Under Pressure

With all of the joy of Christmas, I become stressed. I feel the pressure to come up with good gifts. Mostly, for Jeff. It's not that he puts any sort of pressure on me, well not aggressively anyways. I just feel that need because he always seems to blow my socks off. I feel the need to try to live up to that.

I have had, probably, one success in our seven years of gifting each other. Before it was too popular, I got Jeff the Sirius Satellite Radio, the Sportster edition. I really had no idea what it was or what it did. All I knew was that he could listen to NBA and college basketball games on there. Knowing that is always a plus, I went for it. Turned out to be a great gift.

Beyond that, I have thrown some duds Jeff's way. One year I got Jeff a GPS for his car. A pretty good gift, one would think. Jeff definitely agreed at the time. I didn't cheap out and give him one that didn't work. It had a lot of features and he used it quiet often. The problem here, was that Shea was in a his horrible puppy stage. The stage that I absolutely despised him and hated Jeff for bringing him into my life! While Jeff was at work one night and I was in the other room, Shea jumped up on onto the counter and managed to completely destruct the GPS. Shred it to pieces with his dagger teeth. There goes that somewhat decent gift. Once it was eaten, all credit for it was lost!

Another year, I really tried to think outside the box. One of Jeff's top things to order when we go out to eat is bar-b-que ribs. Ridiculous, I know, but I ran with it. There is place in Naples, Florida that I had been numerous times, called Michelbobs. They hold the title of "America's Number 1 Ribs." I knew plenty of people who agreed with that claim. So, I ordered 10 racks of ribs and some sauce for over $200 to be shipped to me. On Christmas morning, I made the mistake of sending Jeff on a scavenger hunt for his gift that was hidden in the freezer. He had to look in the oven, then the cupboard, then under the couch, and finally to the freezer. Jeff later admitted to me that the ribs were a huge let down, as he though when he looked under the coach that a flat screen TV would be waiting for him. Whoops!

My other bomb of a gift Jeff knew was coming. There, at least, was no let down here. We decided the year I was in graduate school to make each other gifts. I took it to the extreme and made everything and anything you can think of. I made Santa's sleigh out of chocolates, painted Christmas ornaments, made fudge and cookies, and made a necklace out of macaroni and bells. Believe it or not, there was more! I got out my mother's old sewing machine and made Jeff a beautiful, completely proportional stocking. I made him a nice fleece scarf, and the kicker were the two ties I made him. He has never once worn either of them. And, I don't think he is saving them for a rainy day. In fact, all of those gifts managed to stay inside the box I gave them to him in. The only thing missing is the chocolate sleigh. You guessed it, Shea got ahold of it!

 The kicker is that Jeff is an awesome gift giver. One of the best I have ever met! Gifts to the likes of a high quality digital camera, a laptop, and iPod, and a diamond necklace to name a few.

So, with Christmas lurking, I am feeling pressured to not give a sucky gift. At least I know Jeff's expectations are diminished at this point. He is getting used to my poor gift giving abilities. Ideas would be helpful!

Puppy Love

Jeff missed an important event today. Our little puppy boy, became a man. I'm pretty sure that what my friend, Gina, and I witnessed this afternoon was love. You see, we had a play date with Shea and her dog Roxy. It was scary how clearly their courtship reflected that of Jeff and I. There's however, progressed over the course of two hours, ours took a bit longer than that. 


As any normal relationship begins, there was a meet and greet. At first sight, Shea and Roxy were eager to meet. They took turns smelling each other. Much like people would shake hands and say, "so nice to meet you." Once the greeting was done, Shea took it to the next level: teasing. Think about it. What happens after you meet and you think you may like someone? Teasing! Jeff was the master of teasing. He may not have even meant it, but boy was he good! I fell right into the trap. In my spare time, I longed to be teased! It became an addiction. Shea must have learned this from his Papa, as he is quiet the tease. He immediately grabbed the frisbee and began teasing poor little Roxy with it. Little did he know, the teasing would lead to much, much more!

It was clear that Roxy soon felt that longing that I did. And, what else is there to do when you have that desire than to chase! In search of teasing, I chased Jeff. I chased him around Utica College, and basically the whole city of Utica. I wanted to be where he was in hopes of running into him. This wasn't hard as we both played basketball and spent endless hours in the athletic center. Jeff had no chance of getting away from me, no matter how hard he tried. The same proved true with Shea and Roxy. Roxy began the chase. Shea, unsuspectedly, just kept running. He would not let her catch him. He even took to hiding behind the shed at one point. His hiding was to no avail. Just like Jeff and I being confined to the athletic center, Shea and Roxy were confined to the fenced in backyard. There was no way to escape!


