Annie's on the move...

I wrote this a month ago, on our second anniversary, but wasn’t able to post it until now (plaguing computer problems that are now resolved). Just want to get it down before I forget…

It’s the eve of our second anniversary. It’s also the tenth anniversary of 9/11. I remember thinking very consciously about our wedding date, worrying that it would be too close, too soon after that terrible day. Unfortunately it was the only day that really worked for our crazy schedule, and so I went with it despite it not being my first choice. However, I’m finding that in all actuality, it’s become a blessing.

Today, they have featured many somber news events and documentaries on tv. On our trip back from the beach today, we saw countless flags flying at half mast. Newspapers, magazines, blogs, even facebook all carry notes and pictures from ten years ago today. It’s been difficult to relive the events of that day—all the lives lost, the sense of anger and fear, not knowing what would happen to our country. It has made me introspective, sad, but ultimately grateful for my life, my family, and my husband. This attitude of thanks sets the tone for my anniversary, and it’s also a way to find a silver lining in a dark and ashen fog, I suppose.

Year two has been wonderful. We’ve hit a number of milestones—first full year at my new job, Robbie’s first year in his new program, a new house, Robbie starting business school soon. Those events could have been terrifying if we’d experienced them singularly, but together we are brave. Not a day goes by that I don’t love my husband deeply (more and more every day). Sure we fight and argue and we’re definitely not perfect, but every day is beautiful. Even when it’s awful, I’d rather be with him than anyone else in the world. I choose you, Robbie, always and everyday.

This is all terribly cliche, and let’s be honest—I’m a little distracted because Sister Act 2 is playing in the background and it’s one of our favorite movies—but I just want to get some of these thoughts down. Tomorrow marks year two of us deciding to, and committing to, loving one another more than we love ourselves. Sometimes that’s really difficult, and I definitely fail at times, but ultimately it is the best, and easiest, decision I’ve ever made. And I know that will hold true for the rest of my life.

Love you, Rob.

Tasted some wine at Barrel Oak winery over the weekend. It’s just down the road from my parents’ farm, and worlds away from what I (and my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents) grew up seeing in Delaplane. I can be pretty terrible with progress and change, but I’d say this is something I could get used to :).

Robbie and I are in this strange transitional phase in life. We’ve always been a few years ahead of schedule in comparison to our friends… we started working immediately after college, married a year later, bought a house shortly after, and are now thinking about what our next step might be. We’ve always moved through life on a fairly traditional trajectory, and it suits us just fine (although it’s definitely not for everyone).

Meanwhile, we have the coolest, most eclectic group of friends, including one guy who’s biking across the country (read about it here), a friend who splits her time between teaching NOLS sailing classes and working for Outward Bound in Maine, friends in grad and medical school and the peace corps, and a buddy who hosts toga parties on the regular. They’re all inspiring, interesting, and close to my heart, and they’re some of the best friends I’ve ever known. Whether through acts of generosity or general jois de vivre, they have made this world a better place.  

However, as much as I love these friends of ours, it would also be nice to find some friends who share our current lifestyle and similar short-term goals. These will be people with whom I can exchange recipes and Robbie can golf. They will shake their heads knowingly when we say we can’t stay out late because we have to wake up early, go to Lowe’s and begin painting our master bedroom. They will be friends who think that having kids relatively soon isn’t crazy and unthinkable, but in fact something worth considering. Basically, these people will relate to our desire to begin growing roots in this community. Many of our current friends will reach this point in their lives, but not any time soon. And I respect that. I love them for that. And until they’re ready to move to that phase in life, Robbie and I will happily wait for them. I guess we’d just like to have some company while we wait. You know, someone to play Cranium with on game nights. (It’s kind of impossible with two people. We’ve tried.) 

So Robbie and I need to widen our friendship circle and meet new people.  It seems that one of best ways to achieve this quickly is by attending a church in our community. However, I’m having a tough time finding a church that I think would match what we’re looking for in terms of community support and spiritual guidance. Let’s just say that I’m a very liberal spiritualist with a tendency towards Christianity. But I also like tradition (as in, I think I’d have a tough time attending a church that’s held in a gym. I need to get over that, I know). And I want a church with lots of outreach and community service, as well as a strong young adult presence. So far, my church doesn’t exist. And I know because I’ve spent practically all morning looking for it (work is crraawwlllinng and I have nothing more productive to do). I’m realizing I need to compromise a bit and just go try different services, so I have a few on the agenda for Robbie and I to check out over the next couple of months. I’m hoping this helps us find what we’re looking for.  

Have you experienced a similar transitional phase in your life? What have you done to combat it? Suggestions would be most helpful.

FACT: The only French words/phrases I learned and currently remember were pain au chocolat and cafe au lait. Breakfast of champions.

Also, BEARS EAT BEETS.

Versaille was blinding… literally. It was a beautiful day and the sun was out in full force. We had to do the ‘ol Tyra Banks trick and keep our eyes shut until the second the shutter went off. It hurt a little, but beauty (snort) is pain. Also, I can’t decide what’s more tourist-y… Robbie in his bright blue rain coat or me in my obviously “Parisian” black and white striped shirt topped by a scarf. Hmm.

But despite it all, I love this picture.

Versailles… ah versighhhhhhh…..

I want to go back.

It’s five ‘til eight, I am sitting at my desk savoring my first cup of coffee, and trying to steel my mind for the work day. 106.1 (“The Corner”) plays my radio, and so far I’ve been pleased with the John Mayer cover of Free Fallin’, along with the other like-minded, smooth-sounding tunes they’ve run. A good soundtrack to the morning so far.

