We need to talk...

Sometimes one of my favorite authors posts on facebook and I will stop everything.  EVERYTHING. to read the entire post at least twice.  Today she inspired me so much that I thought you and I should sit down and hash some things out.

We just finished Christmas (mine was great, how was yours?  great!) and are in that awkward leftovers-consuming-yet-feeling-humongous-stage between Christmas and New Years when you'll decide you're not humongous and yes you look like a babe in that dress made out of 100% glitter/sequins/shiny trinkets and yes it's a good idea to consume 2 bottles of champagne and dance until you break and/or lose one of your shoes.

Or that's just me.

The new year is quite possibly my favorite. I love to organize, clean up the Christmas hubbub, and set some big goals for myself that I forget about in 12-17 days.  But the thing about the new year is that sometimes I look back at the year that has passed and I think, "Wow.  Where was I all year?"

And after reading my author-girl-crush's post, I started thinking...what if, this new year, we stop thinking about all of the things we want to change about ourselves and start thinking about the things we want to do with ourselves.

That's awkward.

What I mean is instead of setting yourself up to try and transform a part of you based on the past- like maybe you used to wear a size 2 and now that 2 is accompanied by another number or maybe you used to be a high school track star but you haven't owned a pair of running shoes in 3 years kind of thing- maybe we can all agree to make some changes based on what we want to become. Because nothing good ever comes from trying to go back to the way things were.  We never go back to that size 2 and feel the full satisfaction of looking 16 again.  Because you're 30.  And you have a fupa that the metabolism of Seabiscuit couldn't shed.

Instead of resolutions that will set me up for some sort of failure whether it's lack of commitment or disappointment in the end, I'm writing a list of to-dos for 2014.  30 things (because I will be 30 this year) Things that make my heart race.  It's exciting and I can't wait to share it with you.

I'm entering this short story contest that receives a disgustingly-overwhelming amount of entries.  I have no expectation of winning, but I do have a story to tell.  It's due on December 11th and I have been staring at 3 sentences all morning.  As we speak, I am listening to a guy do a cover of Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You and, simply put, bawling my eyeballs out of their sockets.

My short story is about how my grandmother met my grandfather.  There is not a movie production company big enough to put a story like this together.  It only happens in real life during one of the hardest times in our nation's history.  And this morning, I was lucky...blessed...something enough to be allowed to hear it from her all over again.

And it wrecked my morning.

And I can't seem to get past those 3 sentences without being overwhelmed with the pressure of adding enough emotion and detail to make it as real as it is.  She remembers every bit.  The outfit she wore, how he smelled, the pattern of blonde streaks in his hair.  The hole he left when he died.

And so it became my cliche "Thanksgiving week" blog post for a blog I sort of kind of never write on.

Dear Husband,

I fell in love with you again this weekend.  Weddings do that.  Time alone with you does that.  You do that.

Goggle met her husband at a party.  Just like I met you.
She knew she wanted to marry him right then.  Just like I did.
She never thought twice about it.  Neither did I.


And 27 years later, she talks about him like he's still there sitting next to her with a sly smile while she gushes over him.  But he's not there.

I never want to feel that. 
I am so thankful for every second.  Every smile.  Every laugh.

I will love you for all of my life.

Oh yeah, somewhere in the last few weeks, I went to a Backstreet Boys concert. WOO!

I mean, do I need to say much here?
I will never miss their show in town. 
When I am 64 and they decide to do one last tour before Kevin passes away (it will obviously be him), I will be there.

First Meal in First House

We finally, by the grace of the dear Lord in the sky, made it to the grocery store.  If I had to choose a place to pick up dinner one more time, I was driving my car straight off an overpass.

First meal in our first house!  

It was pizza, friends. 

But the pride of this here pie is in the crust

because it's cauliflower.

We need to infuse as many vegetables as possible in our meals to make up for the nasty from the last few days.

Oh, and also, we're glutards.

I made up the recipe as I went and it was moderately successful in holding together, but very tasty.

Here is sort of what I put in it (sort of = I don't remember)

- Cauliflower (you have to process it down, then steam it, then wring out ALL of the water and I mean all of it)
- 1/3 c shredded cheese
- Pizza from Penzy's
- Garlic Powder

I'd recommend baking it at 450 for about 15 minutes before you make your pizza- I did mine for about 10 minutes and it wasn't very crunchy

I also made the sauce from scratch-ish (does one can count?) not because I'm hipster or want to rebel against all pre-made foods, but because I forgot to pick some up.
It's a bit difficult...
- 1 can tomato paste
- 3 cloves garlic
- water

BOOM.  PIZZA.