After being chased long enough, it seems as though the male has nothing left to do but surrender. Jeff did. He was so tired of me chasing him around, he decided it would just be easier to date me. Although Shea is in great shape, he does get tired at times. His surrendering occurred in the form of his laying down and allowing Roxy to get close to him. 

From here, things got serious. Shea started going behind the shed again, but not to get away from Roxy. More so, to get away from Gina and I. After they got to know each other a little better, behind closed doors, they decided they liked each other enough to go public. They began showing public displays of affection. They let us see them together. They showed us they liked each other. They held paws and looked into each other's eyes like nobody else mattered.

Roxy turned out to be a take charge kind of girl. She basically told Shea what she wanted and made him conform. And, did he ever!

Right before my eyes, she turned my boy into a man! I almost felt uncomfortable being present. But, I feel like I have a lot to learn from Roxy. I like the idea of conformity! Maybe I could get Jeff to rub my feet or play with my hair if I had the kind of power Roxy does!

Either way, Shea is newly in love. Call it puppy love if you'd like, but Jeff and I's baby is certainly no puppy anymore. He is a man-dog!

Creative Goodbyes

I meet up with an old friend today. While our meeting was arranged because she was in town for Thanksgiving, it turned into more than that. My friend, Karen, had just gotten a message from her boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend I guess, telling her they were finished.

To be exact, his text said, "I know you're out shopping. You don't need to get anything for me. We are done." Yes, an adult relationship, ended with a text message. Not only that, but the way he decided to go about it has to be the biggest joke I've ever seen. Looking at the tears welling up in Karen's eyes, I stifled the laugh brewing inside. Our outing turned into me comforting and consoling her. Basically, I convinced her that anyone that would end a relationship that way was not worthy of a female pig rolled in mud.

This incident reminded me of the many crazy ways people have broken up over the years.  It all started in fourth grade. You remember, the note that says, "Will you go out with me? Circle yes or no." Amazingly, children's notes have not evolved much from those days. If yes is circled, the ensuing two week relationship would end in a very similar note. "Do you want to break up? Circle yes or no." Ahhh, the simplicity of pre-pubescense.

Things stepped up a little in middle school. I remember a relationship ended, although I was not personally involved. After a few months of a hot and heavy relationship, the guy wanted to break this off. He was too nervous to do it himself so he employed his friends. He allowed them free reign on how to do it. So, his two friends went up to this poor girl. One asks, "What's your favorite place to shop?"
She replies, "The Gap."
The second puts the nail in the coffin, responding with, "Well, you will have a lot more time to shop at the Gap, because So-and-so doesn't want to go out with you anymore!"

Harsh, right? I find it very similar to the way Karen was broken up with. The huge difference being in this example, the kids were 13 years old, not 28!

One other break-up sticks out in my mind. A girl, Beth, wanted to break up with this guy. She was so done with the relationship, but hated hurting his feelings. He wasn't the right guy for her, but he wasn't a bad guy. How could she do it without it being too painful? She came up with what she thought was a monster plan! She got a friend involved, an attractive friend, none the less. They were all going out to the bar together. The friend's job was to hang all over this guy and tempt him to cheat on Beth. This way, Beth could turn around and break up with this guy for cheating on her. He instantly becomes the bad guy and she is home free. Certainly an original break-up plan.

Again, the major difference being these were 18 and 19 year old kids, compared with an adult relationship. We can all agree that Karen's ex really made a jerk of himself with his break-up method. What crazy break-up methods have you come across over the years?

I secretly want to know so I can use them when I decide to break-up with Jeff. Cause that is going to happen!

A Minor Dent

Back in the year 2000, my parents were generous enough to buy me a brand new car to junk around in. It was nothing too special because, well, I was 17 years old. Almost ten years later and I am not a good driver. You can imagine how I started out!

The little car was perfect for whipping around town. It got me to and from whatever practices I had, to friends' houses, and to wherever I needed to go. It wasn't winning any beauty contests, but I didn't need it to. It served it's purpose. In fact, I think I was pretty lucky to have a brand new car as a teenager.

This upped our family car total to four. One for each of us. Dad was blazing around in his new Volvo SUV. My mother had just gotten a safe and sturdy Pathfinder, and Nick had the first model edition of the Honda CR-V.

Really, though, in all actuality, my father was overseeing five cars. His mother's car had to be included in there, as I have long considered her my parent's third child. She brought my father into this world with the belief that parents have children so that they can be taken care of when they get older. She has held my father to that standard every moment of his life. Being the artful man that he is, he has passed much of the "child" caring onto my mother. However, financially, she is his.

