The proverbial other shoe

Look at me, all over the shoe theme!

Today's post:  the exciting (?) conclusion of my list of 25 Things You Must Commit To Memory. 

14.  I will not work on my birthday.  Ever.  I think I got used to having the day off for it when I was in school, and then when my career took me back into education, it just stuck.  I started my new job a couple months ago and one of the first things I did was to stake out that day on the vacation calendar.

15.  I.  Love.  Sandwiches.

 "What is Joey's favorite food?"

"Sandwiches!"

Ross & Monica (David Schwimmer & Courteney Cox), Friends, "The One with the Embryos"

I love 'em.  A BLT is damn near a perfect food.  My panini press is my favorite kitchen appliance.  I'm also a big fan of creating my own combos.  Creamy peanut butter pairs surprisingly well with some weird stuff... crisp dill pickle chips; salty, smoky crumbled bacon; extra sharp cheddar cheese.  Yeah, I know:  it sounds gross and makes you wonder if I'm pregnant, but it's not and I'm not!

16.  Speaking of NOT KNOCKED UP I SWEAR, I don't have the baby fever just yet, buuuuuuut... I'm fairly certain I'm going to be a kickass mom.  I'm one of those people who genuinely enjoys being around her family and I'm excited to pass that along.  The best part (J please stop reading for a sec) is that J is the same way; his two brothers are his best friends and all three of them are fiercely protective of their little sister... so it's like I already know he'd be good at it too.  (OK J, safe to start reading again.  Thanks love!) 

17.  The reason I don't have the baby fever is that I enjoy being the combination superhero/bad influence far too much for now!  Exhibit A:  I may or may not have bought a drum set for a five year-old once.  Just saying.

They were Spider-Man drums, which made them even MORE badass.  

If a five year-old could say badass without getting scolded.

18.  I read a lot.  A LOT.  At last count I had more than 175 books.  (It was super fun to move them to the new place.)  I dated a guy in college who finally stopped going to bookstores with me because "we walk in and [my] eyes glaze over and [I] stop paying attention to [him]."  My shelves hold classics, chick lit, historical fiction, memoirs... the occasional guide to "bettering yourself"... and they're all embossed with my "from the library of" seal. 

19.  Speaking of that name embosser:  I love my middle name.  I am very particular about how it's spelled; my way is lovely and classic and the other is not.  Get it right.

20.  I almost got married once.  Like, "two weeks to the Big Day" almost.  Not going through with it was, at once, the scariest and bravest decision I've had to make in my entire life.  He's a good guy... just not the good guy for me.

21.  That little factoid is what I meant when I wrote in the first half of this list that it's nice to start fresh.  Yes, it was a big deal once upon a time, but now it's just something that happened.

22.  Runaway Bride is one of my all-time favorite movies.  *SIGH*  OK, peanut gallery, knock yourselves out.

23.  I went to an all-girls high school.  AND I LOVED IT.  We made t-shirts that said "Panther Football:  Undefeated Since 1923!!"  We didn't bother with daily make-up and ponytails were the de facto hairstyle.  More than that, though, we were immersed in an environment where women held the leadership roles.  We could ask questions without worrying what some boy would think; we were encouraged to push ourselves and stretch past the status quo.  When I got to college, not only was I incredibly well-prepared for the academics, but also, I realized that I was equipped to hold my own in any social setting... which is more than I could say for some girls, used to deferring to guys.  I know the Elms is largely responsible for my savage independent streak!

24.  Sure, it was all girls during the school day... but that didn't stop me from going to four different senior proms, at four different schools, with four different dates.  HEY-OHHHH!

25.  Live theater brings me to tears every time.  I've seen The Phantom of the Opera, RENT, Wicked, Les Miserables, The Lion King, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat... and the list of shows to see is growing as quickly as I can cross them off!

Phew.  So there you have it.  Hope you enjoyed Volume Two!