1 guess as to what went down tonight

2 things I know:
1.  I am a natural at interior design
2.  I am not a natural at paint

Title Options for this post: "What I Have Learned in Five Days of Home Ownership" or "Hey Babe, the Fence Fell Down"

I'm not sure if you know this or not, but Devin and I are professional renters with commitment issues, and THIS is why it took us 4 1/2 years to pick a city to live in and a house to purchase.  We have rented the works: apartment with a nice, calming view of the parking garage with elephant neighbors upstairs, townhomes with flooded sidewalks and kitchens that give you chlaus and make you want to jab your eye out with a rusty spoon, apartments with office staff who lose your mail once a week...all of it...we have done it all and thus we just couldn't let go of the renter's life...but also the fact that every house we tried to buy was bought out from under us.  But, God and his timing and his sarcasm and his perfect plan all in full swing, we found our home in Austin.
And we die.
WE DIE.

So instead of learning from our last move mistake (read: we bought an eight week old puppy the day we moved in.  intelligent.), we decided it would be a smart move to leave the contractors at our house while we went to Houston to party with my family.  Let me be clear.  I will always choose a Backstreet Boys concert over anything.  But, the cost of spending Labor Day in the Woodhood was that we returned to a home that was not. even. close. to ready for move in.  And we were moving the next day.

What I have Learned in 5 days of home ownership #1:  Assuming Truly Does Make an Ass Out of You and Me or Maybe They Are Time Optimists Like Me 
Knowing what I know now, I probably would not recommend leaving 3 contractors in your house assuming they will get all of the work done and it will be perfect and ready for you and you will pin pictures of your bathroom and people will repin with admiration/praise/copycat syndrome.  This is not reality.  We had a firm message from the manager that "it would be tight, but they will finish Monday night" and we were staring at a bathroom floor with tile missing, no grout laid in yet, toilets in the bathtub.  And did I mention move-in day was Tuesday?

What I have Learned in 5 days of home ownership #2:  Moving Makes You Fat or Curing Moving Obesity One Uhaul Load at a Time
Our strategy for moving food/freezer stuff was to cook and eat pretty much all of it leading up to the move.  For the 2 weeks leading up to it, we really only bought things at the grocery store that we knew we would use up so that we didn't have to do 56 trips with a cooler.  However, if you teach your body to love clean eating (kudos Pump And Shred) and then proceed to trick it into thinking salads from 4 different restaurants is the same thing + counting moving a zillion boxes as your workout + stress, you will not be happy with the fact that your face looks like you're thirteen and you are wondering where you can pick up a quick moo-moo on your way home.  Next time, we will prepare meals we can pop in the microwave AND we will bring a meal to all of our friends who are moving.  No one should have to go through this.  Moving obesity is a problem.

What I have Learned in 5 days of home ownership #3:  Some People Have Their Act Together or That Timeframe Was For Real
I was feeling pretty discouraged around the contractors spending an extra 3 days in the house and had pretty much given up on humanity.  This potentially stems from my work environment where it is a BIG deal if you do not do what you say you're going to do when you say you're going to do it OR COMMUNICATE OTHERWISE.  Tile done by Tuesday.  It's Wednesday.  I can't live like this.  So, imagine my surprise when t-w-o deliveries were made to my home on. time.   

Thank you, AT&T U-verse for coming within your time-frame and Macy's for calling me 30 minutes before you delivered our new guest bed (and understanding that I was waiting in line at Torchy's and would be there ASAP).  You have restored my faith in mankind.

What I have Learned in 5 days of home ownership #4:  Creative Kitchen Storage or Hoarders Tend to be in Denial About How Much Stuff They Have
We cook 90% of our meals.  I bake.  A lot.  So, we have a lot of kitchen stuff- get. off. my. back.  What I've learned here is that I am in NEED of a beautiful, 6-7ft long sideboard/console/not china cabinet to store a lot of my kitchenware.  I have a great wall for it.  Help me find it.  Requirements: not mass-produced-everyone-has-it furniture (see here), must have character!  

