Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

***

Um, CB and I had this very same conversation the other day when it was sprinkling and gloomy and he wanted me to take his giant umbrella with me to work. And then I poked his heart.

***

This week's book is "Hunting Shadows" by Charles Todd and sounds like a good CB read to me! Click here to read the review and then browse around for other good finds!

***

And now, the Video of the Week. The simple reason behind this is because, every time it comes on my Pandora 80s mix, I immediately stop what I'm doing and make sure that I've thumbs upped it. Every. Time.

Also, this video is worth watching IF ONLY for right around 2:05 when a very clearly not George Harrison does a back flip and then starts jazzy dancing. God I love the 80s.

Happy Friday!

Finally, some Bali blogging.

So people have been asking for a honeymoon blog for weeks, but I’ve been putting it off due to general laziness and/or lack of time. Though lack of time is really just an excuse because I had time to watch six hours of the Scandal marathon while cleaning out our closets, and so really I just prioritized organizing our wrapping paper over you guys. I’m sorry, I’m a monster.

But because it’s been a while since I’ve made a blog containing lists, I decided to list my top five moments from our trip, which I’ll complete with pictures because I’m a blogger of her people (and you guys are super demanding about Bali pictures and need to relax.) Also, since I like to maximize my time between blogging and watching reruns, I’m stretching this out over the next two weeks. So let’s get right to it with number 5:  

Throwing up in the Indian Ocean. It goes without saying that snorkeling is the pastime of the devil. And probably ISIS. Which is why I knew that it was going to be a minor-major disaster to do this as a newlywed, but did it anyway because I was being told that this is what love is. Clearly by people who have never experienced true and lasting love.

However, I’ll go ahead and say (through clenched teeth) that I’m glad I did it. But more because I made friends with the fish, and less because it was an enjoyable experience. Also, fish love me, you guys. I think they smelled my fear and considered it a personal victory that I entered their home without dying on impact.

The look of a natural. 

Anyway, after traveling two hours on crazy Bali roads, we made our way to the ocean, suited up, and headed into the water without having to get onto a boat. Which I thought would really help me out since boats make me think of Orca - the boat from Jaws - which makes me think of Jaws, which makes me think of death. However, what I didn't anticipate was that my body would, true to form over the last 36 years, continue defying the laws of nature and normalness. And so after about 8-12 minutes bobbing up and down in Nemo’s hometown and constantly lifting my head out of said water to make sure I was still super-close to the guide, I started to feel a little funky.  

Pre-funk. That smile is forced, you guys!

Fast forward three minutes later when I was like “CB, I need to go to the shore. I think I’m going to be sick.”

And then fast forward fifty four more seconds, guide by my side:

Me: “I don’t feel so well….”
Guide: “You want to puke? Puke! It feeds the fish!”

And with that vivid and horrifying visual, I fed those Nemo fish like they’d never been fed before. And man, they loved me.

Also, note to self: if fish make you feel icky and you don’t like the water, don’t attract them to you by letting your insides out. It’s terrifying, disgusting, and ultimately not a great way to wow your new husband.

Happy Wednesday, everyone! 

Conversations from Cohabitation

While watching the "Scandal" Season Three marathon on tv during massive apartment fall cleaning yesterday…

CB: “This is turning into a soap opera.”
Me: “Um, news flash: it is a soap opera.”
CB: “No, I mean it’s all too involved now.”
Me: “Yes, like a soap opera. It’s a dramatic, nighttime soap opera and it’s awesome.”
CB: “But there’s all of this….sexual stuff happening. Too much kissy time. It’s supposed to be dramatic and suspenseful.”
Me, laughing: “I can’t take you seriously when you say ‘kissy time.’ And don’t pretend you’re not hooked. You got mad at me last season when I’d watch it on DVR without you.”
CB, laughing: “I know, but it’s just that they’re all….adulterers.”
Me: “You’re one hundred years old.”
CB: “But they are! Look – just in that room alone, she’s sleeping with that married guy, that wife is sleeping with that guy from that other show, that guy’s husband slept with that other woman’s husband. All scandalous!”
Me: “Hence, the name.”
CB: “I’m just saying that it’s getting out of hand.”
Me: “Also, you’ve seen all of these episodes before, why is this now just shocking you?”
CB: “I don’t know, all in a row like this, it feels wrong.”
Me: “It is wrong. Which is why the show is so right.”