"Huh. Surprised you didn't know that."*

If you've got a Facebook page or a MySpace account, you've encountered the meme floating out there on the interwebs that asks you to catalog 25 things about yourself that people may not know.  I wasn't going to resort to this, but I see that a few other bloggers have already done it, so I figured eh... what the hell.  Problem is, I'm a) a little strapped for time, 2) wary of boring the handful of readers I have and d) lazy,** so I'm only going to list half of them today. 

Without further ado... all kinds of crap about me!

1.  I am totally a city girl.  I love the charm of small towns; I went to college in one and I can't imagine having had it any other way... but I love the bustle and noise and crowds of a big city.  It's what keeps me from getting too homesick, now that I live in my fair state's capital.  I love driving out of the city, seeing the skyline in my rearview mirror and being able to pick out the individual buildings.

2.  As much as I love the 'bus, though, I love my 'Rowdy hometown.  No, I mean, I love it.  It is frequently misrepresented and misunderstood, but then again, most great things are.  You just need the right tour guide to get a true sense of the place.  Are you a Cleveland Cavs fan... or a basketball fan in general... or alive at all?  You may have heard of a guy named LeBron James.  Yeah:  dude went to high school four miles down the street from me.  Are those Goodyear tires on your car?  Hello, WORLD HEADQUARTERS.  It was a terrific place to grow up and I'm proud to come from there.

3.  One of the most refreshing things about moving here has been the fact that I'm starting with a clean slate.  I have friends here, and of course J's here, but other than that, very few people know my backstory... with the result that I have the remarkable opportunity to start fresh in my 30s.

4. J and I have known each other for just about our entire lives. His mom's family lived down the street from my dad's family when they were little; his dad and my uncle have been BFFs since grade school. It took us three decades to get together as a couple, though, and it was 100% worth the wait. On our first date, we were all chatty and catch-uppy, and when I got up to go to the ladies' room, the bartender smiled at J and said "so, second date's going well, huh?"  So cute.

5.  My sister and I are incapable of having a conversation without using lines of movie dialogue.  It's a sickness, really, but it's hilarious. 

6.  Speaking of her, I just recently (like, this week), admitted that I'm getting old, when I made a couple references to some old cartoons and she had no memory of them whatsoever.  I mean, sure, it was old when I saw it for the first time, but GOD, please tell me someone else out there has seen and/or remembers this!

7.  And speaking of old, I'm also the oldest grandchild on both sides of our family.  I got to do everything first until I was 24, when one of the cousins got married.  Others soon followed suit, and now I love that I'm one of the last holdouts!

8.  Red is my favorite color to wear.  I think it's partially due to my loyalty to Miami, but it's also because it takes balls to wear and the effect on people is terrific.  It could be a dress, shoes, lipstick... people want to be around a woman in red.

9.  I want Rachel McAdams to play me in the movie about my life.  She's got the name thing down and she.  Is.  Darling.

Cute much?!

10.  Given that I've worked for three universities, and that I've enjoyed those three jobs more than anything else I've done with my career, I have no choice but to concede to my mom's long-held opinion that I'm an educator at heart and I belong in this field.  I'm not about to make crazy money, but I need a cause, not just a job. 

11.   One of my favorite things to do with J and our friends is game night.  Apples to Apples, UNO, The Game of Things, whatever... it's like being a kid, but with beer this time!

12.  I have a ridiculous gift for remembering names.  It was a huge advantage when I was a recruiter; I'd meet a student once and then be able to address them by name four months later.  It got to be a running joke in the office and my colleagues started calling me Rain Man (except, you know, in a nice way).

13.  I love dogs, and cats are a close second, but the way I see it?  If I'm going to put that kind of time and energy and attention and cash into another living creature, it's going to be a kid.  It's one of the first things J and I agreed on:  we like impromptu happy hour and sleeping in wayyyyyyy more than we like picking up poop that's not our own. 

That's enough for now!  A future post will have the other half of the list. 



*Tommy Callahan (Chris Farley), Tommy Boy
**"A..., 2..., and D..." is from Home Alone***

***See?!

Lean Cuisine can suck it.

