Checking in

We are here. We are safe. And we are having fun.

To be continued...

Just kicked in

The excitement! Oh, the excitement!

In less than 24 hours, we will be outta here. I love the Big City and all, but it's time to bust out and have some winter fun. We're going down to the Eastern Shore for a T Family Christmas in a rental house on the bay (I think?) in Maryland. It'll be T's family - parents, aunts, uncles and cousins - no kids yet. So lots of drinking, eating and general hanging out, spanning time.

After a few days with the T Fam, we move on to my parents' house for one night of FAST catching up with my parents, brother and sister, 3 nieces (in town on the one holiday that I'm not there!) and cousin, aunt, etc. It'll be a lot of socializing in a little time, though, because on Monday morning, we fly...to Colombia!

Two weeks in Colombia. As usual, I tentatively think I might have some kind of clue what to expect, while simultaneously feeling sure that I have no idea whatsoever what to expect. I do know that despite every logical part of my brain being convinced otherwise, we will be in HOT weather. So I am forcing myself to pack shorts, tank tops, flip flops even. And a swim suit, if I can find it.

In Colombia, we'll see lots of relatives I've long wanted to introduce to T. And I'll get to show him my family's home in Purificacion where my dad and grandmother were born, and where my great aunts and uncle still live. And for the first time ever, we'll get to do some exploring outside the realms of family. I just can't wait.

We'll fly back on January 9th, the Sunday before my last semester of law school (si Dios quiere) and then resume normal life again, which by then, I suspect, we'll be more than happy to do.

Hooray! Merry Christmas! Happy new year, ya'll!

NaBloPoMo (blackjack edition)

27) Play blackjack in a casino

Sweet!

My bro and I took a bus to Atlantic City yesterday. It was so much fun. And yes, after writing about being depressed, and drinking, and being generally unhealthy, gambling sure does seem like a step in the wrong direction. Haha. But for real, it was something we'd been trying to do all week, and playing a table game at a casino was on my 30 Before 30 list. So there were good, non-self-destructive reasons for going.

And I'm glad we did. Because I started with $20 in my pocket, spent $5 on food, and ended up with $65 in cash on the busride back. My brother and I really just pooled all our money together, a whopping total of $80. But we wound up with nearly $300, which is some pretty good beginner's luck, if you ask me! (Although JC is no beginner.. apparently he played a lot in the casinos around Denver, and got pretty good on one piece of advice about craps - bet on the 6.)

So now I am addicted to craps, feel dangerously confident about my ability to play blackjack, am still amazed that you can order any drink you want and it's free, and will definitely be going back to the AC with T for a date night sometime. (T is in VA this weekend. I stayed behind to catch up on school work.)

Incidentally, I did get my P this morning (TMI or whatever), and I do feel somewhat better today. But I'm also still quite concerned about things I need to change about my lifestyle, and about my mental health in general, and looking forward to having a quiet house again next week, so I can catch up with T and we can make a game plan for improvements in our routine.

One in 10 million

I'm laying on the couch in long underwear, drinking my coffee almost the exact opposite of the way I prefer it. The dryer is running, the sun is shining, and the dog doesn't know it but he's going to the vet in about 90 minutes. Five out of the last six weekends have been spent either away or with out-of-town guests, and I do not intend to leave town again for several weeks. I'm enjoying this moment: settling back in to routine.

However, I am proud to announce that I've knocked off several of the things from my 30 Before 30 list:

#22: Ride a wave on a surf board

Over the last weekend before school started, I was in VA Beach with T visiting his family. Even though we usually spend that time catching up with his old high school friends and lazing on the deck with his parents, the weather was unusually perfect and we were unusually motivated to not be lazy. With minimal cajoling on my part, and enthusiastic prodding on the part of his mom, T loaded his old surf board into the car and we drove downtown to his old surf spot.