The fifth family car was a tad different. It was what Grandma picked in 1996 as her hot new ride. Mind you, she did have a budget, as my father did not want to drop $30,000 on a car that is technically not his.  Can't really blame him for that. So, my grandmother scooted around town in her Mitisubishi hatchback. I'm not even sure if it had a name.

Of course my father liked to test it out on occasion, make sure it was in good enough shape. While him and Nick were joy riding in it one day, they slammed into a deer and totaled the car. Nobody was injured, but Nick was somewhat scarred as he ended up face-to-face with the dead deer head. Only the cracked windshield separated them. So, the precession line of cars began. Grandma got my good old reliable first car. Nick got a new Honda Accord, still for no reason that I can see. I got the Pathfinder. Mom got a new a BMW 3-series. None of us could really complain about this occurrence. I think even Nick, as scarred as he was, liked the new arrangement.

Since those days, we have all had a few more cars. For some reason, cars come and go in my family like disposable contact lenses, switched out every two weeks. But, there has been one mainstay through the years; my grandmother's hand-me-down. She only dares to drive within a 5 mile radius, so there isn't too much damage she can do. Or so we have always believed.

She called frantic today, claiming someone had hit her car in the parking lot of a local convenient store, Stewart's. She spewed out every swear word in the book. Every degrading name you can imagine for a human being came out of her mouth. It was quite an earful. For what? Very minimal damage. A wet cloth with soap actually removed most of the scratches on the back fender. The worst part of all of this for my grandmother was how incredibly embarrassing it would be to drive around a car that had a dent in it. Did you see the Mitsubishi above? Yeah, a dent is embarrassing!

I found it funny to hear what she had to say about whoever hit her car. I remember about five years ago, a friend of mine saw her in the supermarket parking lot. He said she tried to fit into a tight parking spot. She hit the car in the spot next to her, backed up, and went to a different spot. Sounds pretty similar to what could have possibly happened here!

Speaking to my mother about it, it has come up that she may have actually backed into something without realizing it. There is a good possibility that the a$$*@le, m@*er-f^#@er that hit her car in the parking lot, may not even exist. I believe this raises another, more important question. Should she be on the road? At 87, and possibly hitting things without even realizing it, is it a good idea? Probably not.

The problem is she likes the way I drive the best out of my family members. She feels safe with me behind the wheel. Get rid of her license, and my life as a senior citizen chauffeur begins. Until Jeff is around that is. He, of course, would be her top pick. I can't say I blame her!

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving. While I think of how awful I feel about not spending the holiday with my husband, it is much worse for him. I have family here. He is out there in Cleveland by himself. With that realization, Jeff decided a while ago that he would volunteer on Thanksgiving by serving meals to those in need.

I love his idea and thought that even though we are apart, it was something that we could do together. Who knows, maybe we could start a new tradition of how we spend our Thanksgiving. A tradition all our own. Not one that we just have because of our extended families.

 

So, I spent most of my day at the firehouse in Ballston Spa, delivering and preparing meals. The lady in charge of the volunteers thought I was a high school student trying to get community service credit. It was interesting to see how once she found out I was not, I was treated differently and given more important jobs. She first sent me with an old couple to deliver meals to a few different senior citizen communities. She actually said, "I think it will be good for you to see." Funny, I didn't know she knew me so well. After it came out that I was an actual adult, I was given the job of utmost importance on Thanksgiving: serving up the turkey. Not the mashed potatoes, or green beans, the turkey!

Jeff did his community service a local Presbyterian church. He played an integral part in feeding those in need. While integral, it wasn't quiet as important as my job! He scooped mashed potatoes. Remember, I was in charge of the turkey!

I'm just kidding. Obviously, all of those that volunteered were doing a great deed. Something that helped others have a nice meal and feel some comfort on this important holiday. It was a great experience. Seeing others find joy, even through times of difficulty, is a powerful feeling.

Of course there is much to be thankful for in this life. For Jeff and I, today was a day that put everything into perspective. Life may not always be ideal, but we are very lucky in so many ways. Hopefully, sometime soon, this will be something we can do together at the same place.

Purple Faced

I love my job. There is an endless list of reasons why. I won't bore you with that. But, I do want you to know that part of the reason I love my job is because no day is the same. You have to be on your toes at all times. Boy, was I lucky to be on my toes today!

In a nice straight line, walking back from lunch, something happened. I turned around to catch the tail end of one of my students falling flat on her back. Mind you, we were in the tile-floored hallway. For the half second before I figured it out, I assumed she had tripped. There was no way she tripped though, she made no attempt to catch herself. My inhabitions were proven correctly as my class informed me that she just passed out. I was to her in a split second and her eyes were rolled to the back of her head. She was lying unresponsive. I kept calm on the outside as my class of little 10-year eyes were watching my every move. Inside, my heart was in my stomach and I was panicked Utterly panicked.