What I have Learned in 5 days of home ownership #5:  Despite What Theologians Say, God is Sarcastic or Could Devin Be the Modern Day Prophet?
On the day we got the keys to our new house, we were roaming the backyard when our neighbors next door said hello through the fence.  No, I mean literally we could just talk through it because it's THIRTY YEARS OLD and also see-through.  Not sure if you've ever met my dog, but she has a bit of energy and we were trying to gauge whether she would be able to push the fence over if she put her weight on it.  Yes.  The answer was yes.  So we asked the neighbor if he would like to split the cost of the fence with us and, to our surprise, he said no as he and his family would be putting their house on the market in the next few days.  As we walked away, Devin muttered, "We need a big storm to come blow that fence over".  And I rolled my eyes because he obviously had not heard that Austin is the new El Paso.  We don't get rain.  Like, none.  So the odds of having a "big storm" were about as good as me making the SWAT team.  On Wednesday night (read: first night in our new house), a huge storm blew through, cut off our power, and knocked our fence over. 

And now, I am signing up for SWAT team tryouts.

That weird moment where you can't figure out if your alter ego is your real ego or if your real ego is your alter ego.

There's a chance that, in living in Austin for nearly a year, I have in fact adopted and ingrained the weird into my life.  A few months ago, a friend proposed that we attend a soiree labeled "Alter Ego Party".  Oh, my luck!  I already had one...a few years back, my brothers and I gave names to the personalities we likely became after a few bubblies- theirs Mr. Fabulous and Merv, and mine would be Ginger.  But Ginger had been locked away in the closet for some time and I knew we would need to redefine her- a new look, a new character.  An Alter Ego makeover, if you will.  And she would have a friend.  The missing piece of a dynamic duo.  And her name would be Estelle.

Here is what we know about these broads through the mastering of a technique called improving (read: making it up) answers to questions about them.

Estelle Rivers is a saucy little thing from Yonkers who likes extra ashy cigarettes, the smell of motor oil, and the cha-cha.  At least now she does.  She prefers a stiff martini, and by stiff I mean liquor and olives hold the olives.  The glass makes her look classy until she cha-chas that thing all over herself.  Estelle met and married Carl in her younger years.  When they met, he was the only sober one there- he wasn't a drinker, that Carl, until he met Estelle.  He gave her that gaw-gaw-gorgeous ruby red ring on her finger, but she had to give him the old Moe Green Special after he messed around with Ginger.   Friends over fellas, ya know?

Ginger Macdonald-Suarez kept both last names as the Macdonald family is was very well known in Yonkers for their bootleggin' during the depression.  She couldn't give up a name and a reputation like that.  Suarez comes from Rico, her late husband she met in Cuba during the war.  Don't ask which war.  Her memory is fading and it frustrates her when she gets her wars and seasons mixed up.   Rico approached her in the tattoo parlor where she got that beauty of a pirate tattoo.  No regrets.  Ginger loves a good shampoo & set, a strong cough drop, and an unexpected bar fight.  And she and Estelle loath the authorities.

And on a cold, dreary day, Ginger and Estelle's paths crossed at Grace's funeral in New Jersey.  A mutual friend's demise led to the power duo that Ginger and Estelle would become on and off the ice.

 

Ginger's strength and Estelle's grace made lifts and spins effortless.  They went on to win, like, every Olympic ice dancing event, were cast in picture shows, and became nation-wide celebrities.  And they would not. let. that. go.  Today, they still believe they belong at the top of the A list, and they'll give it to ya if you think otherwise.

There are moments...fine, the majority of the time...where we prefer to be Ginger and Estelle.  There are times where I want so bad to have been her in the 20s (30s?  40s?  50s?  We're not sure...) shmoozing with Pablo and Zelda and Cole over champagne, and it is in that moment, when I am talking to the checker at HEB in a Yankee accent that I realize I may actually be her and her alter ego may be me. 

And Ginger and Estelle will live on.  We won the alter ego contest at the party and were cast in the production company's next movie. Here's a tease.

Dear Husband,

Tonight I went to a new coffee shop on the East side... Or, new to me.  While I waited on my decaf Americano, I overheard a group of people in the back of the small, old house hooting and hollering as an older male voice belted something unrecognizeable all the while strumming his battered guitar.  You of all people know that when I did in fact get my hands on that Americano, I plopped myself in a chair right in the middle, and they smiled at me as if I was their long lost cousin who just made it to the party.  And I wanted to know them.  Their names, their stories, the song he tried so hard to play.  A family, I gathered, here for a birthday celebration, and the man brought his guitar just so he could sing to her on her special day.  That's your kind of love.