I knew I shouldn't have gloated about my late mornings last week.

All hell broke loose at the office today... half an hour before I was due to go home.  

Of course it did.

When I finally found sanctuary at J's place, I was greeted with the homey smell of garlic bread wafting from the oven, [lowfat turkey] meatballs simmering in sauce, and a glass of pinot noir waiting for me by "my spot" on the couch.  Awesome.

Totally shameless 100% NON-guilty pleasure numero uno:  anytime J cooks dinner.

 Crisis averted!

Bon Anniversaire!

My sister E over at the heyday diaries is singing that title to herself right now.  (You're welcome!)

Today's entry in the gratitude journal:  my favorite pic of us.  My friend A caught it on the sly on a double date night.  Who knew she had such a photographer's eye?!

Happy first anniversary, J.  *smooooch!*

Eat it, winter.

The university closed early again today.  I got sent home at 2... and I pulled into the parking lot at J's place at 4.  

They're 15 miles apart.

Much like the rest of the Midwest and the Eastern seaboard, our fair state's capital has been getting hosed with snow this year.  My life is about one log cabin and a pot of beans away from turning into Little House on the Freakin' Prairie.  (Book six, The Long Winter, is my second favorite in the series, but damn it, I don't want to BE Laura Ingalls!)

This chapter in our snow story may be the worst yet this winter, but the silver lining is that it might lead to a snow day tomorrow.  They told us to wrap up our Monday itineraries before we left... and to reschedule any Tuesday meetings or appointments... you know, just in case.  

Well, hell.  Don't dangle a carrot like that unless you mean it!

With the prospect of a snow day looming, I have to confess that the two hour drive home was complicated by a stop at the only Whole Foods in Columbus.  In my defense, though, it's walking distance from J's place, and if this keeps up and we get snowed in, we're going to need supplies!  

I went into the store, and it was snowing.  

I came out 20 minutes later (and X dollars poorer), had to scrape ice off my windows, and it was snowing.

J and I sat down to watch a marathon of Pawn Stars on The History Channel almost three hours ago, fortified with adult beverages and some bacon-cheese popcorn, and it was snowing.  

A pot of my awesome "patate del paesano" has been simmering for about two episodes.  The house smells incredible, J just poured me a second glass of shiraz... and it's still snowing.

Fingers crossed!  I'm going to invoke the third-grade prescription for getting a snow day tonight:  flushing ice cubes down the toilet and wearing my jammies backwards.  Stay tuned to see if it works!

A Day in the Life of Love.

That's the tagline for the movie Valentine's Day, opening tomorrow.  

Good, isn't it.  Makes me wish I'd thought of it.

Anyway.  The weekend is upon us:  time for roses and heart-shaped EVERYTHINGS and champagne (who are we kidding, it's always time for that).  Also time for the inevitable whining and complaining and bitter diatribes from the recently dumped and the perpetually single.

I have a friend who always says that she won the husband lottery; I LOVE that metaphor!  I have totally won the lottery with J - he's the best valentine ever.  But that's not the point.  I have loved this holiday for as long as I can remember, and not because of a boyfriend or a Whitman's Sampler or a big ol' carnival-style white teddy bear.  I didn't really start dating till I hit college (although that didn't stop me from going to four senior proms, HEY-OHHHH!) so it's not like I'm building my perceptions of the day on a game of M.A.S.H.  

The thing is, if you're lucky enough to have love in your life, celebrate it.  It could be your parents.  Or your "significant other."  Or your best friend.  Or your dog, for God's sake.  The shape it takes isn't important.  What is important is that you know what it is to care about another creature, and that you get that same in return.   

Yes, in a perfect world, we'd all celebrate it every day, and we wouldn't need a day set aside to remind us to appreciate what we have.  Absolutely.  No argument here.

But how nice that the day does exist.  I don't know about you, but when J is playing video games until two in the morning for the fourth time in a week, a little reminder that I love the guy doesn't hurt. 

