to cry alongside all of our melting food. What I lack in mental capacity, however, I make up in curiosity today. Unfortunately, few of the questions plaguing me today come with answers...

Why did most of our neighborhood celebrate the return of their power on Saturday morning... except for our building? It has been torturous the past few evenings to drive past all the happily lit apartments on the way to our dark and increasingly sauna-like home. In an effort to get the most out of a tiny breeze last night, hubs and I slept on the floor in front of our back door. It may have been slightly cooler (even though we had to close the door during the night when yet another loud storm barreled through), but my muscles are certainly expressing their displeasure this morning. The only silver lining is that our clubhouse does have power, so I was able to enjoy a chilly shower there (which beats an icy shower at home) after working out this morning. 

How long until my ice cream melts? We evacuated most of our food to my mom's extra fridge and freezer on Saturday evening, but I left the ice cream behind as a safeguard in case my core temperature gets too high. Nothing cools you down like a pint of Phish Food froyo.

Why do my legs hate me? After a few blissful months of pain-free running, my right leg decided to hit the brakes on such fun. It has been killing me since early last week -- a different pain than the one I endured for most of the winter, but every bit as frustrating. I have been spending lots of time on the elliptical, which seems to be helping some, but I am so sad when I think of the miles I had planned to cover in the past week.

When am I ever going to pick bridesmaids dresses? I had a little mini panic attack about this one yesterday. I've known basically what I want for a long time, but the procrastinator in me has had a really tough time nailing it down. Now I'm having nightmares about rush order fees and dresses that don't arrive on time and bridesmaids that get fed up and bail. Luckily, this question is easy to answer: today. I swear, cross my heart and hope to still have six bridesmaids who love me at the end of this.

Is summer over yet? I have had quite enough of this heat. My wardrobe can't keep up with this many daily episodes of I'm-too-sweaty-to-keep-wearing-this-and-even-though-I've-only-had-it-on-for-ten-minutes-I-have-to-change-clothes-immediately.

What is the best movie you'll see this year? Thankfully, this very important question also has an easy answer:

Go see it. No really... now. It's ok, I'll wait.

How on earth do those people move so fast? Between the swimming and track trials, I spent most of last week trying to pick up my jaw off the floor and steady myself from the whiplash I endured tracking some of the speediest athletes on the planet. Those people are incredible.

And finally, a rather time-sensitive question that I am currently headed off to answer: what's for lunch?

Happy Monday, everyone!

   Love,

    Meg

Monday Again?

A very busy weekend, a long-for-a-Monday-morning run, and a gloomy day outside have left me exhausted and unmotivated today, even though I have so much to do that I don't think I'll ever catch up. Luckily, my to-do lists for work and life seem to mirror each other: I have emails to send, meetings to set, and a ton of events to plan. (The best part of my new job is that it justifies hours I would be spending on Pinterest anyway, browsing not just inspiration for a wedding, but now a company Christmas party too.) If nothing else, I'm going to get really good at juggling in the next few months, as I try to keep track of three photographers, two florists, two DJ's, upwards of three hundred guests, thousands of dollars worth of food, and case upon case of wine that I will need to drink to stay calm through all of this. By the end of this year, I'm fairly sure either I'll be an expert at this or you'll be able to find my crazed ghost roaming the halls of a certain local venue, a crumpled guest list clutched in its hands, muttering things like "I don't care how you do it, just make the people dance!"

Speaking of wedding planning, I was lucky enough to be able to steal my beautiful matron of honor away from her fiance this weekend so that we could do some more wedding dress shopping! I drove to pick her up Friday after work, which made for a late but enjoyable evening. It was nice to have a few hours in the car to myself, and then to catch up on our lives on the way back home. Saturday, we went with my mom to meet N (another bridesmaid) and check out a few shops in a nearby town. That afternoon, we headed back to my hometown for one more appointment before meeting up with Dan and treating my mom to a early Mother's Day dinner. Then yesterday we headed back up to DC to take M home and swing by Ikea (always a good time). Thank goodness my Sunday night urge to clean kicked in last night for the first time in a few weeks, so our poor apartment got a little TLC. It could still use quite a bit more, but at least last night was a big step in the right direction.

