Happy Halloween!

I love Halloween! It’s the dawning of the holiday season!  For the next two months, life is chock-full of heavenly food, jolly gatherings with family & friends, and the spirit of gratitude, giving, and love. Toss in football, cool weather, and pumpkins, then you tell me how can anyone say that Fall is not their favorite season?? I mean really, people!

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In other news…

…I have been growing my hair out for about a year and a half now.  I wanted it swept back into an up-do (sans tendrils, of course) for the wedding, so I just kept growing it all last year, and now we are nearly 10 months past the Big Day, and she’s still a-growin’.  My hair has never been this long before.  I’ve been too busy to give it much thought, so I have been getting trims when the mood hits me, and on a daily basis, I simply blow-dry and straighten. However, it must take styling your hair in someone else’s mirror to gain a different perspective on what it truly looks like, because I realized this weekend in the mountains that it looks rough.  Like really rough.  My hair is very fine, so now that it has gotten this long, it’s just stringy and flat-looking.  All I need is a center-part and I could have been a dirty hippie for Halloween. Why no one felt the need to tell me how bad it looked, I don’t know, but I have made the executive decision to trim her back to a much shorter length.  I am eagerly awaiting my hair stylist to call me back so my long locks can have a pleasant visit with her shears as soon as possible.

...I’ve temporarily lost my mind because I am contemplating signing up for a half-marathon.  I ran the Kiawah Half Marathon several years ago, and if you had asked me the day after the race, I would have said that I would never (NEVER) run another half-marathon in my life.  But oh, how time muffles the memories of the misery I endured, and now, I am itching for #2.  Having a set running schedule with a definite goal at the end really helps me to get on track, stay on track, and hold myself accountable.  Not to mention, I lost 7 lbs during training while eating anything I wanted.  I would be a complete liar if I did not admit that this is my main motivation for running.  I really cannot imagine anyone deciding to run un-godly distances for any other reason except gluttony without the evidence amassing on your stomach and thighs.  Now, I just have to commit to this and pick a race…

PS: If you are looking for a great resource for training schedules for all running abilities and lengths of races, go to http://www.halhigdon.com/.  I used the 12-week Half Marathon Novice schedule for Kiawah and I will be using it again.

 … Most of Publix’s “store brand” items are satisfactory and high-quality, but please remind me to never buy Publix-brand cottage cheese ever again. It’s disgusting. That is all.

... and lastly, I was interrupted while writing this post to open a door and find a non-costumed trick-or-treater with a puberty 'stache and a deep voice.  I vote that should be grounds for disqualification.

Hope everyone enjoys their Halloween night!

Patience is a Virtue, whatever that means.

I’ve always considered myself Type A.  I toss around the term Type A like I am a psychologist and know exactly what I am talking about.  Like I have been officially diagnosed with a mental disorder.

The other day at work, I was quite frazzled due to a slight imperfection in a certain spreadsheet, and I laughingly told my co-worker "I have to fix this or it's going to drive me nuts. It's my Type A tendencies." And they shook their head and replied "Bless your heart."

At that moment, I realized that I have never looked up the true definition of "Type A", and that maybe I am not Type A at all.  Surely, I am not defined in a category that warrants a "Bless your heart."

The American Heritage Dictionary defines Type A:

Of or relating to a behavior pattern marked by tenseness, impatience, and aggressiveness, often resulting in stress-related symptoms such as insomnia and indigestion and possibly increasing the risk of heart disease.

Well, now it’s officially confirmed. I’m Type A.

I will admit it. I am a total control freak.  I can be over-assertive.  I fuss over the simplest of tasks and turn them into monumental "perfectionistic" undertakings.  I am a take-charge kind of lady.  I get way too involved in things due to the fact that my inner me cannot stand the thought of something going wrong or being incorrect if I am not there to fix it (Aside: Group projects were not my forte’ in school, as I wouldn’t let anyone else in the group do anything- My group members were my hostages. Yes, I was that girl you either a) hoped was in your group because you were slack, or b) prayed to the heavens above wasn’t in your group because you are Type A as well, and I would make your life a living hell). I like to have a road-map, and I’ll be damned if I don’t follow it to the diminutive details.  For a moment, imagine wedding planning with me... It makes me cringe, too.

I have this mental vision of me charging up a snow-covered mountain with nothing but a flashlight and a hunting cap, ready to conquer everything on the rugged path to the top.