Imagine my horror when I realized the book I thought I had with me was in fact not in my bag.  You know that mood too well.  So I watched and discovered something so sweet.

Within the group of squawking, bellowing friends was a couple who were making their way to say goodbye.  He, in his late 80's, with his white fedora and matching handlebar mustache.  She, possibly his senior, in a long blue polyester skirt, blouse, and floral cardigan.  Her glasses slipped down her nose, and just before they flat out fell off her face, she would catch them with her pointer finger, and press them back.  And she smiled...the biggest, happiest smile...because from what I could gather, most of them were her children.  A mama with her chicks.  Oh my heart.

And as they walked out, she kissed the right cheek, then the left, on everyone at the party saying not a word.  On her last goodbye, the man thanked her in Spanish and I wondered...could she understand anything anyone said tonight?  And if not...there's so much I can learn from her.

As they left the coffeehouse, she clung to her man's arm like a fireman down a fire pole and they walked step for step together.  He took his time gingerly escorting her down the 3 steps, and when he got too far ahead, she flailed her arms not because she needed to hold on to stand up, but because she wanted to hold on to stand up.

If I can't have anything else in this world- if I live wanting for the rest of my days- please, let me be there.  With God and with you.  Holding onto to your arm like there's no ever-lovin' tomorrow so I can stand up.  It is absolutely all I want for my life.

Wife

Enchilada, hold the hydrolyzed soy because I don't know what that is.

The mister requested enchiladas the other night and, per my enchilada recipe, I found myself in the Hispanic food aisle of the grocery store staring at the ingredients of all of the different sauces available, and THAT is when I realized something life changing. 

I could just make it.

So I did...

And Devin said it was the best enchilada he's had...

So I thought I'd share the sauce I made!

In a food processor combine:
- 1 can organic tomato paste
- 1/2 can organic diced tomatoes
- 3 cloves garlic
- 2 tsp cumin
- about 1/3 cup water (more if you like runnier sauce- Devin preferred it thicker)
- 1 hatch green chile

Blend!

I made a batch for the mixture in the enchiladas and a separate batch to pour on top. 

 

Cheers to knowing what's in your food!

(Note: delicious and nutritious dinner: half enchilada served on bed of spinach with onion and avocado.  Use salsa as a dressing!)

Abode

Y'all...

We have a house!

This beauty is ours and we get to start work on her first thing August 26th.  Our first digs are in terrific condition, but the previous owner's taste resembles that of an 80's beach house.  Need a visual?

I think this nails it.

So we started our master to do list (more on that later) and all I can think to do in my spare time is geek out over super cool websites like Pinterest and Young House Love and...Lowe's.  And after we have the guys remove the popcorn on every square inch of the ceilings, we'll move in and get to work on our little roost.

As for the backyard, Bird has no idea what she's in for.

Sub 100 temperatures: I missed you, Fall.

Tax Free Weekend, Back to School, Football Preseason...Fall is here, friends, and even though Austin, Texas is repping the Summer weather, I. Am. Ready.

I always am, but for the 18 years that I have lived South of the Dee Eff Dub, I have consistently been shocked that it's still so dadgum hot.

And so, to prepare for the cold fronts I am manifesting, I have done the following.

I traversed over to the Mecca only to stumble upon a new Austin transplant named Hannah who dressed me head to toe in endless outfits that I could never in my wildest imagination come up with.  I think I'm stylish when I wear more than one bracelet.  I walked out with this dress of which Devin said I looked like the church organ player from his Baptist childhood memories.  I returned it, but these I shalt not return. 

They are gorgeous and I can only assume Dr. Scholls' hip, trendy, great niece created the innards because I swear I could Prancercise in these blister free.

Secondly, I bought this.

Because I'll be able to wear it in 6 months for a good, solid 2-3 weeks.  Reasonable.