The water was extremely calm, with almost no waves breaking on the shore. Couple that with my ridiculously poor upper-arm strength, and I never did get up on the board. Even if I had, I probably would've chickened out and dropped before I had a chance to ride a wave, but we'll never know. Ahem. Anyway, what I did get to do was ride a wave in while laying flat on the board. It wasn't how I envisioned riding a wave on a surf board, but I'm still counting my surf lesson with my hot surf instructor as a win for my 30b30 list, because I made it all the way to the shore while clinging to that thing for dear life. I even got the sand in my suit to prove it!

#29: Go to a farm with my mom

Last weekend, my mom and I went to a farm in Red Oak, Virginia. It was a "working" farm, meaning you could help out with the animals and such if you wanted. We didn't. But we did go horseback riding in the backwoods, past fields of wildflowers, old tobacco barns and hidden whisky stills. We did pet goats and donkeys and rabbits and cows. My mom got to wander through a fenced in area full of various poultry - guinea hens, chickens and...more chickens? And we ate an incredible home-cooked dinner of corn on the cob, barbecue chicken, dirty rice, dill green beans, squash with onions and salad. Not to mention the sweet tea. Precious, precious sweet tea. And we sat on the front porch of the farm house in rocking chairs, looking out over the fields where bulls sat in bits of tree shade swatting flies with their ears. I had a great time hanging out with my mom, and she had a great time being around her "people" (animals). I'm really glad we got to share that experience.

#16: Go fishing

And then this past weekend, T & I had to go back down to VA Beach. (Long story.) While we were there, I requested demanded that we go fishing. Outside the odd outing with an ex-boyfriend or old high school pal, I haven't been fishing since I was a little kid and my grandpa would take us out to the lake by our family's cabin in the Shenandoah mountains. Sometimes we went up to PA to fish with my dad's cousin, who was a skilled fly fisherman and taught me how to string a line.

I'll be honest. The most tantalizing part of the fishing experience, to me, was getting to sit for a couple of hours in a lawn chair, drinking beers and reading in the sun. T gathered up all his family's old fishing gear from the garage, and we set off to a nearby fishing pier that claims to be the longest pier in the Atlantic. (Don't they all claim that, though?) A few dollars and a bag of bloodworms later, we were set up on our own little piece of the pier, with our Yuengling cans, New Yorker magazines and fishing rods cast deep into the Atlantic.

Less than five minutes after we arrived, a guy came over to give us his left-over bait (another bag of bloodworms, a can of nightcrawlers and a box of squid). T caught a croaker in the first hour, and I fretted over whether to toss him back as I bought a bag of ice for the bucket and tried to ignore his death throes. A leathery old man walked up to T as I was hooking a bloodworm and exclaimed, "You're letting her bait your line?!" to which T shrugged, "She insisted" and I turned around to defend myself, "I can bait my own line!" The seaman laughed, cigarette dangling from his lips, and told T, "Hang on to this one. She's one in ten million!"

That may be so, but I never caught a fish :) And to tell the truth, I'm kind of glad.

American Idol & me

Just got back from a night in Baltimore watching the 10 finalists from the 2010 American Idol perform before hundreds (thousands?) of tweens, parents, elderly and at least one homeless man. Thanks for the invite, Mom! Now to bed...

ohgoodgodlongrantingpost

Gah... the last week and a half has been non-stop. After the 4th of July camping/visiting home/meeting new honorary nephew 3-day weekend, we got back to Big City in time to pick up our friend A for 5 days of visiting/staying at our house so he could look for an apartment and a job since he is moving here for the second half of the summer. That week ended with our loading the family (me, T, the dog and our friend A) into the car and roadtripping it back down to Virginia. With a very brief stop off at my parents to leave the dog, we kept going south to Richmond so T could work on a print job all weekend. The drive took 6 hours, which is two hours longer than it should've taken. And when we were in Richmond, I spent the whole time watching a very active 16-month old and taking my former Little Sister out to see Toy Story 3 & go to a belated birthday dinner. T's print job took so long that we didn't leave Richmond until late on Sunday, and after picking up the dog, we didn't get back to the Big City until nearly 3 a.m. I woke up to go to work the next morning and stayed at the office late so I could meet my visiting mom, sister and aunt at their hotel when they got into the city. After schlepping them around the city for a few hours, and getting us all stuck in the middle of a rainstorm without an umbrella, even the wine and mojito I'd enjoyed at my mom's expense wasn't doing it for me. I put them in a cab around 11:30 at night and conked out on the couch in the middle of an episode of the Office. I fell asleep with my bra on. This morning, I was going to go to work but fell asleep on a chair in the living room and decided I needed to call in sick. Which I did, except that at 11 my family showed up so we could all go to brunch. Then I had to walk them around the Market, which was nice, until each of them in turn had a bathroom emergency. We got back to the car, I drove them to another sightseeing part of the city, we parked, fed the meter $1.50, got ice cream and came back 40 minutes later and two minutes too late, to be greeted by a $36 parking ticket. Once they left, I fell back into a blissful sleep until 7 p.m. Then grocery shopped, cooked a very late dinner, watched more the office and got into soft clothes. And then, got into an argument with T about money. Oh, the joys! I just want to crawl under the covers and sleep for a week. Or more realistically, not leave town again for a month.