Most of all (if you can even fathom that it gets worse), I am impatient.  This is something that I have struggled with my entire life. I am impatient about the simplest of things (waiting on a return phone call or email) to more important life events (just ask David how much I bugged him about proposing to me).  I handle everything with a sense of urgency, so I have a hard time understanding or being empathetic when other people don’t, or when life is not producing for me what I want or need right now.

How selfish and narrow-minded of me to expect others to work on a time frame that I find appropriate? How naive of me to think that God is going to give me what I think I need, as soon as I ask for it?  Who do I think I am?? I am not God. I am not a puppeteer.  I don't have control over others.  The only person I have control over is myself.

Time and time again, I tell myself to take a deep breath, let go, and allow things to happen in natural progression. I don't need it all right here, right now, packed neatly in a big box with a pretty bow.  If I had everything I could ever want at this very moment, what do I have to look forward to?

Patience is easier to exude when things are going my way. The true test of patience is when things go wrong.  From feeling my chest tighten when the end of the business day is drawing near and I still haven't heard back on an important work issue, to the uncertainty surrounding life-long careers and planning a family.  Uncertainty is life.  I just need to learn to be content to let life unfold on its own.

It's been a daily struggle to realize that patience is not being passive and a flimsy pushover. It's having the confidence that God will give me what I need and provide for me when the timing is right.  He has a plan for me and just because I am not privvy to the playbook, it doesn't mean that I can't play in the game. I need to enjoy the surprises (both good and bad) each day and take them all in stride without being easily agitated or worrying about what's next. Obviously, that's easier said than done, but isn't that how life is intended to be lived?  Being wholly in the moment?  Living today as if it's your last?

I am reminded of something a wise scholar, Ferris Bueller, once said...
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens

In true “Sound of Music” fashion, I am going to start using my Friday posts to share a few of my favorite things.

 … these are a few of my favorite things… At Sam’s Club!

David and I recently joined Sam’s Club (we are not blessed with a Costco in town) in an effort to buy household essentials in bulk and save some moolah.  I have observed that in the 3 months we have been members, that I have not purchased any “staple” goods in bulk.  No paper towels, No toilet paper, No shampoo, No vitamins, No frozen lasagna.  I have purchased a gargantuan bag of Craisins, which I do consider to be a household necessity, but other than that, David and I spend a portion of our Sunday afternoons, wandering the bewildering aisles aimlessly and buying frivolous things. Things that I have determined I now cannot live without.

True North Almond Pecan Cashew Clusters. O my Word.  I am not a huge “nut” person (no pun intended), nor am I big-time “snacker”, but these may be the tastiest and most addictive snacking item I have EVER come across.  Under the orange roof, we chomp through 24 oz. of these little treasurers each week.  Even Sam will hear David pull the bag out of the pantry and will high-tail it for the kitchen and beg for a morsel of crunchy bliss.

 

  

Artisan Fresh Spinach Artichoke Dip.  I grabbed this in last-minute beach-trip shopping desperation this past summer.  I figured that after a few glasses of wine, no one would notice what it tasted like anyway, nor would they really care, so I took a gamble.  It wound up being delicious!  The dip comes in a 24 oz container (so it’s perfect for a crowd) and can be found in the refrigerated section.  It will knock your socks off.  The container suggested simply heating in the microwave before serving, but if you want to dress her up, I would suggest putting her in your own dish, dusting her with some freshly-grated parmesan and asiago and letting her hang out in the oven for a spell.  A la Homemade. Sort of.  PS- I have tried the dip cold as well, and it’s nearly as delicious.

 

Two-Bite Brownie Red Velvet Cupcakes. Some of you may be familiar with the “Two Bite Brownies” that you can buy at some grocery stores… Ring a bell? No? Anyway, check out your grocer’s bakery for these because they are pretty darn good.

I don’t discriminate against any sort of sweets.  I have an equal-opportunity sweet tooth.  If you ask me to name a dessert I don’t like, I just can’t do it.  No lie.  Really, the only thing that I can even think of would perhaps be Strawberry Rhubarb Pie, but I don’t really know what that tastes like- it just sounds gross.  If I tried it, I’d probably like it though.  I am a sugar-fiend.

Anyway, I digress.  Last weekend, in searching for a tasty treat to serve as dessert at Book Club, I stumbled across these guys.

