Monthly Archive

I am not at work today because after stepping off the elliptical this morning, I felt…well the best way to describe it is not right. I didn’t feel right. I went over to the mat to stretch and decided the best thing to do was to lie on my back and compose myself. After a few minutes I felt a little better so I headed over to the weights. But that was short lived…because the not right feeling was not going away. Blah.

So I’m home today, hoping that I’m not getting sick, because honestly, who wants to be sick in May? My guess is that the fried ravioli appetizer I had last night (yes, thighs, I hear you. Stop yelling at me.) was not the best thing to eat. Either that or the chicken caesar salad was bad, but I refuse to believe that. It was just too yummy.

I will not be updating the shoes on the sidebar today because I am not wearing shoes. Just slippers. And there will be no pictures of bare feet on my blog ever. I did purchase two lovely pairs this weekend so you can expect them to make an appearance in the coming days.

Also, His Mother left a message yesterday saying that she tried to call me but the number said it was out of service. As it turned out, when giving her my number Michael substituted a 3 for a 4 by accident. (An honest mistake when he calls me by hitting speed dial 1 on his phone. Honestly, how many numbers do you know by heart anymore?) She made it quite clear in her message that she didn’t think the mix up was an accident. Great.

So now I know she’s really going to call. I was hoping it wasn’t going to happen but apparently I cannot avoide her forever. FUN.

Last night was my long overdue hair appointment. When my stylist spun me around and I faced the mirror, a lighter, bouncier, blonder reflection stared back at me. I loved it. The dreaded headband of dark roots was gone (note to self: never go seven weeks between highlights again. Ever.) and the layers had been cut back in.

As I was waiting at the desk to pay, I glanced down at my new RI license and realized that the person in the picture was not the brunette I always define myself as. In that picture, I am blonde. And have only gotten blonder since.

It got me thinking. I have always been proud to be a brunette. My mom taught me that brunettes are smart and sexy. I associate with brunettes. The majority of my close friends do not have flaxen locks and those who do are sassy and intelligent. Not to say that blondes are dumb, obviously, but I think there is an automatic assumption that darker hair equals smarter women.

So what does this say about me? For the past year I’ve been choosing to lighten my hair, to take steps away from the natural me. And as much as I am convinced I’m doing it only because I like the way it looks, is there maybe something more to it? Do I want to be a blonde because blonde equals sexy?

Are things as trivial as the size of my jeans, the number on the scale or the color of my hair defining who I am today?

This morning I looked in the mirror again. A woman in a sweater and jeans stared back at me. A woman who went to college, who holds a job, who is smart, funny and sexy regardless of her hair color. A woman who is not defined by the gold in her hair after all.

Only enhanced by it.

Michael and I never fight. Ever. We may jokingly banter about leaving dishes on the counter or shoes in the hallway, but never about anything serious. Which is why the argument we had this morning, while not serious at all, threw me off.

I had set the alarm for 5:45 because I thought maybe my back would be better today. (Side note: it’s not. Massage appointment tomorrow because OW.) I had woken up about 20 minutes earlier and realized I was still in pain, but didn’t give the alarm a second thought. Since it’s on Michael’s side, when it began to buzz and I ignored it, he got pissed. After hitting the snooze button three times he slammed the alarm off and grunted something that I didn’t catch. I could tell he was annoyed, though.

When I brought it up at the more respectable hour of 7 a.m. he yelled at me! Basically he was mad because even though I decided I wasn’t getting up, I didn’t turn off the alarm. And because of that he lost some sleep.

Fine, OK. I get it. But I was also annoyed and wasn’t letting it go without a retort.

“I think it’s funny that when the alarm goes off at 4:30 you hit the alarm three of four times and interrupt my sleep. I also think it’s pretty rude that I showered last night because I know you had to work this morning and I’m getting up now to make you lunch!”

“When the alarm goes off at 4:30 it’s for work!”

“Yeah, we all get it. (We? Apparently me and the dog equals “we”.) Mornings are tough. Deal with it!”

And I stomped downstairs flustered and upset. Fifteen minutes later he came downstairs and teased me and hugged me. All was fine again, of course. I guess neither one of us is a morning person.