As for the wedding dress status, I've got some thinking to do (soon) and a decision to make (quickly). Without giving too much away (hi, hubby!), I am completely torn. I am in love with a certain material and found one dress that, with a few alterations, I believe would be gorgeous, but I also found a dress in a different material that is exactly the style I want.... so that's a bit problematic. I'm not going to lie, I was waiting for the movie moment when I stepped out of the dressing room and there were trumpets and birds singing and everyone just immediately knew. If anything, I was a little scared that I would try on dress after dress and that moment would never come. I don't think it ever crossed my mind that I would love more than one dress and be forced to make such a difficult decision.

(my favorite Garfield strip ever -- this comic is my life in a nutshell)

So there you have it, several reasons why my brain hurts this Monday morning. This week is going to be another crazy one, but I am looking forward to a weekend which, for the first time in months, has nothing planned. I'm hoping to finally get in that long run I've been putting off for the past few weeks, finish a few projects around the apartment, and spend some much needed time catching up on sleep. If only Friday weren't so darn far away still...

Happy Monday, all!

   Love,

    Meg

Friday Favorites: Short and Sweet

Today, my to do list looks a little something like this:

Work on the left, personal (covertly labeled "other" for the benefit of nosy coworkers) on the right. This is only the 9-5 list, since I have all kinds of other things that have to be done after work: 5 mile run, serious apartment clean, multiple loads of laundry... all fun things, clearly. At least several of those can be done with a glass of wine in one hand. For now, though, the game is called How Many Things Can We Accomplish Before Meg Runs Out of Steam and A. Collapses or B. Bites Someone's Head Off. Fingers crossed for the former.

Sadly, all of these tasks that are oh-so-patiently waiting leave me little time to come up with too many favorite things today. I do, however, have one very brief but absolutely worthwhile thing to share: 33 Animals Who Are Extremely Disappointed in You. Trust me, this is a gem -- fantastic pictures and extremely funny captions. My favorites have to be the rabbits, so here's a sneak peek:

"1. This rabbit feels like you always leave her out of your plans and she is 

beginning to wonder whether it mightn't be deliberate."

And because Toby is just so darn cute, here's my own addition to the list:

This cat is dismayed that you have so many things left to do... 

and yet here you sit.

So on that note, I'm off to get started. Happy weekend, everyone!

   Love,

    Meg

In Which Tess Knocks At Least A Year Off Her Mother's Life

"I took Tess' leash off in the parking lot and she ran right down to the dog park and waited for me!"

Half asleep on the couch, I roused myself for long enough to muster what I hoped was a proud look before shuffling off to bed. Had my brain been truly functional Saturday night upon hearing this information, I might have had a more significant reaction. I might have thought to say to my husband "Don't you think that's a little risky?" or "Maybe the middle of the night isn't the best time to test this?" or "Are you crazy?! This is the dog that doesn't know 'come' and you're just letting her run free??" But Saturday night, I let it go. I curled up in bed while my night owl hubby made a snack and all was forgotten.

Fast forward to last night, when during a lull in the Oscar action I convinced Dan that we should both stand outside in the freezing cold wind while Tess wandered around, sniffed, chased shadows, and possibly (hopefully) used the bathroom. You know, there's nothing like bonding when you can't feel your face or toes. But sure enough, as we crossed the parking lot to the dog park (less than 50 yards away at that point), Dan unclipped Tess' leash and instructed her to "wait for us at the gate!" I could have sworn I heard the dog mutter something akin to "suckers" as she trotted off and disappeared down the hill. I fought the urge to chase her as Dan assured me that she had done so well the night before. When we got to the top of that same hill less than 15 seconds later, though, all we saw was a black blur traveling fast around the fence of the park... on the outside. Headed not towards the gate, but away from it and into the woods.

Both Dan and I started to yell her name, clap our hands, and generally make as many convincing noises as we could, struggling to keep an eye on her as she got further and further away. The one drawback to our lovely dog park, besides the fact that it turns into something like a mud wrestling pit when it rains, is that there is very little lighting in the area, so it is super dark by that time of night. Trying to track a black dog goes something like this...