Camping with the President (kinda)

Mmm... vicodin brain. Camping was awesome when we eventually found a place to camp. My original plan of camping in the Catoctin Mountain National Park failed miserably when we arrived to find the entrance blocked off. Well, before that, I stopped at a little fishing pond and bought a couple ears of corn out of the back of a man's truck. As we got to talking ("Are you all from the city?" he asked by way of introduction), I learned that the President was up in the park for the 4th of July weekend. "If he's up there, they're not gonna be letting anybody near there." Not entirely sure if the man was off his rocker or we had stumbled upon a crazy random coincidence, I kept driving to the park, only to discover that he was right. Barricade.

As we drove out of town, T said, "I'm starting to put two and two together." "What do you mean?" says dense I. "I think that was Camp David." And, um, he was right.

So we kept going until we found an even cooler campground. And Sasha and Malia surely missed out, because this campground had tree houses! (Plus they didn't care we had a dog, plus they didn't have a no alcohol policy, plus we couldn't see any of our neighbors!) We're pretty sure the camp owners just wandered off the Appalachian Trail one day 20 years ago and decided to never come down off the hill. Check it out, this place is awesome! If you're ever camping in Maryland, I recommend it.

Anyway, fast forward three days and my back is absolutely punishing me. I'm not sure if it's from the camping, or from the sleeping in the car on the drive home from my parents. But it feels like someone has been punching me repeatedly with a fist and stabbing me with a knife at the same time, in the exact same spot in my middle back. So against the advice of my medical advisor (T) I just took a vicodin pill that expired in August 2008 from back when I had to get my molars out (or was it when I had to get that colonoscopy after I passed out unexpectedly in a Richmond diner...bizarre medical history). And my head feels nice and fuzzy, an entirely placebic effect, I'm sure, but one that I'm happy to kick back and enjoy. I'm just going to ignore the irony that I just turned 29 and immediately started having back problems.

Soaking in it.

How do I soak up this life that I'm living?

A few days ago, I went home to Northern Virginia. It's where I'm from. I went home to see my best friend, who is 8 months pregnant with her first-born child. I went to hang out in her living room while she worked from home and watched reruns of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, and then we drove over to Babies 'R' Us so I could spoil Baby D with clothes and rattles and various toys that I really can't afford right now. We went out to eat Mexican and spill the kind of kiss-and-tell secrets that only BFFs can spill. Then we returned home so I could cajole her into letting me take pictures of her belly. Eventually, she ran out to the grocery store to buy fruit, in order to entice the baby to kick for me; I settled in to watch the season finale of Grey's Anatomy.

On Saturday, T and I drove down to Southern VA for the wedding of a girl friend of mine's from college. She is the last of "the girls" to get married. She actually got engaged before I did, but she and her fiance put off the wedding because they paid for the whole thing themselves, and they wanted to Do It Right. This was an awesome wedding because it brought together a whole bunch of friends from school that haven't seen each other in a long time. And really, we don't know when the next time we'll all be together under the same roof again. Dancing. It was a blast. Even if I did get mad at T partway through the night for getting a little too loose-lipped with his jokes, and maybe because I was a little exhausted from T's sudden love of dancing. I couldn't keep up with him! All my girlfriends, on the other hand, continue to be amazed that this "quiet" "shy" guy is bending his knees, shaking his hips and getting low low low low on the floor, while most of the dudes are standing on the sidelines watching with detatched amusement. It was a fun time.