A teacher passing by took my class back to the room so they weren't standing there, crowding the scene. The girl woke up, immediately sat up, and asked what happened. To my relief and amazement, she showed no signs of any medical ailments besides her pale face.

We walked down to the nurse and she spoke clearly and was able to answer all questions accurately. Other than the large bump on the back of her head, she was fine. Thank goodness. With that, the empty feeling that took over my body as I watched her drop to the floor did not dissipate.

Going back to my class, I thanked the teacher that saved them from seeing the whole scene play out. We sat down and needed to talk as they were all extremely concerned and scared for their classmate. One little girl approached me quietly and told me what happened exactly before the incident. She told me that "Mary" was trying to make her face turn purple by holding her breath. She told "Mary" to stop, but she kept going.

Can you believe it? Here I was, going out of my mind considering the medical explanation for this incident, and she had been holding her breath. Holding her breath! Now that she was okay, I could have killed her. Not really, but come on!

The more I thought about, the more impressed I became. It sure takes some will power to hold your breath long enough to make yourself faint. Most people get too scared to get to that point. Will power, determination, perseverance, grit, shear stupidity, whatever you want to call it!

These are the days I would really love to come home to someone. To share, to vent, and to help me find the humor. In the spirit of the holiday, I am thankful that the technology we have today allows me to do this with Jeff even when he is not present. And of course, I am thankful that "Mary" came out of this all with a mere bump on the head!

Nimwit!

Some people have no common sense. I certainly am not going to sit here and lie. I, personally, don't have a ton of it, but I have some! I have more than the idiot I encountered today after work anyways.

A friend of mine, Erin, is engaged to be married next fall. And, rightfully so, she is excited about her life changing event. As any normal person that lives in the real world, she hears humming of the occasional failed marriage. It happens, we all know it. It is a part of our reality. However, today someone, this moronic, common sense lacking flomper took it to another level.

She opened the conversation by asking Erin how her wedding plans were going. Erin was beaming, gushing over the bridesmaid dresses, flowers, and her honeymoon destination. She had whatever the equivalent of a pregnant glow is. It is obvious, just by observing, that everything means so much to her.

The lady began reminiscing. I can't lie, I did too. I remember those days, planning our wedding, trying to make sure everything was just so. The great expectations you have for a day that goes by so quickly, but yes, means so much. Then, she took the ridiculous turn.

"I remember those days. They were so nice. Before he became an @$$#ole." Whoaaa lady! Watch it! You are talking to a fairly newly wed and a bride-to-be. Apparently the looks on our faces did not hinder her thought. For she plugged on, spilling horror stories of mistreatment, neglect, and most recently infidelity. She shared intense details of the infidelity. Much more than us outsiders needed to know, more than anyone but her psychiatrist needs to know, really!

With that, my friend's spirit was ruined. That glow she had turned into a defeated look. She expressed concern of hearing horror story after horror story, and about marriage after marriage falling apart. It's disheartening. It makes her fear for her future.

While there are those negative examples of marriage surrounding us, we can't overlook the strong ones. As Erin melted at the thought of what this absurd woman just spewed at us, I reminded her of the best examples I knew. Examples of marriages lasting 20, 30 plus years. People who truly deserve others admiration for their commitment to one another.

I am not nieve enough to think that Jeff and I deserve that accolade yet. However, I think we are certainly on our way. The sacrifices we are making for each other right now are beyond what many could even fathom. It's hard for me to fathom myself much of the time.

No matter what, it is always important remember the good times. The excitement of getting to know each other;

The feeling of first having that ring on your finger;

And knowing that you have committed to ever-lasting love.

Yes, Erin has a lot to look forward to. She can't let someone with a negative experience steal her thunder. Your life, and your marriage for that matter, is all about what you make of it. Others do not dictate what it is, what is acceptable, and how it works. You do!

Reunion

On this very special day, I ran into a video that warmed my heart. Exactly two years ago today, Shea officially became our puppy. I had read up on all the important things to consider when choosing your new pup from the litter. You want a puppy that is not over aggressive, but not the one who hangs out in the back and allows other to walk all over him. You may not want to chose the biggest pup in the litter, as they tend to be rather domineering. As one would imagine, it is quiet the opposite with the runt. They are the push over and come across as almost too reserved. Keeping all of this in mind, I chose Shea out of the other puppies based on two things. One, he had the best looking face; more handsome than the others by leaps and bounds. And even more importantly, after much research, I chose Shea because he was the first puppy that I held and I never wanted to put him down. In fact, I didn't. I held him the entire ride home from Lake Placid.