This Valentine's Day, ignore the ones who gnash their teeth and rail against the "Hallmark holiday"... and delight in the fact that you know what it is to love. 

"Later that day I got to thinking about relationships.  There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back.  But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. 

"And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous."

- Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker), Sex and the City

 

mmmm...Sampler.

P.S.  A very special birthday wish to one of the stars of Valentine's Day:  Taylor Lautner turned 18 today, which means I am no longer a creeper, I'm just a cougar.  Meeee-yow, bitches!

Give it a rest, Rach.

I got another snow day today!  The university held out till 3:00, but the roads were getting worse and the snow just kept falling, so The Powers That Be convened an emergency meeting and decided to let us all go home.

It wasn't really a surprise.  My 15-mile commute took 90 minutes this morning, and I was one of the ones who had it easy.

The point is, though, that my first thought wasn't "freebie long evening, ahhhhhh!"  It was "holy crap!  Two extra hours to get a ton of stuff done tonight!"

Commute forgotten, Level 1 Snow Emergency be damned, I'm going to get some moving and unpacking done!  Watch out, new apartment; you don't even know what's coming!  

And then J was my reality check.  

"Rach:  the roads are ten times worse than they were this morning.  The boxes will still be there this weekend."

What my car would have looked like if I had had to work a full day.

Hrmph.  That guy is right, like, all the time.  

So I left the office, picked up a bottle of Shiraz (for me), a six-pack of Conway's Irish Ale (for J and his brother who's visiting), a little pot of broccoli cheddar soup and a loaf of crusty bread... and I've been sitting on the couch since 4:37.

What's cool is that today goes right along with yesterday's entry.  I make lists, an average of two or three a day.  My day planner might as well be my bible.  It stands to reason, then, that sometimes I need a little help shutting off that part of my life and just... being.  I'm writing this from J's couch (because I haven't moved mine yet, duh!) in a sweatshirt and yoga pants; he just got up to pour me a second glass.  He and his brother S and I are plotting out the evening's TV selections and trying to decide between Xbox or PS3 in the meantime.

I know exactly what's going in the gratitude journal tonight.  

Baaaaa!!

OK.  MODG started something here.  Sarah jumped on it and Jenni was right behind her... not since my days at an all-girls' high school have I so keenly felt the effects of peer pressure.  (Don't worry, kids:  high school is a post for another day.)

Here we go:

 

Paula Deen!?

*deep breath*

OK.  Let's give it one more shot.

I hate you Internet.


FYI:  I just said that out loud and J said "YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW." 

Although it IS kind of cool to be associated with DJ Tanner.  Remember the one when she starved herself and worked out like a maniac because Kathy Santoni was "sooooo pretty"!?  

Yeah.  I went there.

The one thing that sort of redeems this whole project is this one...

 

Ha haaa!! J, you look like Ross!  And Dawson!  What a buncha d-bags.

Shut up ladies, he's MY d-bag.

Wanna try it?  Upload a pic and go nuts.

Guilty as charged, bitches!

Humpity hump hump hump!!  *snort*

Shhhh... hear that?  It's the weekly test of the emergency alert siren!  The one in my hometown only fires up on the first Wednesday of every month, but the one in this fair city is EVERY WEDNESDAY BY GOD, lest we all be caught unawares...

I'm all right with it, if only because it means lunch hour on the third day of the work week = exactly halfway to the weekend!

So it's time once again for Guilty Pleasure Wednesday:  the safe space for airing those things you refuse to be sorry for!

Last week I copped to loving reality TV; this week is a variation on the same. 

J and I looooove us some Biggest Loser... but what I love most about it is that Tuesday night means takeout or Ben & Jerry's on the couch while we watch it.  Sometimes both. I spend the rest of my week trying to watch what goes into my mouth, trying to work out (and usually failing), all that healthy skinny jazz.  But then our Tuesday date night rolls around, and HELL YEAH, J and I are sitting side by side on the couch, talking with our mouths full and feeling better about ourselves by the minute.