I think it's fair to say I'm drooling over all sorts of things for my kitchen...because if you gave me $1000 to spend, I would probably spend $950 on my kitchen, $12.95 on a new bone for Bird, and the rest on clothes.  I'm loving the plums and mustards that Sur la table has out, and I want every ghost and leaf and pumpkin cookie cutter ever made.  I decided to welcome Fall into my home yesterday with a little gluten free baking sesh- Pumpkin Apple Muffins in some super cute and unique papers from some expensive baking supply store Marshalls.

Bloglovin'

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Oh, hey!

You can find me on Bloglovin now...it's like Google Reader...but maybe better? 
Or just different.
See you there!

Goals and Abzzz and Some Probably Nots

2 months ago, I came to this realization that I am almost 30 (gasp. barf. yay. sex and the city.).  That's it- end of realization.  Actually, I got to thinking about some friends of mine who never took the time to take care of their bodies before they had littles.  And then they had littles.  And then their bodies were even harder to take care of.  And I realized that if I were to have a little soon (IF!!), I would want to have a seriously solid body beforehand.  And thus, a goal was born.

For the past 8 weeks, I have submerged myself deep into a nutrition/workout/clean eating/learn about yourself (what do you guys even describe it as?) program with Pump and Shred here in Austin.  Melisa is a friend from college and obviously legit (see pictures here).  When I  had a bit of a light-bulb moment one day, I called her up for a little chat about abs and things.

And thus, my journey began with P&S! 
I started as someone who worked out all the time.  And D and I were eating about as "clean" we thought it could get- fruits, veggies, proteins, no gluten or dairy in our diets.  But I was never seeing any progress or change and, in fact, never feeling any stronger. 
I would love to tell you it has been easy and everyone should absolutely do it, but it hasn't always been easy.
It takes preparation, discipline, WILL POWER.
And sometimes you don't see or feel results you thought you would and you have to tweak and change and figure out what's missing.
But it has been the BEST thing I have EVER done for myself and if you're driven and committed, you should absolutely look into Melisa and Jess helping you out.
I am 8 weeks in and signed up for 4 more so I can start learning how to do it all on my own.  I have seen so much change and I feel better to the point where I don't even want the junk for fear of how it will make me feel. 

I am at that fairly crucial moment when you are going for a goal and you decide whether you really want it or if it's not truly what you desired. 

And THAT has taught me so much in the past 8 weeks- really looking at goals for my/our life and deciding if it's truly what we want or just what we feel like we should do...

We've been there before when we almost moved to Colorado and just weeks before realized we didn't like so much cold weather. 
I've been there in my career years ago and am there again now.  It's a tipping point of sorts where you get to decide to keep going for something or reconsider your heart and take another path. 
So we're probably not going to travel to 9305738202 places because our hearts truly want to be in our beautifully furnished, decorated home full of the people we love. 
I'm probably not going to teach people how to cook/bake for a living someday because my heart loves to do that alone. 
I probably will move toward a writing career. 
I probably AM going to get another puppy because I need it.

What kind of title can I write that says, "Oh, hey, I haven't written in too long and I think about it every day but then I just lose track of time and I haven't forgotten about you and we're up to a lot and I wish I could take the time to sit and write and tell you all about it"

Hi.
I can't seem to go a day without thinking about this sweet little space and what we built and what I wish I could find inspiration to do again.
Seems like every week someone asks me why I don't write any more.
Or they tell me they finally stopped following.
And I just keep thinking about writing and how much fun it was.  And how much I really loved to take pictures of sweet/funny/mundane details in my life and post them here.
I'm really busy.  It's a story I tell myself, but with the dog and the man and the job and the workouts and the work at home and the yada yada yada, sometimes I choose to catch up on New Girl rather than get creative here.
So, cheers to choice.
And here are some things.

My girlfriend has a blog.  It's a big goal for her to have lots of readers and for her to spread the love.
www.helloclementine.com
Put it on your list.  Leave her comments.  Her heart will spill over.  Yours will too.

Our friend broke his arm and we had a bake sale to raise money for his ridic medical bills.  We baked for 2 long days so we could bring only the best.  I didn't eat a bite (maybe one) because I started Pump and Shred 2 weeks ago.

We Martha Stewarted the shiz out of that bake sale.  Cute wrapping, amazing treats, and we raised almost $500.
And we have matching shirts.  Because why not?

More to come, I hope.
Also, my blog is spammed and I get about a bazil anonymous comments a day about chinese paper factories and employment opportunities.  So I should figure that out.