Having never had a pet before, of any kind, I had no idea how to take care of this thing. I would have been better off with a baby! Of course, Jeff was not home, so I was stuck with this cute little alien of a creature. When he pooped for the first time in the middle of the kitchen floor, I did what any first time pet owner would do. I wiped his butt! Who knew it is self-cleansing back there? Not me!

Over the past two years I have become more than accustomed to having a dog. I don't know what I would do without him anymore. He has become such an integral part of my life. While Jeff and I are apart, my heart breaks for the fact that Jeff doesn't have the joy of Shea in his life. And vise versa. Fear of Jeff becoming unfamiliar to Shea is something I am faced with on a daily basis. I try to say Jeff's name as often as possible. I try to show Shea Jeff on the computer. I let Shea hear Jeff's voice over the computer and phone. But, who really knows? I can't ask him if he remembers and get an answer.

Today, however, I think I found my answer. Watch this: http://www.break.com/index/dog-goes-nuts-when-soldier-comes-home.html. That man was missing from his dog's life for five months. It brings hope that it is possible for Shea to remember Jeff. Mind you, it will have been a little over two and a half months next time they meet up again. I'd love to see a greeting like that one!

It is definitely true that there is nothing like a boy and his dog!

Physicality

I saw Jeff today. Not in person, but on the computer screen. Sometimes his face surprises me. Not because it's different, just from not seeing it for so long. It immediately brightens whatever room I am in. I am so thankful for this source of connectivity with Jeff, yet, there is a huge part of me missing.

I haven't been in close physical proximity to my husband in three weeks now. That's a long time. A simple hug is not possible. I mean, a hug from my mother (I love you Mom), is just not the same. So, I started thinking of all the things I wish I could do if I was in physical proximity to Jeff, besides the obvious.

The following list consists of things I encourage you to do to that person who for you, luckily, is only in the other room. Try to do everything on this list. It will be fun. And, if not for the fun aspect, do it to make me jealous. Because, you can!

* I'd like to punch Jeff in the stomach repeatedly. It makes him unable to breath. It is so funny to see!

* I want to hold Jeff's hand. On our wedding day, we held hands for a good part of the day. I remember thinking how incredibly wonderful, and extremely rare that was.

* I'd like to flick his ear when he is not looking. I once did this at a concert while in the middle of a mosh pit and was thrown across the crowd. I have always wanted to try again!

* I'd like to give Jeff a haircut. A few months before we left, we bought clippers and I began cutting Jeff's hair about every two weeks. I'd be sure to do it better than ever, and maybe I'd even throw a hot towel around his neck!

* I'd try to give Jeff a piggy back ride. I always enjoy doing this and feel strong when I can make it over three steps.

* I'd slap Jeff's behind as hard as I can. Since I am usually on the receiving end of this, I will try to get him so good that my handprint last for days!

Really, I'd just like a hug. Maybe a little cuddle. When that gets old, these are the ways I'd like to broaden my horizons. Go try them out!

A Handsome Boy

Thinking solely about the weekend, I scheduled Shea's dog training session for this morning for a little after 10:00 a.m. I didn't want to be required to be up, showered, and dressed too early. That is never a fun thing on the weekend. This may not have been a great decision, seeing as 10:00 a.m. is a time that Shea is normally fast asleep in his crate.

When the doorbell rings, Shea goes nuts. Not only does he bark and crowd the door, his tail wags so strongly that his whole body shakes. As I hold onto his collar for dear life, he usually gets airborne as he tries to jump on the visitor. He is only looking to greet them with a lovely kiss, but most people don't understand that when a 75 pound animal is leaping at them. However, today, when the trainer arrived, Shea sat at her feet and solemnly leaned against her. When I told her I wanted to work on his greeting skills, she thought I was crazy!

His odd behavior continued. He was very subdued as he literally laid down and slept on the floor while I gave her a little background about Shea and we spoke about the expectations of our meeting. The crazy beast of a dog I was describing was peacefully sleeping on the floor beside my feet. It looked as though I was lying.

Inside the house, I wanted her to see Shea's food stealing ways. Whether it is a bagel, a piece of chicken, or a cookie, he gets his grimy paws up there and starts licking frantically. I put a treat on the counter and, of course, he politely waited, not even flinching at it. This has never happened before. The big guy was on his best behavior! I feel like I could have put a seven-ounce steak wrapped in bacon and smeared with peanut butter and he wouldn't have made a move. This type of behavior happens once every three years with Shea. And yes, Shea is only two!