If that's not love, I don't know what is.

Time to admit to those shameless little indulgences....

Neverending Story III: Rachel vs. the Baby

Remember this little nugget?

Falcor:  I like children.

Atreyu:  ...for breakfast??

Falcor:  BWAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA

Mmmmm... tastes like chicken.

The world welcomed another little peanut yesterday morning:  new little baby cousin L is finally here, almost two weeks late to his own birth and weighing in at ten-plus pounds.  Aw!!  Just like his cousin Rachel... almost 32 whole years ago.  (Seriously kid, I'm the oldest of the grandchildren.  I am the original "been there, done that" in this family.)

Just kidding (well, sort of).  He is, of course, amazing!  So sweet and cuddly-looking and with tons of personality already; not that I expected anything less.  I won't get to see him till this weekend, but you better believe I have a bunch of fun little baby gifts all lined up already; this one is my favorite.  Also briefly considered this one one for my aunt and uncle, until I realized they are way too mature for such a gift.  

I might get it for myself, though.  Can't hurt to be prepared. 

I've entered that life phase now where bachelorette parties and drunk dials have been replaced with baby showers and calls home to the sitter.  Tons of my friends have kids already, and the ones that don't are starting to think about it.  If you're one of them:  congratulations (and for the love of God, don't ever use the phrase "we're trying" in conversation with me)!

I looooooove being Aunt Rach to my girlfriends' babies and Fun Cousin Rach to the family munchkins.  Perfect example:  A has a 15-month-old daughter who is a RIOT.  Before I moved, one of my absolute favorite things to do was to fake a sick day to have a playdate with the two of them.  Yes, really!  We'd spend a few hours playing with her toys and reading books, and when Little C crashed for a nap, A and I would park ourselves on her big squashy couch to catch up over lunchtime martinis and terrible daytime TV.  (A is also the founder of our fabulous book club, which is a future blog entry in itself.  Just writing this makes me miss her!)

But I also love going home afterward, mixing a Bloody Mary and eating a balanced dinner of Cheez-Its and gummi worms. 

Plus, I think I should probably get married first.  Call me a traditionalist, but somehow I think my Irish/German Catholic grandmas would frown on a white dress if I provided my own ring bearer. 

There's the actual pregnancy and labor to consider.  Sure, TV and movies dramatize it, but if it weren't really going to include growling like a wild animal, they probably wouldn't call it childbearing.  

And then we have the genetic wild cards I'm going to be holding.  I'm not exactly an Amazon, but I'm tallish for a girl, and J, God love him, is a wee bit on the furry side.  Cute as we both may be, there is a distinct possibility that we could end up with a sasquatch for a child.  

 

"Mamaaa!!"

Honestly, I'm a tad relieved that there's a new baby in the family... takes any heat off my sister and me.  I'll get there eventually, but for now I'm perfectly content to be the aunt that Mommy and Daddy warn their kids about.  

"Aunt Rachel was kidding when she said you were adopted...

and for God's sake, don't drink out of her 'water bottle.'"

Should this blog entry be unable to fulfill its duties, the runner-up entry will take its place.

Actual conversation that happened this weekend:

Me: OMG Miss DC looks like Heidi Montag!!
J:  Before or after the plastic surgeries?
Me: ...between.

A and C and I started a tradition when we were roomies back in 2006:  we watch the Miss America pageant in cocktail dresses and tiaras; we make each other sashes with snarky little titles on them (I'm still the reigning Miss Rubber City); we drink champagne and reveal hidden talents. 

Sadly, we only lived together that one year, and the pageant party went dormant for a while. 

It was resurrected in 2009 and we had such a kickass time that I vowed to make it an annual event!  Unfortunately, the fete was sidelined again this year by my move to the big city.  Between the move and starting the new job and a number of other distractions, I simply didn't have the time to do it justice.  Instead of drinking champagne in my LBD, I'm drinking a Miller Lite in my Snuggie.
 

