I think most of your realize this but I moved my blog. If you want to read the new blog, leave a comment and I’ll send you the new address.
I think most of your realize this but I moved my blog. If you want to read the new blog, leave a comment and I’ll send you the new address.
We’ve been in Wyoming for just under a week. I know, right? I haven’t said much about the trip and I haven’t really said anything about it on FB. Last thursday we hopped in the car, Amby in his 1983 Ford Ranger, and drove to the twin cities for the Back to The 50’s car show.
It was exactly the kind of weekend we needed.
I gotta tell you, the Chosens have been under some immense, intense, stress lately. Around every turn we seem to face obstacles so big and yucky that we just want to curl up in a corner. Sometimes just putting some geographical distance between you and your problems helps, at least in the short term, quite a bit.
While Amby spent every day roaming the Minnesota State fairgrounds with my dad, looking at old cars and eating corn dogs, I spent my days with my mom, Tillie, my cousins and my aunt. We went to the lake, to the zoo, shopping. We ate a shit ton of cookies. I ran a lot. Guys, they have delightful trails to run on out there in those twin city suburbs. We played badminton. We drank wine. So much wine.
My cousin Kristin flew in from Seattle, where she is a trauma nurse and my cousin Jane spent her entire weekend with us, even though she was busy with work as a real estate agent. I love all of my cousins, but I was particularly touched that Jane and Kristin put aside their entire weekends to be with us.
Sunday of last weekend marked the 7 year anniversary of Amby proposing to me in New Brighton, MN on the bridge to Long Lake with my face exploding from allergies.
On Monday we hopped in the car and had a very stressful hour of getting lost in downtown St. Paul? Minneapolis? I don’t effing know because I was lost and my stupid iPhone was not helping me because every single fricking road we tried to take was under construction and we had to take detour after detour. I was losing my shit, my friends. I was so not Ken Ken. Amby was ahead of me in his truck and kept missing the turns so I’d try to call him but he couldn’t pick up the phone because he needed both hands to drive his stick shift non power steering truck. Lets just say, there were WORDS coming out of my mouth. Eventually we did get out of the cities and it only took us 13 hours to get home. 13 hours. Thats a long ass time, my friends. Tillie was an angel in the car. She slept the first 2 hours and watched Dora, Olivia, and Pokoyo on our iPad for the remaining 11. We stopped at Pizza Ranch. The Dinosaur Park in Rapid City, SD. We peed on several crops of soybeans. It was an adventure.
So now we are here. I’ve been working all week from the basement while my mom cares for Tillie and Amby works on his truck with my dad. I’ve exercised A LOT. I’ve eaten rocks and sticks. We’ve been to the movies. We’ve been to Walmart (ugh). Amby fixed my parent’s internet.
Amby heads back to Chicago tomorrow night while Tillie and I stay another week. I’m working every day, my mom is accompanying Tillie to the pool every day until we drive back to Chicago next Saturday.
So far there have been no fighting and no biting. Tillie has taken over the living room with her 5 million dolls and their associated Things.
We’re having fun. That’s for sure.
Ha. In 3 months, when Jon Stewart starts talking about the election and calls it Indecision 2012, I’ll be like, Jon, I wrote this blog entry for you.
But, lo, I am not here today to talk politics of the presidential sort. I’m here to talk to you about how, once again, we did not win Ed Woods Film Festival. This time around, my friends, we did a really bang up job.
We started on Friday afternoon. Lindsey and I gathered at her Mansion-Condo (Mansiondo) to roll the dice for our prompts. The choices were:
Types of Movies:
1) Swords and Sorcery
2) Swords and Sandals
3) Swords and swashbuckling
4) Monster movie
5) Rogue cop procedural
1) Robot learns what it is to be human
2) Fun-loving teen paired with wacky old person/mad scientist
3) Majestic 12
4) Confusingly nested narrative
5) Cast of thousands!
6) Brusque mentor figure
We rolled a #1 for Movie Type and we were not thrilled. I convinced Lindsey that we should cheat and roll again. We rolled a #1 twice more. So that was the universe telling us something. Then for the Movie Elements we rolled a #2. Again, I convinced Lindsey to cheat and she was willing. And we rolled a #2 twice more. Somebody who is good with math please calculate the statistics of that happening. Universe, I tell you.
Soon the rest of the cast joined us at Mansiondo and we chose our costumes. We decided that I would be a voodoo priestess in the bayou (this involved me prancing around in a sparkly, mid-drift baring top and commanding people to stop talking. So obvs it was perfect). The rest of the story involved a may-december relationship, betrayal, booze, and the devil’s spawn. Because you can’t have a movie about the bayou without conjuring something a little cray zay. If only we’d been able to film in a jungle…. Alas, I got over ruled when I suggested we scale the barbed wire fence on the vacant lot behind Mansiondo.