On an unrelated, yet very cool note? My boss left a comment on this post that just made my whole day.

Now I have to get back to work so he keeps leaving me nice comments.

Has it really been three weeks already? Actually, this week has been kind of a wash. I fell asleep on the couch Sunday night and when I woke up I had the worst back pain ever. Right under my shoulder blade felt like a charlie horse and it was sending shooting pain up to my head. When I woke up Monday it was even worse so I skipped the gym to rest it.

Well, it really hurt yesterday and this morning too. Commuting and sitting at a desk don’t help. So yeah, that’s three mornings lost that I’m not proud of. I’m going to work out tonight, even though I really hate the gym in the evenings, because I’m mad at myself for slacking. I really could have gone this morning. 

So because of the set back, I’ve decided to wait till week five to weigh myself. But! Today I am wearing the adorable cropped black pants that I love so much, the very pants that Michael shrunk last summer. The same pants that I had to leave in my closet time after time because I could no longer button them without constricting my breathing and leaving button imprints in my stomach.

Today they fit.

Perfectly.

This is progress, I know. No matter what the scale says in two weeks, I know I’m improving. That I’m becoming healthier.

I’m actually pretty proud of myself.

I was tagged by Alissa. Fun!

A - Available or Single?  Isn’t that the same thing? Definitely taken by a tall, dark and handsome man.

B - Best Friend? Michael. But I have to agree with Alissa that “when it comes to girlfriends, I have a committee.”

C - Cake or Pie?  Oh man, cake. Cake all the way.

D - Drink of Choice? Soy no-water chai lattes, Berry Bubbly martinis and Poland Springs water. What can I say, I’m a water snob.

E - Essential Item(s)?  Eyeliner, high heels, email, XM radio, cell phone

F - Favorite Color?  I’ve always loved blue, but I’m really into green and yellow right now. Not necessarily together…

G - Gummi Bears or Worms?  Gummi Bears are my favorite candy ever. Ever, ever.

H - Hometown?Pleasant Valley, NY originally, now Southern Rhode Island

I -  Indulgence?  Shoes, soy chai lattes from Starbucks, new magazines, good chocolate.

J - January or February?  Eh, not a huge fan of either.

K - Kids?  Cannot wait!

L - Life is incomplete without… Love and friendship.

M - Marriage Date If things go my way I’m thinking late summer/early fall 2008. If things go Grandma’s way, next month in the backyard.

N - Number of Siblings One sister.

O - Oranges or Apples?  I like both. Apples are great at work, oranges are yummy when they’re cold from the fridge. Messy, though.

P - Phobias/Fears losing a loved one, heights, things that smell bad, people with B.O.

Q - Favorite Quote “I’ve still got my feet on the ground, I just wear better shoes.” ~ Oprah

R -  Reasons to Smile?  Just finished one year at my job, the weather is warm, the sun is shining.

S - Season? Summer. Especially in RI.

T - Tag Three Sass, Clink, Ash

U - Unknown Fact About Me I can hyper-extend my arms and spin them almost all the way around. It’s gross. Michael hates it.

V - Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals?  I didn’t eat red meat for years until I met Michael. Now I suppose I am an oppressor.

W - Worst habits? I leave clutter everywhere, don’t dust nearly enough

X - X-rays or Ultrasounds?  Never had an ultrasound. X-rays on my teeth and ankle.

Y - Your Favorite Foods pizza, cucumbers, grilled cheese, raspberries

Z - Zodiac Capricorn.

- Today is my one year anniversary at my job. I don’t know what I was expecting to feel, but not surprisingly it is much like any other day. I did get a free lunch out of it, though. Even though I don’t feel any different, I think the me of a year ago would be impressed with the me of today. Past me would never have guessed I’d be writing as much as I do, let alone be published, or that I would have become a blogger. Past me never knew all of you were out there. (Shout-out to my Internet Best Friends, I heart you.) Current me is pretty darn happy.

This is for the ladies, sorry guys.