From this:

To this:

To maintain some semblance of tradition, then, I kept track of some of the things that ran through my head tonight.  Enjoy...
 

• I want Clinton Kelly to be my boy-friend.  (Read Bright Lights, Big Ass by the charming, disarming Jen Lancaster for a detailed description of the difference that one little hyphen can make.)
• Miss New Mexico looks like my friend Angela!!
• Shawn Johnson is absolutely poured into that dress.
• Rush Limbaugh?  For realsies?
• Want Katie Harman's necklace.  WANT.  
• Hey, remember when Brooke White was relevant?  No?  Me neither.
• On adding a 15th finalist based on the votes of the remaining 39 girls:  what. The. Crap.  Good idea in theory... not so much with the execution.  Did you see the deer in headlights look on the one girl's face?  Which one?  YES.  
• Digging the soundtrack this year.  Black Eyed Peas, Stevie Wonder, V Factory, Pat Monahan, a little Gaga fo' yo'self... nice work, pageant people.  *EDITED TO ADD:  ah, you lost me at Katy Perry.  
• Note to self for the swimsuit shopping this year:  black bikinis look too much like underwear from far away.  
• HA HAA:  the peanut gallery is standing out of order... yay, Miss Nebarska!!  *snort*
• I-ro-ny (n., ahy-ruh-nee):  a pageant contestant telling me that looks aren't important and that what matters is what's on the inside.
• What's with the bicycle bell between each of the evening dresses?
• She tripped!  Dear God, MISS TEXAS TRIPPED!
• Was it just me, or could you totally see RIGHT UP Ericka Dunlap's (2004 winner) dress?  Let's do our best not to tarnish the crown, sweetie.  
• I love how the talents are the "Pop-Up Video" portion of the show.  She's a ballerina... and her goal is to become a pediatric heart surgeon!  She performed at the Apollo Theater in NYC... and at Obama's inauguration festivities!  She's an opera singer... and she wants to get her motorcycle license!

Second actual conversation of the evening:

Me:  Miss Hawaii is doing the hula for her talent!?

J:  ...she would.

Aw.  Love that guy.

• Miss Kentucky may or may not be a python.  Wouldja look at the mouth on that girl!  
• Am I drunk again, or do they really have Joe-on-the-street characters asking the final questions?
• Her?  Really!?

So there you have it.  Polish your tiara and practice your tap dancing and baton twirling, because next year's competition is going to be a doozy!

Some girls have all the luck.

 

...and I'm not one bit sorry about it.

J is the boyfriend.  He's cute, if you like that "former college athlete-smarter than your Calc prof-takes you to chick flicks without rolling his eyes" type.

Which I DO.

We've been dating just this side of a year, and for the first 10 months we lived two hours apart.  Then, through the magic of new jobs and U-Haul trucks and an inhumane amount of packing tape, I moved to his fair city a month ago.

And it. Is. Awesome.

The best part about it is that I would have moved here even if not for J.  I love my hometown.  Northeast Ohio kicks ass and anyone who says otherwise never had ME for a tour guide.  But there's something... something about this city that just draws you in and makes you want to know everything about it.  I'd tried to move here twice before but never got the timing right:  I was looking for a paycheck, not a career, and I didn't know which were the "good" neighborhoods, and I only had one or two friends in the area.

Now?  I've landed a job that makes perfect sense in my life, both professionally and personally.  In two weeks I'm moving out of my temporary home at a friend's house and into a lovely little apartment (with my first ever walk-in closet! *SIGH*).

And my boyfriend, my best friend, is here too.  

Before, with more than a hundred miles between us, we had to actively plan out our dates.  Weekends were too short and it was An Occasion every time we got to see each other, since those times were always at least five days apart.


Now?  Weekends are still too short, but it's not as important because we don't have to cram a week's worth into them.  

"If I haven't said it before, she's a lucky, lucky lady."*


Friends, season 8 #15, "The One With the Birthing Video."**

**See?  Told you.