 

Today’s weather report matches that of the past few weeks—hot. Not just typical late-July heat and humidity, but record-breaking temperatures with heat indices that don’t seem feasible. You’re telling me it’s a high of 99 with an index of 115 today, Norm? That’s just so very wrong. You know what else is wrong? When you go outside to walk your dog at 6:20 in the morning and your glasses fog up the minute you close the front door. “Beating the heat” has consisted of accepting it and conceding to the poor, tired air conditioning. I think I heard our unit sigh last night.

 

Our summer so far has been packed. Of the past nine weeks (I confirmed this with my calendar) we have spent exactly one weekend at home. Last weekend was Robbie’s birthday, and we were able to celebrate it in our very own house. The last time we spent a full weekend at home was in… wait, I was about to write late May, but I just realized that we moved INTO our new home in late May. I’ll be damned, last weekend was our first full weekend in our own house. That’s just sad. We haven’t even had the chance to meet our neighbors! Except for that one mortifying encounter I had when I locked myself (and Sadie) out of the house while wearing my PJ’s (not even cute, matching PJ’s. An old t-shirt and a pair of Robbie’s boxers).  

 

Last weekend was wonderful, though. We celebrated his 25^th right—a trip downtown on Friday night with tasty mojitos from Zocalo, dinner with friends, a Saturday matinee (the last Harry Potter!), homemade shrimp tacos, presents, and mocha silk pie for dessert. Damn, I just realized I didn’t put any candles in the pie. Ugh, I suck. What kind of wife lets her husband’s birthday pass without having him blow out any candles??? See, this is what the summer’s done to me so far, I can’t remember to do basic things like BUY CANDLES AND PLACE ON BIRTHDAY CAKE. (OR PIE.)

 

Before I let this rant and rave continue, I should catch myself and acknowledge the fact that yes, this summer has been packed, but it’s also been packed with AWESOME. Including, but not limited to: bike rides on the C&O trail in Georgetown, trips to the river house, rides on the sea-do (spl?), VACATION IN EUROPE, seeing Wicked in the Kennedy Center, a lazy day by the pool, homemade birthday pizzas, and this weekend, skydiving (not for me, but for my brother). One day when I’m tethered to the area by my children and their various summer activities, I will look back on these days and see just how lucky I was. It won’t be much longer that I’ll be able to sustain this fun and carefree lifestyle.  Right now, our jobs are the only responsibility that Robbie and I really have. We wake up, go to work, come back home, and the hardest decision we make is what to eat for dinner that night/what to watch on TV. It’s very uncomplicated, and feels incredibly special when I realize that it won’t last forever.  That’s actually why we decided to travel abroad this summer—because we had the time, money, and nothing better than to spend it on. I guess what I’m saying is that it felt ok to be selfish and do something completely for ourselves. Europe was amazing! We visited London and Paris, wandered around and saw so much, ate delicious food, drank amazing beer, and just absorbed two cultures entirely different from our own. Even if we go back later in life, it will never be the same as it was now. Trust me, despite my complaints, I am grateful for the freedom my current lifestyle offers.

 

So for now, I’ll continue sipping my coffee, listening to the radio, glancing at the pictures of our wedding that hang on my cube (I should get some Europe pictures printed STAT), and begin easing into the workday. After all, it’s all I have to do today, and that’s a beautiful thing.

Around our house, Sundays are known as cleaning, shopping, laundry days. After working hard to get the house back in order, we’ll often reward ourselves with a delicous homeade meal, one we wouldn’t usually have time to make during the week. However, with the Sunday chores and the Sunday meal comes the most dreaded of tasks… the Sunday grocery list and shopping.

As a creature of habit and planning, I am very methodical about our grocery list. I begin by determining what our meals will be Sunday-Wednesday. Thursday is usually a leftovers or frozen pizza night, and Friday and Saturday we’ll either go out or run to the grocery store for something special. You might assume that thinking of four meals you’d like to eat in a week would be simple, enjoyable even. However, I make it harder on myself because we depend upon our leftovers. Robbie and I are hard and fast lunch-packers. You will not see me running out during my lunch hour to grab something from the deli, nosiree. Additionally, you will not see me whip out a sandwich/carrots/apple combo because honestly that is pretty depressing. Work is hard enough! I want some good food to get me through the day. What you will see me bring for lunch are microwaveable leftovers, hence the carefully timed and planned grocery list and meal chart.

Not all meals yield leftovers, though, so I must be sure to have casseroles, pastas, and soups/stews on Sundays and Wednesdays, and yummy deliciousness the days in between. That’s what gets us through the week meal-wise. As a result of this criteria, compounded with the fact that I expect all my homemade meals to be cheap, healthy, and tasty, there are some weeks where I truly hate writing our grocery list. It’s just not as simple as it should be, but I can’t do it any other way.

If this seems anal and unnecessary, well, you’re probably a little right. However, it’s always worthwhile. By planning a grocery list and packing our lunches for work each day, Robbie and I save a lot of money with little effort (well, little effort after the damned list is written). We can then spend that money on things we love—cool vinyl albums at the local consignment shop (got the Beach Boys yesterday!), expensive coffee from Shenandoah Joe, dinner and drinks on the downtown mall. Oh, and clothes! (More me than Rob. Ok, ALL me. Rob doesn’t care what he’s wearing as long as it vaguely matches.) That’s what I remember when I’m scouring my Cooking Light magazines, one after the other, looking for even one recipe that will provide four to six tupperware containers worth of leftovers. Now, time to stop procrastinating… I have a grocery list to write.

Taken on an afternoon walk with my handsome husband and our sweet Sadie girl. Oh that every Sunday could be this relaxed.

Things I like: taking pictures of random objects around my house with my retro camera app. Hours of entertainment here, people.