They are not your typical pre-packaged, stale, processed-tasting, too-sweet cupcakes that you would normally find in a grocery store.  These two-bite cupcakes are o-so-soft and o-so-yummy! And the best part, one cupcake only has 100 calories and is completely satisfying.  Even I, the fructose glutton, can enjoy just one and be done.  How’s that for a decadent dessert that won’t add dimples to your thighs??  Once again, arrange these all nice and pretty on your own platter, toss the plastic container, and just bypass all questions referring to if you made them.



Happy Friday!

Life is Beautiful

Today at lunch, I stumbled across the below link that was posted as some one's Facebook status.  I have to share it with you. It is a video from Des Moines, Iowa's KCCI news station.  It shares a story about an elderly couple that was married for 72 years and passed away holding hands with each other in the hospital. Not only was their life together a testament to God's gift of marriage, but also to the infinite power of simple, true love.

I sat here sobbing like a child, covered in goosebumps from head to toe, watching it, and now I am going to have to wash my face and put on make-up again before I head back to work.  So don't say I didn't warn you.

Couple Married for 72 Years Dies Holding Hands

I can only pray that David's and my marriage is as fruitful, loving, and complete, as this sweet couple's was.

 

Yikes Stripes!

Besides all things gray, stripes have become my latest obsession.  I'll take stripes on just about anything. Horizontal. Vertical. Diagonal. Chevron. I have no preference. However, I do have quite an affinity for gray stripes, in particular. Back before our honeymoon, I found a gray-striped bikini from J.Crew and I might have squealed really loud at work when I discovered it online.  Hey, what can I say, I'm easy to please.  And, let the written record reflect, I hardly ever shop online at work. Hardly ever.

I recently painted our half-bath floor with white and brown stripes, but it's not quite finished... Surprise Surprise!  RADD in its truest form. (I suffer from Recreational Attention Deficit Disorder, if you missed this.  It mainly manifests itself by preventing the afflicted from ever completing projects.)  Once I complete the project, I will post pictures.  Hopefully I will still be in my twenties when that time comes.

So since it's a Monday and I don't have many clever things to say today, I will leave you with a glimpse into my dreamland of stripes!

Stripes upon Stripes

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Parquet Flooring gets a facelift

  I could twirl and twirl in this sassy little thing

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Wowzers. Fruit PUNCH in your face!

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Jailbird.

Shabby Chic.

Take me to the citrus circus

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My oh my!

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Cantelope Stripes

 

Change your stripes every day!



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Dear Mr. Gray Striped Couch, Can I live on you? Love, Sara

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Here I Go Again On My Own....

This weekend, I got to revel in the glory days as a single girl, as David packed up the clubs and headed out of state on a golf trip.  I would be lying if I didn't say that had mixed feelings about being alone all weekend. I would miss having him around, of course, but I was also looking forward to the prospect of sleeping in the dead-center of our bed, starfish-style and undisturbed.

If this weekend had occurred 2+ years ago, plans would have been established days in advance to hit the town, paint it fire-engine red, and make good and sure I couldn't move the next day except to fumble blindly in the medicine cabinet for the Excedrin before collapsing back in bed.

O yes, I have concluded that I now march in line with the Army of Adults... I fell into formation like an honorable soldier and didn't realize it was occurring... until it was too late. I know this now because I was not excited about David leaving town so I could head out with the girls and pretend I was 21 again, but because I had a to-do list about a mile long and needed complete isolation in order to get it all finished.  And, for the record, this "to-do" list did not include imbibing a bottle of red by 9 pm on Friday evening.  In fact, the only wine I drank this weekend was a glass of pinot at dinner last night. With my grandmother.

And Friday night consisted of a couple of girls taking the dogs on a walk, Mexican for dinner, and a quick trip to the grocery store to satisfy a severe cookie cake craving (we painstakingly chose the one with the most frosting to the utter amusement of the lady working in the bakery) and watching/snoozing through Dateline. 

I also...

Completed the task of pricing and dropping off my items for the Junior League Clean Sweep Sale so David will quit complaining about the pile of junk sitting in our shed and crowding his lawn tools...

Took this little face to play with my parents pups, Sam's Aunts, Mabel and Lois (I took this picture a few weeks ago, and couldn't believe how much gas prices have come down!)

Did a little bit of ironing... my least favorite activity on this green Earth. I even ruined a shirt. Word of Advice: do not iron cheap polyester unless you want your clothes to look like swiss cheese.

Finished up my wedding thank-you's while sitting outside and enjoying the sunshine... Victory! You have a full year to get them in the mail, right?

Grocery shopped and enjoyed really delicious Greek Lamb Burgers with David tonight...