Pause.

CB: “Do you have the season premiere set on the DVR? It’s on at a new time.”
Me: “Well we got over the adultery pretty quickly, now, didn’t we….”

***

So, it’s important to note that I really like it cold when I sleep, which sometimes means the air conditioning is on at night when it’s not that warm outside. And CB sleeps closest to the vent.

I'm kind of a monster sometimes, I know. 

CB, fighting with his blanket and mumbling.

Me: “You alright over there?”

CB: “I pulled the blanket up and then it exposed my feet, but they’re cold because of the air conditioning and so I had to balance it out.”

Me: “Why don’t you put on socks?”

CB: “It’s not healthy to sleep with socks on.”

Me, staring at him.

CB: “It’s not! Look it up!”

Me: “I don’t have to look that up because it’s ridiculous. This is one of those things you’ve created in your mind as a thing that’s not actually a thing.”

CB, laughing: “It’s not one of those. It’s real. The socks are too tight and cut off the circulation.”

Me: “How tight are your socks?! You need different socks if they’re cutting off the circulation.”

CB, still laughing and googling this nonsense: “I think this is one of those things that your parents would agree with me on.”

Me: “This is most certainly not one of those things. They would tell you to get different socks.”

CB, texting his dad.

Me: “You’re not texting your dad about this. He’s the one you get this from! He’ll obviously agree with you because this is a Leo-ism for sure.”

CB, laughing: “No, he texted me and I’m responding about something else.”

Me: “Ok good. Because if we asked my parents, your mom and sister, and anyone else, they’d agree with me. It just isn’t logical. Think about it: if your socks are too tight at night, they’d be too tight during the day. I mean, are they magically getting tighter the moment you lay down?”

CB: “Well my work socks for sure would be too tight because they’re even too tight during the day.”

Me: “Again, you need different socks. Also, I appreciate you not wearing your black work socks to bed like a great grandfather.”

CB, ignoring me while googling.

Me: “This is sort of like my underpants issue. My underpants are too big and I apparently need smaller ones and your socks are too small and you apparently need larger ones. We have the same problem on different parts of our body!”

CB, putting his phone down.

Me: “So what did it say?”

CB: “Eh, I couldn’t really find anything conclusive.”

Me: “That’s not true. You found that every sight you checked agreed with me.”

CB, laughing: “Yeah, it said that your socks were too tight if they were cutting off circulation."

Me: “I’m a genius.”

CB: “Or we could just turn the air conditioning off.”

Me: “I’ll just buy you bigger socks.”

Happy Monday, everyone! 

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!! But first! Do we need to take a poll on whether CB is still CB? My dad has made a push for CH. Others wanted me to call him CF when we were engaged, but my laziness, in typical fashion, prevailed. However, I'm a woman of her people. So what do we think?

***

BOOKS. Uh, my family has been on FIRE in my absence, reading and blogging about all things books.

Check out this week's book, "The Thirteenth Tale" by Diane Setterfield, which has been reviewed by TWO bloggers and both highly recommended we go and pick this one up asap. So click here to check out the reivew(s) and browse around for more inspiration!

***

Tiny pig dancing in the grass. 'Nuf said.

***

And now, the Video of the Week. CB listened to the new album at my urging while on the 22 hour flight to Bali and, once I woke up several hours later, was like "I don't see the big deal." And then I tried breaking up with him on an international flight where he was the only person I knew, and so I decided that our vows could likely weather the storm that is not agreeing on Coldplay. But just barely.