Each time we do our movie we get a little better at something. This time we had the idea to record the voices during filming with my iphone, which we later edited in using iMovie. Genius, my friends. All of a sudden the sound issue was gone that we’ve had in the past. It took us 2 hours to film on Friday night and then Saturday afternoon, Lindsey and I edited for 3 hours, which also involved a trip to get fro yo.
After we edited and finalized the movie with time to spare, we uploaded it to sit back and wait for the results to come rolling in. Unfortunately, the third team were once again dumbasses and probably used proprietary music in their movie and have apparently never heard of vimeo and hence, were unable to post their video to Youtube and so were disqualified (you can’t post movies with certain music in it that isn’t considered creative commons on youtube but you can post it on vimeo…a ‘duh). That my friends, left us with a tie. So there was no winner. And no second place.
Robbed, I tell you. Robbed. But that is OK. I feel like it was a fine piece of cinematic achievement anyway. I just kind of wanted to win since it is likely my last Ed Woods Film Festival.
I’m not posting the link to the movie this time because I’ve got readers I don’t trust with the information (you know who you are, hosers). However, if you believe yourself to not be a hoser and are not my fb friend, leave me your email in the comments and I will send you the think, maybe. :)
It is Sunday afternoon so you know what that means. It means I’m lying in bed, one wine in, next to my little beast who is distracted enough by Diego that I can take a sec and give you a run down of our weekend.
It was pretty eventful.
My childhood friend came into town on Friday evening. She is a doctor in New Orleans but wanted to escape the sopping heat to come up to Chicago and run the North Shore 1/2 Marathon with me. On Friday Ambrose went to go get her and we all went to a really fun party at Lindsey’s Mansiondo, where our good friends revealed that they are having a baby boy. Even though I was on team pink, I’m happy for them. Plus there was a lot of roof top drinking on Friday night and blue frosted cupcakes go best with roof top drinking.
On Saturday we were just all out of sorts. Amby made us chocolate chip pancakes and we went to the 31st street beach for the epic new park.
After we were all tuckered out we braved some of Chicago’s traffic for italian ice and sandwiches from Carm’s. Carm’s is real Chicago.
(My mother so very helpfully told me that I look terrible in this pictures. Thanks mom. :) )
We made our way up to Highland Park after italian ice. Of course, Tillie whined the whole way. It was sort of brutal. It is really tough to be 3. But, guys, it is also really hard to be the parent of a 3 year old.
Up in Highland Park we met up with another good friend of Meagan and I’s in high school. I should say, Kara and Meagan were good friends in high school while I always just looked up to Kara as being the nice, sporty, popular girl. And now look at us! Grown up and hanging out like high school never happened! I love that about being a grown up.
Kara is married to Travis. Yes, THE TRAVIS. Travis was my 4th grade mega crush. I used to draw pictures of him and I going out to Gillette’s fanciest restaurant on Kid Pix. Remeber Kid Pix? Yeah. Awesome. He and Kara and their 4 year old live in Madison, WI now. Travis is training for a 1/2 Iron Man but he and Ambrose served as Mr. Mom’s this weekend while the ladies of the family kicked some ass on the racing course.
The race itself had its highs and lows, har har, literally and figuratively. The first 6 miles were lovely, weaving through the fancy nabes of Highland Park, past the Ravinia music venue and past the blue water of Lake Michigan. Things got dicey at mile 7 when we headed out to Ft. Sheridan where we first had to run about a mile in the baking hot sun through a new-ish development. That is when Mama started getting a little grumpy. By mile 8 I was saying Gawwwddddd every few steps. By mile 10 I was fully like (earmuffs), “When the fuck will this fucking race be over….). In 3 miles, thats when.
Ambrose and Travis brought Tillie and Emmy out to cheer us on. I won’t lie, it was really nice to see them at the end when I needed that final push to not stab myself in the eye.
Any time you start to think you want to run a full marathon, just run a 1/2 marathon and that’ll fix ya.
Tillie was just full on over it when I found them a few minutes after my finish. Crying, screaming, punching Ambrose. It was pretty epic. I managed to carry her the 1/2 mile to the car and get her calmed down. It is amazing what the promise of an ice cream cone from McDonald’s will do to improve the attitudes and platitudes of a three year old who is over heated, over tired, and bored as hell.
We had the true suburban experience and ate lunch at CPK and then headed back into the city to take Meagan to the airport.
Back to reality.
But let me just take a second to say how great is it that I’m still friends with my childhood friends and how great is it that we at least share a love of running in common that we can get together for the event.
We had a really rough week last week. A lot of shitty things are going on in our life right now. But I am thankful that I have my health and that I’ve found this stupid crazy running thing that has helped me connect with old friends and new.