- The first thing I want to do at the end of the day is rip off my bra. I know most of you will agree, because I know from a certain past post that I have a very busty readership! Bras? Suck. The problem is if you want a really comfy one, they’re ginormous. And ginromous is NOT SEXY. I’m all about comfort, but I’m still a young woman with a cute boyfriend and I will absolutely forgo 18-hour comfort if the bra looks like two paper plates.

Which is why you will be singing my praises after trying on this bra. I was shocked to discover this no-wire demi not only supports, but is still sexy. And it comes in so many pretty colors. Still don’t believe me? Michael very much approved. And boys can only judge on appearance. So trust me, the whole package is good.

Victoria, I’ll take five or six freebees for my promotional services. Thank you.

Ok, so it won’t make you look like Alessandra Abrosio, but see? It’s cute!

The warm weather has left me thinking about when I worked at the daycare. Believe it or not, it’s actually made me miss some things about it. Some things. Such as:

• playing outside all day. All. Day.
• back rubs from fellow staff. Actually, I could really use one today. Stacey, feel like driving to Connecticut?
• the ever-present smell of sunscreen.
• popsicles for snack almost daily.
• playing in the sand.

Of course, there are also things I really don’t miss. Like,

• playing outside all day. There’s only so much you can do on a playground for hours and hours.
• the ever-present smell of dirty diapers.
• popsicles for snack almost daily. Do you know how difficult it is to clean melted popsicles of the hands and mouths of 18 toddlers?
• playing in the sand. Sand in shoes, sand in diapers, sand in eyes, sand in mouths, sand stuck to popsicle residue…

I really do miss those back rubs, though.

Boy is it sunny! What a perfect way to start the weekend. I have just spent my entire day standing in the ridiculously hot sun with press people. While I so thoroughly enjoyed finally feeling the heat of the sun on my face, I was not prepared for it. Which means…I am sunburned. Ow.

The warm air left me yearning to put away the wool pants and break out my spring skirts. Which reminds me, check out my post on The Winning Pitch about the fabulous skirts I found. So cute!

After tying up some loose ends I am off to spend the weekend with boy I love and the girl with fantastic boobs (Boobeski comes tonight!) I can’t wait.

 Have a nice weekend!

If there was one thing I could change about myself (other than my thighs) it would be the way I handle stress. Anxiety is something that plagues me regularly. I’m not saying that I stress out about all the little things, but when big stuff comes around, it hits me like a ton of bricks.

The first time I was really affected by it was in college. I was in my history final and was cruising through it. I knew the material because I had been studying for days. I happened to look up from my exam and noticed the professor was flipping through our final papers that we had turned in earlier, when all of the sudden my heart was racing. I don’t know why, but all of the sudden I thought I had forgotten to include something in the paper. And although I had no reason to, I panicked. I was freaking out so badly that I could hardly breathe. I managed to flag down a TA and she walked me outside to get some air. After a few minutes and lots of deep breaths, I was able to calm down enough to finish my exam.

What I didn’t know then was that I had a panic attack. And unfortunately, it wasn’t the last one. The small ones would result in just a racing heart, but the big ones included shaking, shortness of breath and dizziness. After about ten of them, I knew I had to take control of it.

After talking with my mom and doing a lot of reading on the topic, I was able to figure out ways to control the symptoms when I felt them coming on. While I’ll never know why they started, I was able to get a grasp on them.

After a few months the panic attacks became farther and farther apart until eventually they stopped all together. Every now and then I’ll get the familiar heart racing, but a few minutes of deep breathing, Michael rubbing my back, or even a good run in the gym can calm me down.

This whole fiasco with His Mother has resulted in a tightness in my stomach that won’t go away. She wants to talk with me on the phone (probably tonight) about what I’m feeling. She feels I have the wrong impression of her and wants to straighten things out. I’m taking the time today to compose my thoughts (maybe even jot down key points, I’m such a nerd) and try to settle the butterflies and knots that are a jumble in my stomach.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

A funny thing has happened over the past week. I can wake up before 6 a.m. This is huge for me. Sure, I wouldn’t call it fun, but it’s no longer a struggle. I’m really proud of Ashley and myself for getting through our first week. I really went every day except Monday, when the combination of nasty weather and exhaustion from the weekend made it impossible to get out from under the covers. But other than Monday, I did it!