We went outside so I could show her how Shea pulls when he is on a leash. No pulling. I wanted him to demonstrate how stubborn he can be and how he will just stop and lay down in the middle of the road. He followed by my side contently the entire time. Go figure, on this day, he was going to be the model citizen.

I decided to take matters into my own hands. I gave her then leash and walked away. Shea hates for me to leave. He started whining and then pulling. She got her first taste of the real Shea. Then she tried to walk in the opposite direction. Shea came through and flopped down on the ground like he had just died.  We talked about corrections for these things and I feel confident in what she preached.

Now, while I hate to admit it, I am the dog owner who thinks their dog is simply the best looking creature on the earth. I admit this although I do realize that I probably hold bias. To my shock, the trainer knelt down at one point and said, "he is so handsome." She repeated several times during her visit. I found it funny because I tell Shea all the time how extremely handsome he is. There is no other word to describe him! Just look at his modeling shots:

Believe me, it was hard to pick just three. I now feel, after meeting this trainer, that my notion that Shea is a handsome dog is justifiable. She actually took it to the point where she asked if Shea had been neutured in hopes of breeding him with her female lab. Luckily, for the possible owners of Shea's future offspring, he has already undergone the snip-snip.

Anyways, Shea's training session went very well. Even though he was on his best behavior, I learned some valuable skills that I will be able to practice with him. He is on the road to transforming from a good dog into a great dog! On the days that I don't feel like following through with Shea's training, I can remember Jeff. I want to bring him the best Shea possible. I will work so that Jeff will be pleased when they are reunited (even though I think the reunited part will please him enough!).

Fireflies

A friend was complaining about the fairly new song, "Fireflies." (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aI4JLa0hbUw) What a corny song, this person says. How is this a hit?

While I agree, it is somewhat corny, I have to admit I like the fact that it is a hit. It is a nice change of pace to hear children singing about fireflies and plant earth rather than drugs and ghetto booties. They like this whimsical little song.

Beyond the  Jonas Brother and a select few Miley Cyrus songs, I have had a hard time in the past few years finding appropriate songs for my students. No, I'm not a music teacher. I do like to play music in my classroom occasionally though, as it stimulates the mind. I also create a video for my students at the end of each school year. What kind of video is not set to music? A crappy one! And you better believe I am not creating any crappy videos.

In months past, I have heard young, elementary aged children, spew out some disturbing lyrics. I have a problem with a little girl asking a question and getting the response, "Shush girl, shut your lips. Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips!" Somewhat inappropriate! I have seen a kid wish someone good luck, followed by a wise guy responding, "I hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell." Then, of course, there is the little top hat wearing miniature Kid-Rock belting out, "We were smoking funny things, making love out by the lake to our favorite song." Doesn't seem fitting to me. I know these kids aren't living this out, not at this point anyways. I hope they never do.

So, I applaud Owl City for releasing this corny a$$ song. Good for you! It makes me laugh to hear kids singing, "cause I get a thousand hugs, from 10 million lightening bugs." It reminds me of some stand out songs that were out when I was younger. Good wholesome music. "Peaches come from a can, they were put there by a man, in a factory downtown." That one rings a bell immediately. Followed by "Kris Kross will make you jump, jump." Nice innocent songs.

Today though, I am looking to the radio for a purpose other than music. Thrilled that I can hear Jeff's game broadcast live on the radio, I could care less what songs are blasting through the speakers. To my dismay, some sort of technical difficulties have occurred and the broadcast has been cancelled. I guess I have to wait for Jeff's call. I hate that I have no idea what to expect. If only I could be there.

Festivus for the Rest of Us

One week until Thanksgiving, and oh so much to be thankful for. I was chatting about Thanksgiving plans with some co-workers, when one mentioned that the week before Thanksgiving her family actually practices the Festivus for the Rest of Us.

Know what that is? It is from Seinfeld. Frank Costanza, more recently known as Arthur Spooner, has a designated pole for this event. A pole wrapped in aluminum foil. Whoever holds the pole holds the power. Not just the power to speak. They hold the power to express to those gathered the ways that they have disappointed you in the past year.

If you ask me, this could get pretty ugly! But you're right, nobody asked me. On top of sharing these disappointments, you can talk about what those around you do to bother you. Awesome! My family should try this. Can you imagine all of the nasty things my 91, 89, 87, 86, and 82 year old grandmother and aunts would have to say? They do this on a regular basis. Put an aluminum foil covered pole in their hand and hell could freeze over.

"She uses too much clorox!"
"I'm always buying her things at the dollar store and she never pays me back!"
"You're not allergic, it's all in your head."
"You talk to loud!"
"You don't talk loud enough!"