And finally... washed A LOT of laundry (most of it had already been put away before I took the picture)

And, five loads later, in admiring my handywork and feeling a sense of accomplishment with the sea of folded laundry before me, I observed that the majority of last week's laundry was my running clothes.  Running shorts, sports bras, socks, and t-shirts.  I reviewed the past week in my head and recalled that I did not go to the gym or go running one single day last week.

Every day after work, I come home and put on work-out clothes, even if I am not planning on any more physical activity than sitting on the couch, holding the remote control, and switching back and forth between HGTV and Food Network.  And, on the weekends, I wake up and throw on yoga pants and a t-shirt even though I slept through the 9 am Yogalates class at the gym.  I do this because I am... apparently too lazy to put on real people clothes.

Abruptly, I had this horrible flashback to a Tide commercial that I always smirk at and think to myself "What a travesty that this poor woman is too lazy to get dressed!!" 

That poor woman is apparently me.  Who's laughing now??

Just a thought...

It's been said that music has the power to move people; it is the universal language; when it hits, you feel no pain (thank you, Mr. Marley), and all that jazzy mumbo-jumbo, but is it just me, or do random songs that come on the radio or pandora, or are shuffled through on the playlist on your ipod, or are in a movie, or play spontaneously in your brain, remind you of specific events or time periods of your life? (excuse my horrendously long run-on sentence.)  I am not saying that every once in a while, a song comes on and you are like "Ahhh, this makes me think of that time I went to the beach in 1999 with so-and-so and we went to the Garden City arcade and bought rub-on tattoos and grape Slushies!"... I am referring to pretty much every other song that you hear on daily basis.  Is it just me?  Because I would venture to say that 50-55% of the songs I hear on a daily basis remind me of something or someone or some time in my life.

The reason I bring all this up is because today, as I was driving home from work, the most random song came on the radio... and I am sure some of you have never even heard of it because it's really a terrible song.  "In Your Wildest Dreams" by Moody Blues.  I wouldn't bother you-tubing it, and if you do, make sure your volume is down so you don't embarrass yourself.

I have this memory of being little and finding an old cassette tape in my dad's car, circa 1989, and jamming it in my Playskool Cassette Player, and carrying it around the house on full-blast, completely enchanted by the absolute gayness of this song.  I also have this memory of me with a friend (I am foggy on who it was though) making up a dance to "In Your Wildest Dreams", complete with four wobbly summersaults in a row, as a grand finale'.  I think I wore the tape out, and it finally was ejected from the Playskool "stereo" in streams of metallic ribbon.

Anyway, everytime I hear this stupid song, I am taken back to those days, and remember it all so vividly.  And it makes me ache inside with longing to be a child again.

Music is a funny thing.  Just a thought.

Viva Las Vegas!

David and I spent 4 long (looooong) days last week in Las Vegas for a conference for CB Richard Ellis, his company. There was a large group of David's co-workers and their spouses/significant others going, which ensured it would be a fun time. Even though I was a Vegas Virgin, I felt like I had a pretty accurate mental picture of what all Sin City encompassed. Vicariously, I had been there 100 times before, since I've suffered through countless anecdotes from friends and family over the years, have seen Vegas Vacation at least 2 dozen times, the Hangover half as many times, and the Vegas Commercials make it pretty clear that "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" (I don't think anyone I know who has gone to Vegas has seen these commercials because they are more than happy to share their sketchy Vegas tales with me upon their arrivals home). 

So, to adhere to the renowned Vegas slogan, I won't give you a play-by-play of my holiday. I'll give you a quick run down of the high points and the bottom line.  And, as a spoiler, I will give you the bottom line first.

If it is possible to be both completely over- and under-whelmed simultaneously, then I achieved it.  I now understand people's fascination with Myrtle Beach.  Myrtle Beach is Las Vegas' poor, unfortunate cousin.

Here were two of my assumptions before I went to Vegas.

1) Vegas is clean.  While there are janitors everywhere you turn, sweeping up trash on the sidewalks and picking up empty drink glasses, if you look closely enough, Vegas is dirty. You can smoke inside. It seems like no where is off-limits for you and your nicotine habit. Inside casinos, hotel rooms, restaurants, clubs, stores, in a bathroom stall, on the sidewalk, on the bus, in a taxi. Wherever you want.

Go ahead, light one up, big boy.  No one else seems to mind that they are choking on your second-hand smoke.