So I'll spread the love on my blog because that's what having a blog is good for. And also because sometimes I want CB to talk in a British accent and let me call him Chris Martin and he just rolls his eyes and goes and opens all of the cabinets in our apartment. It's his version of therapy.

Happy Friday, everyone!

Hashtag Clueless.

Everyone has those moments in life when a shift is felt so profoundly beneath their feet that it becomes clear in an instant that life as you know it will never quite be the same. For some, it could be getting married or the birth of their first child. For others, it might be moving to a new city or starting down an exciting, yet scary, career path. But for me, it was not knowing how Instagram works.

Like I said, everyone’s moments are different.

I started to realize that I’d gone ‘round the bend of hipness, coolness, or whatever new word kids these days have invented for being “in the know,” when my 13 year old cousin asked me last week what my Instagram name was.

Me: “Um…maybe Becky?”
Cousin: “It’s probably not just your name. You know, it’s the way people would find you on Instagram.”
Me: “I gotta’ be honest. I’m pretty sure I have an Instagram account, but I have no idea what my login or password is.”
Cousin: “Wait, but you post on Instagram?”
Me: “I’m not sure? Maybe? How would I know if I do or not?”
Cousin, liking me less and less as this conversation continued: “Well……I’m pretty sure you’d know.”
Me: “I sometimes use Instagram to take pictures…do those automatically get posted? And how would people see them, do I have to follow anyone to make that happen?”
Cousin, totally lying and walking out of the room: “Nevermind, I’ll just find you later….”

And then I felt like your 87 year old grandmother who needs you to explain how email works.

However, I let that go because of course I wouldn’t know what’s what among the 13 year olds and, quite frankly, sort of took pride in that. I’m a grown woman with a job and bills and no time to keep up on the latest social media craze.

Cut to: last night I was out to dinner with some friends and they started talking about some dog with no teeth they were following on Instagram.

Me: “Wait, this is a thing?”
Lisa: “Um, his name is ‘Toast Meets World’ and it’s basically the best thing in life.”
Me: “So it’s just a bunch of dog pictures or something?”
Jen: “How have you not heard of this?”
Me: “Wait, is this, like, something people do?
Lisa: “Don’t you follow stuff on Instagram?”
Me: “I don’t think so….wait, do I? I don’t know. I have an Instagram account but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it. And this is the second time in a week this conversation has happened.”

Blank stares.

Jen: “Do you follow people?”
Lisa, grabbing my phone: “Oh my god, you’re following 20 people and one of them is Tori Spelling.”
Me: “Yeah, that sounds right. Is 20 people a lot?”
Lisa, Jen, and Dana in unison: “No!”
Lisa, handing back my phone: “There. Now you’re following everyone at this table, plus Toast Meets World.”
Me: “I have no idea what to do with that information.”
Dana, taking my phone: “Becky, you have 76 requests for people who want to follow you.”
Me: “I do? That sounds like a lot!”
Dana: “It is…especially since you don’t know how to use Instagram.”
Me: “Yeah, I feel like they’ll be disappointed if I accept their request because it might just be an accidental shot of my shoulder that I took unknowingly when taking my phone out of my pocket or something.”
Dana: “Becky…..”
Me: “I’m exhausted. I can’t keep up with all of this stuff. It’s basically Facebook with just pictures, right?”
Caitlin: “Yes, grandma, it’s Facebook with just pictures.”
Me: “And a bunch of hashtags?”
Lisa: “Yes. Hashtag, you’re ridiculous and old.”
Me: “Hashtag true.”

Am I alone here? Is this something we’ve all been doing? #helpagirlout.

Happy Wednesday! 

Conversations from Cohabitation

Sorry, guys, I was on a business trip last week! I PROMISE I'm back now! No, really!

So, the other day I was blow drying my hair and, unbeknownst to CB, could see him in the kitchen, about to make a sandwich. He pulls out a small jar of peanut butter, opens it, looks inside, then closes it and puts it back. He then takes out the larger, unopened jar of peanut butter and goes to make himself a sandwich.