It would be wondrous! I guess with a celebration of thanks, love, and caring the following week, it would be good to get everything out on the table.

Adding to the excitement of the Festuvus, there is a test of strength. What are some logical ways to test strength? Arm wrestling. Picking up heavy things. Doing push-ups and sit-ups. Holding your hand over a flame. Pulling 18-wheelers. To me, all of those acceptable strength decipherers. Not at the Festivus. At the Festivus, the oldest of the family, the patriarch/matriarch so to say, wrestles the baby of the family.

Now this could make for another exciting memory in my family. I imagine my 91 year old great aunt wobbling up to her 22 year old nephew. A nephew who spends hours fine-tuning his chiseled body. Yea, that would go well.

In honor of the Festivus that I will not be celebrating, due to the concern for the stability of my extended family, I would like to throw some grievances out there.

It bothers me that I won't be young forever.
It bothers me that gas prices are so high.
It bothers me that dogs aren't allowed a lot of places.
It bothers me that it was twice as warm in Cleveland this morning that it was here! (27 - 54)
It bothers me that Cleveland is not closer.
And, it bothers me that I have 4 more weeks till I can go to Cleveland.

Take a second, go ahead; be a sour puss. Be a whiner. Just today, it's the only time it's allowed! What grievances do you have?

Knock Please!

In the past few years, I think due to marriage, I have become very comfortable in my own skin. Not that I wasn't prior to marriage, but only to a certain extent. Living at home or in a dorm really detracted from walking around scantily clad. It's not that I spend my life behind closed doors like that, but if I need to go from the bathroom to the bedroom for example, I had nothing to worry about. It was just Jeff and I.

These habits I developed have been hard to break. Luckily, when I shower, my uncle is usually still in bed. But, it would help if I was more consistent shutting the door when changing. It happened the other night when I stayed up at my parent's house. Without thinking, I changed my shirt. My father walked by, head down, obviously quite uncomfortable.

This is shocking to me, as I flash back to years past. As a sophomore in college, I went with a friend to get my navel pierced. Really, is there a cooler thing? Ha. Knowing that my father would not be happy about it, he didn't speak to me for three days when I got the cartilage of my ear pierced, I hid it from him. This was harder than you may think.

I remember one basketball game, I dove after a ball and slid out of bounds right in front of where my parents were sitting. As I flew across the ground, my jersey got caught up, revealing my stomach. Somehow, in this moment of action, it crossed my mind to cover my naval ring. I threw my shirt down before anybody would have a chance to catch a glimpse at my stomach. And, I escaped that close call.

A summer or two later, my family was in Florida. I was laying out by the pool in my two piece, when my father came out poolside. So smoothly, I rolled over onto my stomach and held a casual conversation with him. Another sticky situation I escaped unscathed.

Then, came the most extreme case of protectiveness on my part. A case that exceeds all ridiculousness. I would have to say that my family went through a phase of complete and utter lack of privacy. I resented this. In those days, I was big on closing my door. That never seemed to stop anyone. People just walked in. So, getting into the shower one day, waiting for the water temperature to regulate, who busts through the door but my father? Yep, you got it. Standing there, without a single remnant of clothing on, for all to see. And what would any normal person do? Cover the important parts of course. That's not quite what I did. Without a single thought, my hands shot to my belly and covered up my naval ring, leaving the rest of me exposed. Of course, at first realization of what he had just done, my father bolted so quickly he had no chance to notice this.

It wasn't until six years after the initial piercing that my father found it. At that point I was off and married, and to be honest, there was nothing he could do or say about it. I still have the piercing although Jeff greatly dislikes it. I will someday soon part with it. I just feel as though my mid drift will look extremely bare without it. It is like decoration.

Pediculosis Capitis

There is pediculosis capitis in my school. Sounds bad, doesn't it? Well, it is! Pediculosis capitis is not spread from through coughing, sneezing, and germs. It's not passed from sharing drinks or food. It can pass without coming in contact with anybody. Because, you see, pediculosis capitis is the equivalent of what is commonly called head lice. 

Those nasty little critters can jump. They can jump as far as 3 feet. So, if you simply bend down near a person infested, you are at danger. Research shows that using an excessive amount of hairspray and/or gel helps protect from the lice getting into your hair. The hair spray acts like a shield. I imagine it somewhat like the shield Sonic the Hedgehog donned on the Sega Genesis. 

I figure I have a few options. I could wear a swim cap, a shower cap, or give myself an 80's over sprayed hairstyle. Neither would look too great, but would certainly protect me from those itchy little buggers. Although, provided my history, I may actually be immune to pediculosis capitis.