Day two was definitely the hardest, but after that it was all up hill. I have more energy during the day, I’ve cut a minute off my mile time and although I can’t notice a difference yet, I feel stronger, healthier.

And because now that I am Workout Woman I have gotten cocky and started bugging Michael to get up in the morning too. He gently reminded me that it’s only been a week and maybe I should keep my mouth shut until it’s been, I don’t know, a month. Yeah, yeah.

On an unrelated note, while driving to the gym this morning a bird flew into my car. It happened so quickly I couldn’t avoid it and was sickened by the sound of the thump. And then…I heard tweeting. I freaked out because, OH MY GOD, THE BIRD IS STUCK IN MY CAR! and pulled over to inspect. No bird. No tweeting. Ok…I kept driving and heard the tweeting again! At this point I’m almost in tears. I checked again at the gym and again found nothing, but heard lots of tweeting coming from the trees. The birds, they knew. They knew I was a bird killer and they were out to get me. I’m surprised I didn’t come back to a poop covered car.

When I got home there was a whole flock of them sitting in the tree outside our bedroom window plotting my demise. I just know it.

Anyway, progress:

Weight Lost: I don’t actually know the answer to this one. My original plan was to weigh myself once a week, but after talking with Ashley I decided to go with her plan to wait until a month has passed. Then we’ll have put in enough time to really see results. I know the anticipation is going to kill me, but at least I won’t be obsessing and getting on the scale every day.

Observations: Muscles are sore, especially my arms and upper back. But sore is good! Sore is progress! Am strong! I had a massage on Friday (because what a perfect way to reward myself for a week of hard work) and the massage therapist said that my upper butt muscles were tight. Michael got a kick out of that one.

Although I originally planned on doing my workout update, it seems silly to be posting about exercising not even 24 hours after the awful tragedy at Virginia Tech. As a country I think we’ve become almost immune to the images we see on the television. With war, death and destruction flashed before our eyes every day we almost need to be in order to cope.

But the news of yesterday’s shooting hit me like a ton of bricks, making me thankful that I was alone in my office. Because I cried. There’s only been two other times I can remember actually crying from the news: 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina. 9/11 happened just nine days into my freshman year at college and as we grieved as a nation, we also grieved on a much smaller level. We grieved as a college community, still children away from home for the first time. We felt safe in those dorms on the grounds of our campus.

The students of Virginia Tech may never feel safe again. I cannot begin to imagine the fear they felt yesterday and the pain and sorrow they are feeling today. My heart goes out to each and every one of them and the families of the victims.

Remember dinner at His Mother’s on Tuesday? The dinner where it was revealed that Michael and I live together? I had been anticipating the fury of his mother ever since that night. And when it didn’t come I figured that although she wasn’t happy, she was going to deal with it and not say anything.

I was right. She didn’t say anything. His grandmother, however, did.

Saturday afternoon I was sitting on the couch, my hair still damp from my post-gym shower, watching the finale of I Love New York. I was almost at the end and was excited to see it since I missed it when it originally aired.

I happened to look out the window and noticed that Grandma’s car was in the driveway. Michael and a friend were working on the shed in the yard so I figured she had stopped by to see him and was now chatting. I was wrong. This woman was on a mission: ME.

The first words out of her mouth after exchanging the usual pleasantries were “did you set a date?”

“For what, Grandma?” I said.

“For your wedding,” she replied, astonished that I seemed so aloof. As I explained to her that we were not yet engaged she said, “well maybe you shouldn’t have moved in.” And there it was. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?

The rest of the conversation resulted in these gems:

• I should really consider a small wedding. Perhaps 20 people in the backyard. When told that my dream wedding was more elegant/fun/150 people and not a down home bar-b-q, I was told that in that case, it should really be local so people don’t have to drive far.
• And also, could we please get married before she goes back to Florida?
• And have we discussed how long we’ll wait before having kids? Because she’d really like to have great-grandchildren before she dies.
• And I shouldn’t worry about the dog hair right now (it’s spring, he’s blowing his coat and no matter how much I vacuum right now it’s just impossible to keep up on) because once I get married I will learn how to be domestic.
• And apparently, it’s not that his mother doesn’t like me, it’s just that she thought she raised Michael better and taught him to follow the teachings of God. After dinner on Tuesday “she just cried and cried and prayed for your souls.” She just wants to save your soul, that’s all. She loves you.