And my quads will thank me tomorrow, that’s for sure.
My next goal? Run a race with Mr. Cohen.
(stop being so jealous of our matching t-shirts. it’s unbecoming of you.)
Well hello there. I know. I’m a hoser. I haven’t updated in 2 weeks. Partly that is because I haven’t had anything nice to say. Or rather, as my mother taught me, I haven’t had anything NICE to say. So….yeah.
But anyway, here’s whats up.
-Tillie and I went to a wedding in Palm Beach, Fla and it was fun and miserable all at the same time. It was fun because I was with my family and we got in a swimming pool approximately 500 times per day. Also the wedding band was amazeballs and I danced the shit out of that dance floor. I closed down the wedding. I treated that place like my own personal zumba studio and not because I’d had drinkies. No, because I’m me and I had a free babysitter (my mom left with Tillie at 10.30), I had nothing to lose and I love dancing. I made like 7 boyfriends who high fived me for dancing like a maniac all alone. Wolf Blizter was one of those boyfriends. Well, we danced NEXT to eachother and shared a smile or two. But he was busy with his lady friends. The weekend was miserable because…well…I don’t mean to offend anyone by saying this but I can see why Amby refers to Palm Beach as the 7th circle of hell. Its all exclusivity and fanciness without being interesting or redeeming in any way other than the swimming pools. On one of my runs I did go past some bonkers estates with armed guards on the premises. At least thats what the signs told me. I didn’t test them. It was Florida, afterall. They cray cray down there.
I had a thought today. And that thought came to me after one of the other kids who comes to our nannyshare took a dump in the cat bed and our nanny and her mother left without cleaning it up. “I am so glad we’re almost done with this nannyshare.”
Seriously. WTF. In the words of Michelle Tanner: “How rude!”
Whenever I walk into the bathroom at work and there are people chatting in there I become enraged. I want to say to them, “Please leave. This is a place of business.” Yes, that kind of business.
The bathroom at work is no place to chat! Especially when you work with a lot of women with children. And anyone who has children knows that when you have children you NEVER GET TO POOP ALONE AGAIN. So, is it too much to ask that you don’t chat about your new belt from Target while I’m trying to have some privacy?
My. God. Seriously.
Tillie and I’ve been having a lot of fun lately. And I’m slowly coming to accept that when Daddy is around, I’m equivalent to a cat turd on the carpet to Miss Mathilde. But when its just us apparently we’re cool. Our play time involves a lot of running around with lion ghosts chasing us. Ghosts are scary, guys!
I’m watching TV right now and an ad about shingles just came on. Guys, shingles seriously blow. I got them 4 years ago and I’ve still got the scars and remember how much they hurt and that is saying something since I seem to have forgotten the pain of childbirth and am potentially entertaining the idea of putting myself in that position again. Pass me my wine, I can’t believe I just admitted that. We’ll see what happens. We’ll get serious about taking the fun out of sex by the fall.
Ugh. I’m so ambivalent! I think once I’m pregnant I’ll be happy, maybe. Or once I have another baby I’ll be happy. But the trying to get pregnant part is just so frankly annoying. There is no better way to take all the fun out of your biblical relationship with your husband than to start talking about ovulation and luteal phase and cervical mucus. Stab stab stab.
Wow. Things have taken a turn for the lamesky, amiright?
So thats whats up. Actually, there is a shit ton more up but I don’t feel like talking about it because its basically all I talk about and I’m annoying myself at this point.
For the past 9 months or so, Ambrose and I have been dealing with an incredible amount of stress and during that time, while the stress has dipped and surged, it has generally been building and building and building. These last two court dates have basically been the culmination of everything we’ve been waiting for and with the outcomes of both being bad, more waiting, we’re left sort of clueless as to how to process everything.
And for the past week or so I’ve been feeling bone tired. I didn’t connect the dots until today – which, oddly enough, was the first day I felt happy and in a good mood in a longgggggggg time. You guys, chronic stress is like, an actual real thing, isn’t it? Whats been happening is that I can’t concentrate for long periods of time anymore on mentally taxing things. Which is really unusual for me. And at the end of every day I just want to collapse face down into my desk. Again, this is unusual for me. Work is usually a really positive place for me and all of the personal things I’ve been dealing with lately are bearing themselves out here. I’m doing a decent job of getting everything done but at a huger than normal mental and physical cost. You tax payers should not stand for that!
But for the first time in like, ever, I am actually a little worried about my health. And I’m really worried about Amby’s health. As a lady, it is socially acceptable to process my feelings with my friends, coworkers, and family until I’m blue in the face. For Amby though? He doesn’t have that social norm to lean on and he doesn’t have a close set of friends to process all of this shit with either. The dude is hosed.