Me, from the bathroom: “Wait, what did you just do?”
CB, freezing in place: “Woman, can’t I make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in peace?”
Me: “Apparently not since I just saw you take out one jar, put it back because, I’m assuming, there wasn’t enough in there, and take out an unopened jar?”
CB, turning towards me: “There’s not enough in the small jar to make a sandwich.”
Me: “Seriously?”
CB, laughing: “Yeah!”
Me, laughing and shaking my head: “Um, just use what’s left in the small jar, throw it out, and then use however much more you need from the bigger, unopened jar.”
CB: “The big one is opened.”
Me: “Wait, why is the big one opened too?”
CB: “Because I did the same thing yesterday.”
Me: “I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation. You are an adult!”
CB: “Yeah, an adult who should get to make his sandwiches in peace!”

***

Um, apparently I blow dry my hair a lot. Because this next little interaction happened while I was in the bathroom blow drying my hair, too. Also, something important for this - our bathroom has two doors: one that opens into our bedroom, one that opens into our living room.

So, as I was blow drying my hair, I wanted to keep the air conditioning from going into the living room so it would keep our bedroom and bathroom cool while I was in there. As I was going to close the bathroom/living room door, CB came into the bathroom to get a Q-tip from the medicine cabinet.

Me: “Oh, sorry, I was about to close the door. Could you close it on your way out so I can keep the air in?”
CB, going to pull the bathroom/bedroom door closed: “Sure, no problem.”
Me: “No, not that one, the other one.”

So as he closes the other one, I say: “And can you close the bedroom door too, please?”

He does.

As I start blow drying again in the bathroom, I notice that the medicine cabinet is left open. Which isn’t new, but I figured CB did this on purpose to mess with me since I was bugging him about doors.

Me, laughing: “Did you do this on purpose?”
CB: “What?”
Me: “Leave the cabinet door open.”
CB: “No….but I got distracted by all of the other doors I had to close, so I forgot.”
Me, laughing and going back to blow drying with the door closed: "Oh ok."

Cut to: 10 minutes later, as I was finishing up, I thought to myself “ you know, I should go out there and give him a kiss.” And so, I opened the bathroom door to find every single cabinet in the kitchen opened and CB on the couch reading his book.

Me: “I hate you.”
CB, laughing hysterically: “I know.”
Me: “I was coming out here to give you a kiss because I felt bad that we’d been rushing around and I just got home from Seattle and we haven’t had a moment together! But that moment has passed!"
CB, still laughing: “Oh man, the look on your face was worth it.”
Me: “Worst. But no big deal, it doesn’t bother me at all. We can leave them open all day...”
CB: “Yeah, let’s see how long you last.”
Me: “Nope, doesn’t bother me at all…..”

So, I go into the bedroom to get changed and, a few minutes later, come out to find that he has closed all of the cabinets.

Me: “Aw, thanks for closing the cabinets. That was going to be hard to resist.”
CB, laughing: “I know.”
Me, looking at him for a minute: “Wait, why are you laughing? Is it my outfit? Does this look ok?”
CB, laughing harder: “I swear you look good. It’s not that.”
Me: “Then what is it?”
CB, shaking his head: “Nothing…”

So I walk into the bathroom to find the cabinet door re-opened.

Me, from the bathroom: “I hate you!”
CB, laughing: “It never gets old!
Me: “And neither will our marriage if you keep this up!”

Happy Monday, everyone! 

A Remembrance Re-post

While on the other side of the country for a business trip, I thought I'd take a moment to remember my homies back east and re-post this 9/11 blog from a few years ago.

***

In light of the fact that today is the anniversary of 9/11, this blog post will be slightly different than the norm. We’ll get right back to the randomness and (hopefully) laughs later in the week, but each year at this time I take a moment to step back, remember, and reflect.