The hour long conversation left me in tears from frustration and in the same whirlwind fashion she arrived, she was gone. Leaving me sitting on the couch, bewildered and feeling like I just got hit by a truck. Michael, who had walked in on the tale end of the tears was pissed. How dare she show up to ambush me and play the middle man. And all of the above? NONE OF HER BUSINESS.

I sat on the couch nursing a glass of wine (with now frizzy hair) when my phone rang. It was Jen, who in the nick of time had called to ask me to go to dinner. I seriously needed it. Later that evening I picked at my food, hunger having been replaced by an anxious feeling in my stomach that has remained there until today. Because oh yeah, His Mother left a message on his phone for him to call her. AND for me to call her. Because apparently she wants to chat now.

If you don’t hear from me for awhile it’s because we’ve packed up the house, changed our numbers and relocated to a remote island where the daiquiris are always flowing and the mother and grandmother are just a distant memory. I’ll send postcards.

I have quite the story to share with you today (no, I’m not engaged!) but first a little self-promotion. Because what kind of publicist would I be if I didn’t toot my own horn a little bit?

Starting today you can also find me at The Winning Pitch, a blog for stylish women everywhere. I’ll be writing on everything from fashion and health and beauty, to travel and culture.

I’m still in shock that someone is going to pay me to write about things like shoes (because of course my first post is about shoes!), but I’m really excited. Come by and check it out!

Want to know my weekend plans?

Both DSW and Payless are having major sales. I know you’re not snubbing Payless (yes, you, I’m talking to you), because they are the spot to get those silver flats you’ve always wanted but don’t want to spend a fortune on because while metallics are the new black, there’s no guarantee they will stay that way.

 I will be buying these because, hello, cute shoes for twenty dollars.

And no Michael, I don’t care if I’m out of room. It’s a tough addiction to break, and truth be told, I don’t really want to break it anyway.

Have a nice weekend!

- To the person that continually comes to my blog by typing “my sister’s big boobs” into Google, please stop. The only reason you keep finding me is because I’ve written about boobs and my sister in separate posts and Google just links it together. Your almost weekly search actually disturbs me and my site is definitely not what you’re looking for. If you really insist on visiting, bookmark me already! 

- Why do men feel the need to wear short shorts to the gym? OK yes, you’re in shape and are obviously a runner. But the shorts? Really? Yesterday they were not only short, but they were spandex. Come on, man, it’s 6 a.m.! It’s way too early to see your business shrink wrapped and on display. Actually, there’s really no good time to see that.

- DSW is having a 30 percent off sale. Be still my heart.

PS- Do you like the new shoe addition to the sidebar? It’s dedicated to Alissa, since the idea came from her request for visual aids to go with the descriptions.

Last night we went to Michael’s mother’s house for dinner. It was his grandmother’s birthday, and since I hadn’t seen her since she got back from Florida, I was actually looking forward to it.

On the way there Michael mentioned that if my living situation came up, he’d handle it. Some background: they didn’t know we live together. Even though it’s something I wanted to tell them as soon as I moved in a year ago, he didn’t want to deal with the backlash from his very religious mother. While I didn’t agree with the decision, I figured I’d keep quiet for the time being. If his mother showed enough interest to ask about where I was living, I would tell her the truth.

She never asked.

Dinner was going smoothly and Grandma and I were joking and laughing and discussing Michael and I getting engaged, when she sprung it on me. “Are you still living in that apartment?”

I kicked Michael under the table. This was it…and it was his task to break the news. But he was talking to his mother and couldn’t respond right away. So I did what any adult would do….pretended I didn’t hear her. So she asked again. And I kicked Michael. Again. Harder.

This time he answered. “She lives with me now.”