Eventually we caught sight of her about 100 yards away and down a huge hill, running around in the parking lot of one of the other apartment blocks. We both jogged down the hill, but by the time we got down there she was, of course, gone. Dan headed in one direction and I walked in another, just in time to glimpse her headed down another steep hill and toward the road that leads out of our neighborhood. A road that is lined with trees and eventually leads another very dark, very forest-lined road where cars have a tendency to whip around corners and regularly hit 20 mph over the speed limit. I yelled for Dan and took off.

Of course by the time I got halfway to the spot I had last seen her, she was gone again. Luckily there are streetlights in that area, but even in the light she was nowhere to be found. As Dan headed down the hill on foot, I started back towards home to get in the car, visions of a night spent driving in circles, yelling Tess' name into the dark flashing through my head. I knew that the poor girl had not called our home "home" for long enough to find her way back from very far away, and I was terrified that she was gone forever. I could imagine the phone calls we would have to make: "no, she didn't slip her collar or jump the fence... no no, we let her go...." Worst dog parents in the world right here, ladies and gentlemen.

When I reached the top of the road, though, I happened to look up and across to our neighborhood's office (closed for the night), and who do I see loping towards me from the mail kiosk, just as happy as can be?

That's right, the dog who will remain on a leash any time she even thinks about the outdoors for the remainder of her life. 
I don't know about you, but I always prefer to end my weekends with a freezing cold, terrifying, late-night chase through the neighborhood.

   Love,

    Meg

Great Friends, Great Wine, Great Weekend

As Monday mornings go, this one seems particularly hard to get behind. Maybe it's the cold rain falling that made my morning walk to the gym positively bleak, or perhaps it was the face that I stayed up entirely too late last night throwing together a batch of chili to simmer in the crockpot overnight. Could be that this is the first five day work week I've faced in quite some time. Most likely, though, it's because all I really want to do is go back to our vacation, curl up besides our gorgeous fireplace with a glass of wine and good friends, and continue to ignore the real world for a few more days weeks.

Our home this weekend was absolutely gorgeous. I was a little nervous because I had never seen one of the condos at this resort, but Dan and I were very pleasantly surprised when we walked in. It was spacious, incredibly clean, very well-equipped, and wonderfully decorated:

The real fireplace was by far the best part, and we enjoyed great fires both nights that we were there. There were so many pieces of furniture/decorations that I wanted to take home with me, including these awesome lamps in our bedroom:

We were lucky enough to be joined this weekend by our wonderful friends T, who deployed with Dan, and N, who helped so much to keep me sane here at home. Their adorable nine month old little girl is just about the sweetest thing ever and was so much fun this weekend. We have just gotten to know them just over the past eight months or so, but they have quickly become some of our closest friends, and this little trip was the perfect way to get away and celebrate the five of us all being together again.

Friday night, we snuggled in next to a fire with lots of great wine, munched on cheese and crackers and an excellent pasta dish (thanks to T, who is a fantastic cook), played the game Mad Gab, and stayed up super late just having a ball. Saturday morning I headed to check out the resort gym, which turned out to be pretty nice, and then we packed up for a day of wine-tasting. We took our time and enjoyed beautiful views:

... some great wine:

... and one very happy little girl:

... who especially loved a few fast stroller rides through gravel parking lots with her dad.

We made it to two wineries and had planned to have lunch at the brewery before heading to two more, but by the time we made it for lunch it was almost 4:00, so we postponed the remaining wineries and relaxed over some beer and excellent food:

... and then headed back to snuggle up by a fire, play with the little one, eat a light dinner, top off the night with oreos and milk, and crawl into bed early.

Sunday morning, we woke up to a beautiful view:

I made it to the gym again, and then we packed up, checked out, and headed out to make up for the wineries we missed on Saturday. We ended up tasting at three more venues, picking up several more bottles to bring home, and enjoying a fantastic lunch (fish and chips and a great hefeweizen) before finally waving our white flags. We snapped a few more pictures:

the girls

guys being... guys

... before saying our goodbyes and heading back home, already making plans to hopefully check out another wine expo in February. 

I was exhausted last night (and still am this morning), but it was absolutely worth it. Dan and I are so lucky to have such great friends and as much as I love spending girl time with N and her baby girl, having our wonderful husbands home is perfect. I am really looking forward to lots more wine and dinner dates, late night laughs, and weekends away with these guys!

   Love,

    Meg