Many of you know that I moved out to New York back when I was 23 years old and fresh off of the farms of Michigan State University (literally and figuratively). One of my best friends and I ventured out on our own for the very first time in our lives, leaving all of our friends and family and comforts behind, driving the U-Haul some 700 miles with our goldfish tucked safely in his bowl in the front seat. It was the end of August 2001 and we could not have been more excited or nervous for what life had in store for us.

We didn’t have too much: no phone, no cable, and a one bedroom apartment so narrow you couldn’t pull out the sleeper couch without moving the tv into the kitchen. We. Had. Arrived.

So on the morning of September 11^th, I was just excited to be in the shadows of the city. I was excited to be going into my second week of work, walking what was quickly becoming my “usual route” to the PATH train, thinking about how I couldn’t believe I was really here. But as I got closer and closer to the train station, something felt different.

Garbled announcements were blaring over the loud speakers and people looked quite literally dazed and confused as they filed onto an already over-crowded train and into an air conditioned car, out of the muggy September heat. Some guy on the train kept talking about how one of the towers of the World Trade Center had been hit by a plane, maybe flown by terrorists. It was about 9am and we really couldn’t be bothered with "the crazy guy on the train," so everyone kind of shuffled away from him, rolled their eyes, and held their papers a little higher to avoid eye contact. I obviously wanted to be just like the other New Yorkers, so I turned away from him and tried to settle the unease that was growing in my stomach.

And then I stepped onto 6^th avenue.

That view I’d so quickly grown to love was covered in black smoke. There weren’t any cars in the streets, there were sirens in the distance, and there was an eerie calm of a seemingly abandoned city. I continued to walk, faster now, as I made my way south down the avenue, staring up at the blackness that took over the sky.

I will never forget the next moments of that day: the vision of the South Tower falling, the sound of my mom’s voice when we finally got through to each other, the feeling of complete and utter hopelessness as we were told we couldn’t get off of the island, and the absolute surrender to whatever was to come next.

But that's not all that stays with me now when I look down at the newly rising tower on the south tip of Manhattan. That’s not what stays with me when someone starts talking about that day or reminisces about their own personal 9/11 experience.

What stays with me is this: on that day, in that moment, for a fleeting time in our history, this city was united and people came together. It’s actually something I’ve tried really hard to hold onto.

When I first got to this city, it was shiny and new and filled with possibilities. It was also grungy and cold and filled with strangers. It was the place I’d dreamed about and nothing like I’d thought it would be. It was the city I figured I’d play in for a few years and then leave to get on with my "real" life. But it’s the city that ended up cradling me during the craziest and most exciting decade of my life so far.

I’m not interested in debating the politics of what lead to or came after that day. I’m not interested in the conspiracy theories and the what if’s that will forever surround that moment and this country. What I’m interested in is holding onto that feeling of being united and remembering that it’s possible. Not in some Pollyanna, “let’s just hold hands and sing Kumbaya” kind of way, either. But in the practical “I’ve seen this happen, I know it’s possible," kind of way. And I consider myself one of the lucky ones, because lots of people can go through their entire lives wondering if it’s possible or not. And now I don’t have to wonder.

People can be incredibly kind and generous and people can be horribly malicious and cruel. And on that day, in those moments, I witnessed both in their purest forms. I saw it in the crumbling towers and felt it as I was guided through the city by a man covered in ash and rubble from the North Tower from which he ran.

So today, just like every year on this day, I choose to look at the skyline I’ve grown to call home and remember the darkness and the light. To know that it’s possible, to take a breath and relax as tourists stop in the middle of the sidewalk in awe of the city I sometimes take for granted, and to remember those who don’t have the luxury of being here today to know what’s possible.

None of us will ever forget, I don’t even think we could if we tried. But what I hope we can also remember is that it’s possible to come together, it’s possible to be just a little bit kinder, just a little bit more patient, just a little bit…more.

It’s possible. Please don’t forget. 

How Marriage Turned Me Into a Monster

So, we got married. I realize that I’m sort of late to the game on this announcement, but apparently when you get married, you completely lose track of space and time and fly to foreign lands where blogging is overshadowed by flowery drinks and king sized beds.