My heart was racing and I swear I wasn’t breathing. I braced myself for impact when… “That’s wonderful!” cried Grandma.

Excuse me? That’s not what I was expecting.

As Grandma went on to say what a great idea, both financially and relationship-wise our moving in together was, I looked over at his mother. Who was stone-faced. I watched as she got up and started slamming dishes, stomping around the kitchen, and eventually yelling at the girls to “Get ready for bed! NOW!!”

Ooooh shit.

The thing is, the explosion I was expecting never happened. Well, not exactly. She didn’t yell at Michael or tell him she was disappointed. Instead she started talking about how we might not see a time when Michael and I have children because the END IS NEAR. And how does she know this? Because “I read the Bible, mother!”

Hmm. I think she’s upset.

It was shortly after that we made our exit. Part of me is relieved that it’s out in the open. I don’t have to worry about her popping by unexpectedly (and uninvited) on a Saturday morning while I’m still in my pajamas, causing me to run upstairs and frantically throw on clothes. Yes, that’s happened.

The other part of me thinks this is just the tip of the iceberg. Stay tuned…

This morning I woke up at 5:50. In the a.m. Just clarifying.

I stumbled around in the dark, threw on my gym clothes and headed out. It was dark out and the moon was still visible. Let it be known that I am not a morning person. As a former college student and now a working woman who yells at the 7 a.m. alarm, this was not an hour I was too familiar with.

But I had to go. Because I knew my friend Ashley was waiting for me. We made a pact to go the gym in the morning and I couldn’t stand her up. As I pulled into the crowded (!) parking lot, my first thought was, “What is wrong with these people?” I guess I was one of those people today.

I had beat Ashley, so I hopped on the elliptical that faces the window and started my workout. I have to say that there was something quite refreshing about working up a sweat while watching the sun rise.

An hour later I left the gym feeling energized, slightly sore,(Note to self: the fat burning routine on the treadmill equals MAJOR hills. Hello, Jello legs.) and with the promise to meet Ashley there again tomorrow morning. At 6 o’clock. In the a.m.

I am determined that this will be the start of a new me. The healthier, skinnier me. And because I think posting it here will keep me motivated, (and also, because apparently I am insane) I will document my progress once a week. And now, the most honest I’ve ever been with the internet:

Starting weight: I don’t know if I’m brave enough to post an actual number, but it’s 10 pounds more than I weighed at college graduation, just two years ago.

Goal: Lose the 10 pounds in no more than five months. A few extra gone would not be a bad thing. Also, tone arms.

Short term goal: Have arms look better by Memorial Day Weekend wedding I am attending.

Observations: While a tomato-red face does represent a strong workout, it is much harder to apply makeup while getting ready for work.

My weekend could not have started off any better. My sister arrived Thursday and that night we got the best possible news….she got into college! She’s had a very tough year and we weren’t sure she was going to get in. This is HUGE!

Friday was Take Your Sister to Work Day and it was nice to have her around. And when I walked in the door after work, a small package with my name on it sat on the counter. A special delivery from the Easter Beagle! My new resolution to Put! Down! The! Crap! was postponed one more day, because who can resist homemade cookies?

Saturday we went shopping, (which resulted in lots of fun spring clothes that I cannot wear because it’s 40 degrees. Mother Nature? Get a clue.) went out to dinner and hung out with Jen. I was on such an emotional high and didn’t want the weekend to end. I love having my sister around…she makes me laugh like no one else.

Easter Sunday was uneventful. Michael was working so we weren’t planning on going to The Mother’s for dinner. While the promise of a delicious dinner was tempting, the thought of going without him was not appealing. At all. My father was visiting friends in Boston and came down to RI to  have lunch with us. When he left with my sister in tow later that afternoon, the house felt very empty. I never remember how much I miss her until she leaves me. So sad.

I had a couple hours to kill before Michael got home so I turned on some old Top Model and sat down with the laptop. Which of course resulted in browsing the Knot. Which in turn left me feeling really shitty.