We're home now, with another old friend from college, A, one of T's groomsmen. He just got back from an incredible and incredibly fast two (or so) years in Guatemala with the Peace Corps. Now A is here visiting, and I am trying to make the most of my last days before my summer job starts. And trying to really, really soak it in. What, exactly? Just it. Life. Summer. Youth. (Or whatever you call the days just before you turn 29.) My time in Big City. My time with T as "newlyweds". Downtime. So yeah. Life.

Skip the meat.

If you find yourself walking along a busy, but unfamiliar, stretch of highway, looking for something to eat in a hurry, I have a tip for you. It's always prefereable to eat at a roadside restaurant of the Tastee Freez variety, with no indoor seating and a giant homemade sign advertising its world-famous [insert food/drink here]. That much should go without saying. However, if the roadside americana decor includes a proud proclamation that "We use government inspected meats ONLY!" then for the love of God...skip the burger! (Stock up on the root beer though. That s#$t is good!)



This PSA brought to you by JE, the hungriest person stuck in Jersey waiting for the train to Atlantic City on a Saturday afternoon.

Change of plans

Well, we are not going to Guatemala. Our decisionmaking process on this point has been less than stellar, but we finally got to a place where we decided it was best not to go. This decision, while disappointing, was made much easier by the fact that the folks at Continental Airlines were so helpful in showing me how to get a full refund on the tickets. Getting the money back, which we should be able to do, makes the whole cancellation thing a lot more pallatable.

Now, what to do with the rest of my spring break??

In other news, I accepted an offer to work with an awesome local non-profit that does exclusively immigration law. Yay!

What a pear!

My new favorite food is the Bosc pear. Fry it up in some butter, toss in some walnuts and sprinkle dried cranberries on top. Crumble some cheese over the whole thing. Yum YUM! (Or should I say, "Scromph!") One day, I won't live a block and a half from Whole Foods. That will be a sad day for my diet.

I got my blood levels tested the other day on account of some issues with my "lady parts" as my mom so disgustingly delicately put it. Supposedly all is normal. But I am starting to worry that I am pre-diabetic. Wow, this blog is a crazy outlet for my hypochondria! I can't help but think it's doing T a great service. (Now I have the poor unsuspecting internet to listen to my various ailments and suspicions!)

And in other news, T & I went to a dance party wedding this weekend where, for the first time in our entire relationship (i.e. 7 years on Saturday), he kept dragging me onto the dance floor. I'm still not sure what got into him, but after trying to get him to dance at so many weddings, I'm not gonna complain! Even if I did have to hide in the bathroom a couple of times just to get away from him and catch my breath. Even if I did come out of the bathroom once to find all the guys at our table rushing at me saying, "Did you see what T did?! He got some guy crowd surfing!" Even if he literally made me dance my way out to the coffee nook and dance my way back to the table. And even if we did almost knock over the photographer not once, not twice but three times.

T has two theories for his sudden love of dancing. His first is that now that we've tied the knot, he feels like he can kick back and enjoy everyone else's without stressing out about whether we're going to have to do that at our wedding. His second theory is that it's because of something I've told him over and over (at every wedding reception, I'm sure) about how I don't care what he looks like when he dances, I just love to see him having fun. He said it's because of me. Obviously, I like theory #2 better. But they're both pretty good.