ALSO! The king sized bed is the key to all happiness and renders you virtually unable to detect another human on the very other side of this enormous sleep heaven. It was win/win for my blossoming marriage and, upon returning to the reality of New Jersey, our sad queen had me suggesting to CB that “maybe you should go and sleep on the blow up air mattress in the living room.” To which I think he just told me how much he loved me and how happy he was that he’s legally bound to me for forever and ever. I mean, that was the gist.

Anyway, while thinking about what my very first “official” blog post would be as Mrs. CB, I realized that I could bore you with details about centerpieces and lacey dresses and having the best time ever. But that’s not why you come to this here blog now, is it? Besides, all of the beauty got overshadowed by marriage taking all of mine away within 48 hours, to the tune of CB waking up Monday morning and saying “what’s wrong with your face?”

Ahh, love.

You see, for a few days leading up to our wedding, I was having a hard time sleeping. And so, come Saturday, I was basically running on coffee, excitement, and love fumes that fueled me well into the wee hours of Sunday morning. Which found me wide-eyed and still awake into the less-wee hours of Sunday and right on into the dark hours of Sunday night when I started dry coughing, popping Advil, and low-moaning about why my body hated me.

And I’m sure that CB would’ve been a lot more sympathetic to my plight had he been awake and not snoring in the “listening to how sick you feel” position in bed. However, I figured a night of taking nighttime cold medicine, 18 cough drops, and lots of water would do the trick.

But the joke was on me and my excitement over hopping a 22 hour flight to my honeymoon the next day when I woke up to what I can only describe as “Sloth Face.” Except less charming? 

Not the look you want your
new husband to experience. At least not
'til Year Two. 

Apparently, my body responds poorly to stress, exhaustion, and intricate planning that depends upon nothing going wrong. And so, when I took a look in the mirror, all I saw was a severely puffy face and incredibly dark, “you got punched in both eyes” circles that accentuated the wrinkles I recently acquired along with my new last name.

Me: “What the f happened to my face?!?”
CB, being cautious and smart: “I think maybe you’re tired…”
Me, turning around to point at my face: “Tired?! Why is my face swollen and I have two black eyes and wrinkles??”
CB: “Yeah, I’m not sure what’s happening…”
Me: “I mean, maybe it’s sinuses? But I’ve had sinus infections before and it’s never looked like this.”
CB: “It definitely does look unique to anything I’ve seen before.”
Me: “We have to go to urgent care.”
CB: “And you should probably put on some sunglasses.”
Me: “I hate you.”

But he was right.

Fast forward to an hour later as I was sitting in the doctor’s office and explaining my symptoms.

Doctor: “I’m not quite sure what it is, but it’s likely viral. But let me check your ears first because, if you have an ear infection, you won’t be able to get on the plane.”

And then, without having to say any words, CB and I looked at each other and came to the understanding that, should said ear infection exist within my body, he would be experiencing Indonesia all on his own and we’d get over the horrible fight later that we would be having to lead to that decision.

Doctor: “No ear infection, so that’s good news.”
Me: “Oh thank God, I thought you might be going alone!”
CB: “I’m glad we were on the same page.”

Anyway, she prescribed some meds, sent me with a list of over-the-counters to buy at CVS, and wished us a happy, virus-free life together. And I’m happy to say that, by the time we landed in Bali, I was much less swollen, very well-rested, and ready for the adventure! And what an adventure it was……

….which I’ll tell you about next time! Happy Monday, everyone! 

Yep, we got married! CB is legit!

It's, like, 3 in the morning my body's time and it's getting quite angry with me that I'm not sleeping. However, in a few days I should be back to normal (using the term loosely) and blogging my little heart out about Weddingpalooza and Bali, baby! 

But right now I'm just posting this video of our last song at the reception because it makes me happy. 

Thanks for checking in, guys, and for hanging in there over the last several weeks while I've been such a selfish non-blogger!