My problem is I set deadlines in my head…like maybe it will happen by our anniversary, or maybe it will happen by Easter…and when the deadlines pass, I feel awful. This is my deal, not his. Michael doesn’t know I have these dates in my head. And when they pass and I get emotional about it, he has to deal with me. I know it’s not fair to him…but I can’t help feeling sad/angry/impatient. And these emotions usually result in my crying. Not a full out bawling, snotty cry. More like one of those single tear running down my cheek, red-faced because I’m trying to hold the rest in, cries.

And each time this happens he tells me it is coming and it will be a surprise and I truly want to believe him, so I get a tissue and suck it up.* I’ve done pretty well with not thinking about it too, too much, so this only happens about once a week.

When it does happen, remind me of how stupid this all was.

* I love your advice, but today I’m just looking for understanding. If you don’t have something nice to say, please don’t say it today. Thanks.

For lack of something creative to say today, I give you a new picture of Kodiak looking all regal in the yard.

Have a great weekend!

Yesterday I had to call 411 regarding an incorrect listing for work. Of course it had an automated system, so I found myself shouting into the phone trying to get the computer-woman to understand me.

“City and State?”

“X, Connecticut.”

“Is this a business, government or other?”

“Business.”

“I’m sorry, there are no listings under this category. Goodbye.”

Um…what? No business listings? Maybe I wasn’t clear…I’ll try again.

This time I got into the Business section.

“Name of listing?”

“Molly’s Pizza” (it’s too early to be creative, forgive me.)

“You mean Molly’s Ice Cream Shack, right?”

“No…” Was the computer-woman being condescending? You mean this, right? Like, ooops! I really wanted ice cream but said pizza by accident and thank goodness you knew what I really wanted!

“OK. Please say the actual name of the business you are looking for.” You have GOT to  be kidding me. Why wouldn’t I say the actual  name of the business I was looking for? It must be because I have nothing better to do with my time that tease the 411 automated operator. Apparently, computer-woman is a bitch.

“Molly’s. Pizza.” I say between clenched teeth.

“You mean, the Coast Guard Academy, right?”

I almost threw the phone at the wall.

“NO!” No, no, no, no no.

“Goodbye!”

Arrrrgggghhhh!!!!!!!

When she was born I made a big sign that said WELCOME HOME and wore a button of her picture on my dress to first grade every day for a week.

When she was three (or four?) I put her on a bicycle and pushed her down a hill. I thought that would help her learn how to ride.

When she was five I stuck her in a soccer goal, told her to get ready and kicked the ball. She caught it….with her face.

When she was six I told her we found her in a field. I also told her the Big Bad Wolf lived in our closet.

When she was nine she cried when she hugged me and told me she didn’t want me to go to Australia.

When she was 12 we hugged each other and cried when I left for college, and again when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.

When she was 15 I cried when I heard her sing “At Last”. Heart stoppingly beautiful.

She was 16 when she dyed her hair pink, then green, then blue.

She’s 17 now. And she’s coming to visit me tomorrow.

Yay!

Tomorrow is Michael and my five year anniversary. It’s difficult for me to put into words exactly what this means to me. To describe the magnitude of meaning behind each one of those years would be impossible. But I can tell you how it all began…

 We met when I was 19 and he was almost 22. I was a freshman in college and was not looking for anything serious. I had been in a lengthy relationship in high school and was enjoying being single. But then I met a guy, we’ll call him Ryan. Ryan and I started seeing each other very casually. We’d hang out sometimes, but we never actually had a real date. Over the course of two months I grew tired of the games he was playing and confronted him about it. Turns out he had a girlfriend. That’s when I ended it.

While we were seeing each other, he’d often bring some of his friends around to my dorm. One of them was Michael. I’m ashamed to admit this now, but I actually tried to hook him up with one of my friends. Luckily, that didn’t work out!

Our first real interaction began at a very lame concert we were both working at. We spent the day talking, he brought me lunch…and over the course of the day I noticed I was always looking around to see where he was. That’s when I knew I wanted to know this guy.

The beginning of our relationship was new for both of us. The feelings for each other were intense and fast, and took both of us off guard. Michael, who had always been cautious with his heart, said he was torn between the feelings he had for me and the loyalty to his friend. It didn’t take much to convince him that what we shared had the potential to be something amazing and we shouldn’t throw it away because of a disloyal friend.