And since the wedding was in the deep south of Virginia, I got my good fill of the life I miss here in the Big City. We stopped at a fruit co-op and bought jars of red raspberry preserves and kickles ("pickles with a kick!"). We heard all about how the hotel receptionist's daddy declared on the day of her birth that she would be known as "Mary Cathreen" and how her grandbaby has the same name, so there are now two people on the face of this earth with the name Cathreen. We spotted a headless deer and a vulture (and possibly a deer head in the mouth of a vulture). And at the wedding, we ate mashed potatoes, green beans, lots of gravy and watched the bride and her mom dance to good ol' Rocky Top.

consolation prize

well, i got my ticket. finally. for a while it was starting to look like i might not even get it. an angel at delta airlines basically told me how to fuck with the system and get around their stupid $150 72-hour booking fee. the work around (which involved booking farther in advance and then switching my date) only saved me $50, but it took the fare down to just below the threshold of what i could afford in order to fly down to see my uncle this weekend. so, between my amazing cousin who gave me all those frequent flier miles and the woman on the reservation phone line who helped bring the cost within my reach, i am miraculously going to be able to fly to south america and back in one weekend. (assuming i have no problem at the passport office tomorrow.)

usually when i make this trip, i'm at my happiest. i love going down there to see my family. it happens so rarely and a piece of my heart is always there.

today, i just want to get shit-faced drunk. bring on the aguardiente.

in the thick of it

i'm in the thick of it, in a good way. school is in full swing, with students scurrying along the sidewalks from the main law school building to the other one, clutching cups of coffee and passing off tips about where to find the free pizza. the weather is starting to turn cold. it makes me grateful for the vendor who sells me coffee on monday and wednesday mornings at 60 cents a cup.

we tried a new taqueria today. rather, a loncheria, with $1 bean & cheese tacos and some amazing huevos a la mexicana. it just opened up at the curb market around the corner from our apartment and i stumbled upon it when i accidentally rode the subway a stop too far and had to walk home the long way. eating in a little room with sparse walls and bachata blasting from a boombox behind the counter happily reminded me of durham. t pointed out, as we were sitting around the table scooping up beans with tortillas, that our friend a (who is in the peace corps in guatemala) is eating like this every day. he quickly added: "i think he's sick of it." can't say i'm surprised, as i'm sure i'd be sick of it too after a while. but sometimes i wish i were tucked off in some little village in the middle of nowhere, eating beans and tortillas and speaking spanish.

we went to the countryside this weekend in celebration of our 6-year anniversary. it was a breath of fresh air, both literally and the other way. rolling hills. the smell of autumn. diners with bottomless mugs of coffee. train whistles. scenic routes. what-would-it-be-like-to-live-here?'s. since falling in love with t on that road trip way back when the country had yet to go to war, i seem to always get a little giddy this time of year. pumpkins, train tracks, long drives, and red and yellow leaves = falling in love. somehow, even the worst parts of our history have not eradicated my association of halloween decorations with this little love story of ours. maybe its that the best and the worst times have all happened this time of year, and maybe that's why this time of year my senses become so heightened.

on a less personal note, in just two weeks, it will be time for another gut-wrenching evening of watching the page turn and catching our first glimpse of the new chapter that lays before us. how long, how depressing these last eight years have been for us as Americans. it makes me sad. no matter how much hope there is to cherish, election day must also be a time to pause and reflect on the frightening power of the American people to steer our destiny down its fated path.

Philadelphia, or part of it.

Philadelphia this weekend. T and I left on Friday night, after a brief cross-legged pow-wow to discuss our strategy for tackling the various obligations and expectations that lay before us. The dog was pumped and ready to go.

Three stops on the way up: 7-11 in Hanover county for gas (mood: sour). Wawa in Fredericksburg for food and oil (mood: sheepish). Parents' house in Fairfax to drop off the dog and sleep, briefly (mood: relaxed).

Dad took us to Union Station. Made a conscious decision not to freak out about the time (4:45 am) on our way into the city. Dad said we'd better hurry, usually my line. I adopted his standard laid-back demeanor. "I trust you," I said. And we made it, albeit by the skin of our teeth.

Train ride fast. Snacks in the food car. Sleep on T's shoulder for the two-hour trip. We arrived in Philly, greeted by crazies in the station as we sat and waited for his bro to pick us up.

Twenty-five minutes pass. Bro calls, wants us to meet him and S in South Philly. First chance to invoke the policy of joint agreement. We decide to meet them in Center City instead, on our way to Temple.

Breakfast: delicious. S and I made our way to Temple. T and M went to dig a hole in somebody's back yard.