And let me tell you what did not help: me being gone last week on the day of our second court date and the following day, meaning he was just forced to keep it all in until I got home to work through all of what happened and moreover, what didn’t happen.
So today I was telling him that I was fatigued in a way that I had never been fatigued before. Not sleepy, not hungry, not physically sore or tired. Bone tired. Exhausted to my core. And he said he feels the exact same way.
One good thing that’s come out of all of this: up until Sunday I’ve been really worried about our marriage. About what this chronic stress would do to our marriage. All of those sayings about love going out the window when money does. So I started reading this book that my friend Kristen gave me that she read during her doctoral research. It is a tiny bit old fashioned in the gender roles department but other than that, really smart and made me feel A SHIT TON better about my marriage. We’re doing pretty good, all things considered. We worked through a little bit of the book together on Sunday and just taking that small amount of time to do that helped tremendously reinforcing our love and all that cheesy crap. I totally get why my parents did Marriage Encounter all those years.
I’m cautiously optimistic today. I’m in a good mood. I don’t feel terribly fat. I’m looking forward to going to Palm Beach to be with my family for my cousin Shayne’s wedding. I was able to get angry about something trivial at work yesterday for the first time in weeks and that is actually a good sign, means I can see past our Impending Financial Doom.
All of that being said, I need to figure out how to heal my body from the damage that the chronic stress has done. And don’t tell me to exercise more or eat better because that is not possible. I exercise like a demon and eat (for the most part) like an angel. I just need……healing. Peace. Calm. Something.
I’ll let you know when I figure it out.
You guys, this week I went full on nerd in the high desert of California. I attended an aviation conference for work and we spent two days at NASA and one day at locations I can’t disclose.
Did you just get a tingle when I said “can’t disclose”? Because I did.
I think I spent most of the week vibrating with excitement. We started off our trip flying some small unmanned aircraft and took several tours of various aircraft hangars at NASA. I got to take a picture next to their XXXXX and snapped some mental photos of YYYY (because most times photos were not allowed).
But anyway, here are some pictures of the desert, which is beautiful, by the way. And hot as shit.
(It’s about 7am PT and it is already 84 degrees out. We spent two hours out on this dried lake bed and were full on crispy critters for the next 2 days.)
(As we first drove down into the desert – well up then down – I was like, this is B.S. it looks just like Wyoming. But as we got further away from the “mountains” it was a full on desert with joshua cactus and everything.)
(Driving out to ZZZZZ location, which was I’m not even kidding, off the GPS. Go to the middle of nowhere and turn left, basically.) Google maps? Forget about it.
I’ve never been through so many security check points in my life. It was so awesome.
After a long, long 4 days in the desert (did you know that when you try to stay on central time you end up getting up at 4.30am, working all day and going to bed at 9pm? Most days my manager and I would work a few hours before the conference, do the conference for 8 hours, and then work 3 more hours. Yeah. Long days.) we went back to LA for our flight on friday morning. I took a walk on the beach. It was amazeballs.
I walked back along Venice just as the crowd was transitioning from the stalls and merchants and tourists to the beach bums, hippies, and full on druggies (what am I in high school? who says ‘druggies”?). I saw no less than 4 groups openly smoking weed in front of police/security. I got offered some medical marijuana (declined, obviously), and saw a bazillion other highly entertaining things (bums sword fighting with PVC pipe, etc).
I tell you what though. I don’t think all the cool things on a work trip in the world are worth the cost of the anxiety emanating from my 3 year old today. She has had three emotional breakdowns because I was pushing the stroller instead of daddy, because I only let her watch two Diegos instead of three, and because I gave her the wrong size fork for her lunch. Also, she has had two accidents just this morning – peeing on the porch/sidewalk, after going several weeks without so much as a misplaced drop.
It isn’t as though I had a choice to not go on this work trip but man oh man is my presence messing with poor TT now that I’m back. In addition to all of that, each time Ambrose and I try to have a conversation with eachother, she starts yelling, “Stop talking!!!!” I know exactly why she is doing that. It is because Amby and I have a lot of serious things to discuss right now and she is highly sensitive to our tone of voice. Part of me wants to protect her from the obvious stress it causes her when we start discussing The Condo Situation, or anything adult for that matter, but another part of me thinks it is important for her to know that we can discuss serious things and everything will still be OK. My friend Kristen says it is OK for her to see Amby and I generally having grown up conversations because it teaches her how to process stress and that we may use our serious voices but it isn’t the end of the world as she knows it. And Kristen is a scientist so you can believe her. I do.
So that is that. Time to recover from the desert for a few days before Tillie and I head to Florida for The Wedding of The Century! Three coasts in a week. Now that isn’t too shabby.