He listened to me, and I’m so glad he did.

Through the stages of our relationship we’ve dealt with some big stuff – cancer, depression, and the death of a parent– and through it all, we stood by each other. I know that the support we gave each other is what got us through some really hard times. I can also say that so many of my happiest memories include him. Birthdays, holidays, graduations, first jobs….he’s held my hand through all of it.

We say “I love you” every day. Usually multiple times. It never feels like we’re saying it just to say it. We say it because we mean it. I can honestly say that I love him more than I did five years ago and with each passing day, I love him even more.

Tonight I will go curl up on the couch with him and think how lucky I am. And tomorrow we will celebrate five years together. I can’t wait until the day we celebrate 50.

On Friday night Jen and I went to see her coworker play guitar in Providence. Neither of us had ever been to the venue, but we heard it was a super casual, hole-in-the-wall type place. My outfit was pretty basic, jeans and a black top, but I wore my cute pink, high heeled mary janes to throw in a little umph.

After going out to dinner, we headed up to Providence with directions in hand. As soon as we made it into the city…we got lost. We maneuvered down some tree lined streets, then some non-tree lined streets, and finally, we found ourselves behind some sort of food distribution center in the middle of nowhere. The scared little suburbanites in us decided that if we couldn’t find the venue in the next ten minutes, we were going to the mall instead.

The only real landmark we had was a Dunkin Donuts, so we drove around the block and stopped at the first one we saw. By this time my bladder was bursting with the yummy daiquiri I had earlier, and I figured I’d use this opportunity to go.

 Jen went to the counter for directions as I headed to the bathroom. Which was locked. Because apparently in Providence you need a key to get into the bathroom. The key that I so needed was currently in the men’s room with a questionable looking man. They key was also attached to a long chain that held the key on one end and a plastic funnel on the other. Don’t ask me to explain it. I still don’t understand the logic.

When this questionable man came out of the bathroom and threw the key/funnel contraption back on the counter, I almost said forget it. But I really had to pee. So I gingerly picked up the key by the chain and headed into the bathroom. When I was done I tried the best I could to use multiple paper towels to open the door and carry the key back. It was quite interesting.

As it turned out, we were basically right where we needed to be. Because the venue? Was actually in the parking lot of the food distribution center. As we drove by it for the second time I said out loud, “that can’t be it. Look at all those hoodlums hanging out there.” By hoodlums I meant high school kids. But no, it was, in fact, where we needed to be.

As we walked to the door we realized that these kids in front of us seemed pretty young. So young, in fact, that I noticed not all of them were carrying licenses. Nope. They were carrying school IDs. High school IDs. Fabulous.

Once inside we beelined for the bar. Which technically was a bar because it had a Formica counter and some weird, low chairs that I swear were from 1978. But the “bar” had no refrigerators. It had coolers….multiple coolers stacked on top of each other. You know, the kind you fill will beer cans and take to a picnic.

Speaking of beer cans, that’s what I got when I orderd my beer. A can. But that bartender had skills, let me tell you. He opened two beers at the same time. One in each hand. Two. At the same time. Just popped those tabs right open. Skills.

And you should have seen his face when we tipped him a dollar each. He was thrilled! I guess those high schoolers don’t tip much when they get a soda.

Jen’s coworker wasn’t going on for another half hour so we stood around a chit chatted with some other people from her work who were at least 10 years older than us. At least we weren’t the oldest of the creepy old people in the all ages bar.

Oh, and I totally dressed wrong for the evening. The overall look was a mish-mash of Emo/Punk/I’m-wearing-a-suit-jacket-covered-in-rhinestones-because-I-am-hip-and-go-against-conformity. My pink mary janes and black clutch? So totally preppy, man. I mean, who does she think she is?

The show itself ended up being really good, despite the 15 year-old girl bouncing in front of us and whoo-hooing every chance she got. We left immediately after his set was done, though, because we just felt out of place.

If only I had worn a hoodie and leggings. What was I thinking?