Also, the carpet in the casinos is filthy. They are patterned with ugly colors to hide the stains and foulness, but my trained eye picked up on it right away.  No fooling this girl. I am guessing they don't have Stanley Steamer in Nevada.  If I dropped anything on the floor, short of my phone or a $100 bill, I may have just left it there.

2) How can anyone find gambling to be addictive? This mindset was tossed out the window the first morning at 7 am, when in our jet-lagged awakeness, David and I went to an early breakfast.  We witnessed scores of post-menopausal women in the casinos, sitting at the penny slots with cigarettes dangling from their teeth, eyes glazed over, and their wrinkly hands jabbing at the buttons on the machine like they had been sitting there all night (which they probably had).  Squandering away their life-savings on an apparatus that twinkles and chimes and dings like a child's toy and is set to only pay out every so often. Really??

However, I did play the penny slots one evening (solely in an attempt to catch the attention of cocktail waitresses to score free vodka drinks, which worked nicely and relieved my wallet of forking out $14 per cocktail for a short time), and I will admit that there is something oddly habit-forming about those slot machines.  The eternal hope that the next round you will hit the big money starts to hijack your rational thought process.  Thank goodness we had dinner reservations at Tao which I was really looking forward to, or David may have found me perched on the same stool the next morning with an empty wallet, a cigarette habit, and dozens of new lady friends.

To wrap it up, here are a few pictures from the week...  I only took pictures of the pretty things I saw, but now I wish I had taken pictures of the ugly/awful things because that's always much more fun to look at, right?  My apologies.

Our Suite at the Venetian- I give the Venetian two thumbs up!

Beautiful Mountain View from our room

Outside the Bellagio

Inside the Grand Canal Shoppes between the Venetian & Palazzo- INCREDIBLE!

Breakfast at Le Cafe Ile St. Louis in the Paris before the guys headed to a seminar and McKenzie and I went exploring (i.e., the blind leading the blind)

Dinner at Tao

Are you so sure about that?

 The Playboy Club with all the CBRE ladies

A real-live Bunny (Don't worry, I wasn't very impressed either.)

Private Bare Naked Ladies concert for Conference Attendees- This is going to sound super dorky, but they put on a fabulous show! I'd pay to see them again!

BNL Lead Singer, Ed Robertson. 

Taxi Driver told me this was the Wedding Chapel from the Hangover. Wanted to go inside and witness some short-lived nuptials for myself, but not enough time...

Gold & Silver Pawn Shop from Pawn Stars. 

This was on our list of "must-see" places in Vegas since we watch the show religiously. HUGE let-down. Chumlee was nowhere to be found and they didn't even have anything neat to look at inside. A bunch of junk.

 Historic Fremont Street.

All of the original casinos are on Fremont Street.  On our last day, we couldn't bear another moment on the new Strip, so we headed over to the real strip.

Heart Attack Grill.  Over 350 lbs. Eats Free.  I wish this was a bad joke.  They advertise that their milkshakes are made with an entire stick of butter. Gag.

More Fremont Street Casinos

Does anyone else remember this cowboy from "Honey, I Blew up the Kid"??

More Fremont Street (Yikes couldn't be a more appropriate word)

 The Aftermath- these boys finally rolled in around 6 am on the morning of check-out for a few hours of shut-eye.



Happy to be heading home! Goodbye, Vegas!



Ohhh Baby!

The blog has taken a back-seat over the past week as I tagged along with David to his work conference out in Las Vegas. Never having been to Vegas, I didn't know what to expect, and I am not sure I can accurately describe this experience in words just yet...  We caught the 1 AM red-eye back from Sin City and arrived in Charlotte today at 11 AM after an unpleasant lay-over in Minneapolis at 6 this morning.  Needless to say, I am jetlagged, grumpy, confused, cross-eyed, and am starting to think that I have been living in some alternate universe since Monday.  The meaning of out-of-body-experience is becoming clearer and clearer as this horrid afternoon drags on.  I am holding out for a 7 PM bedtime.  More on this tomorrow when I can think straight.

In WAY more important news, one of my best friends from college, Francie Austin, and her husband, Matt, welcomed a 6 lb. 9 oz. bundle of sweetness to the world yesterday afternoon! 

Happy Birthday, Charles Marshall Austin! 

You are so very lucky to be blessed with a Mommy & Daddy that are going to love you to pieces and make sure your life is lots of fun!

 

This little yawn absolutely kills me!!

How fabulous Francie looks 30 minutes after birthing a child kills me, too.

Sweet little Marshall