When I was fifteen, a very formidable year in a high schoolers life, my family visited from Florida. You may not know this, but in Florida, with the hot, moist air, head lice is very common. There is no stigma associated with getting it, because, well, everyone seems to get it at one point or another. My younger cousin, seven at the time, was just about my favorite house guest! She looked up to me, so she always wanted to wear my clothes. Of course, being the cool cousin that I was, and still am, I let her. I even scrunched my long, thin 15-year-old body into her 7-year-old clothes.

That's right, we traded clothes, hats and all. After my family went back to Florida, we got a frantic call from my aunt. My cousin had head lice. She had it while they were visiting. Head lice is something you absolutely cannot have in high school. I didn't know what to do. There was no way I could avoid it. I was wearing this kid's hat! And, she was wearing mine. She slept in my room and was attached at my hip.

My mother checked my head and didn't see any of those nasties in my hair. But, I felt itchy. So, to try to  ease my panic, we went and bought head lice shampoo. You have never felt so white trashy until you have to go to the drug store and buy head lice shampoo. Luckily, I never had a sign of it. The shampoo simply served as a security blanket.

With that, I am hoping I can luck out of the whole head lice scene unscathed, again. If Jeff were here, I would definitely go shake my hair on him for fun. In return, I'm pretty sure I would be body slammed. Ohhhh, how I miss him!

And The Season Begins

How could I miss it? I can't believe I missed it! Jeff's first game as assistant coach at Case Western Reserve. Done, played, won, and here I am seven hours away from the action.

I've never missed a first game for as long as I have known Jeff. From his playing days, to each season with his role as a coach. In fact, I remember quite vividly the game that started out the 2005-06 basketball season. Jeff was in his third season as assistant coach at Utica College and their tip-off tournament was across town at SUNY Utica. I had made the trip from Syracuse to watch the start of the season. Jeff had made a trip too. Unfortunately it was not to SUNY Utica. He was on the road watching one of his top recruits.

Since Jeff was going to miss his first game of the season, I was there to provide color commentary over the phone. I felt very uncomfortable at first. I was giving Jeff the bare minimum. "Justin made a shot." "Steal by Ray." I had a feeling the people sitting around me were listening. As the game went on and the guys started playing better, I began to put the color into commentary. "Justin passes from the right wing to Doug on the top of key. He fakes, he drives, it's good for two!" The people sitting around me began to enjoy my play by play and I could tell Jeff was too. (Were you?) I guess it was better than the boring minimalist one liners. Utica ended up winning the game, and went on to win many more that year, as they capped off their season with a visit to the Sweet 16. You better believe Jeff didn't miss any of those games.

I made it to Jeff's first games at Union College. The five minute walk over to the gym was not going to hold me back. I was there with bells on. Actually, I was there with a Union sweatshirt on and a camera. I like to capture these moments. Get firsts, middles, and ends on film. I will have to shoot for the middles and ends this season.

Since I knew I could not be there, I was thrilled that the game would be broadcasted over the internet. As my luck would have it, the link didn't work. I had to settle for live stats. It basically updates the score and each players stats as the game plays out. Not the most exciting way to watch, so to say, a basketball game. But, it was better than nothing.

With the Case win tonight, I am still heartbroken to have missed it. I made it to a first game of Jeff's that he didn't even make it to. And, somehow I missed this. At least I showed my support by wearing my Case t-shirt! It was the best I could do on a Monday night, 450 miles away.

Yankee Stadium

Today was the day. I woke up early, and with Jonathan and Lauren, headed to Yankee Stadium. As soon as we stepped off the train it was evident something special was going on here. People all around, jogging, stretching, and laughing along the walkways. Music was blaring from the stadium. To top it all off, it was a beautiful, sun-filled day in the Bronx.

My excitement grew as I walked up to the stadium and found the registration line. It faded in about 10 minutes after that same registration line had not moved one bit. I started to worry that I was going to miss my start time. Luckily, a take charge kind of lady, working as a security guard, allowed the early start times to skip over part of the line! I made it in just in time.

Donning my Mets shirt inside Yankee Stadium was interesting. Some people gave me dirty looks, a lot of people pointed, and several people laughed. One man in particular asked me how I could do it. How could I wear a Mets t-shirt to Yankee Stadium? He said he had seen me and another lady wearing a Red Sox shirt. At least I wasn't her!

Once the run started, it flew by! The concrete concourses made for a quick run. I was being careful to watch my step and not run into the mass crowd of people, but at the same time, I had a hard time taking my eyes off of the field.

The race went through Monument Park, passing the memories of Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, and the likes. Even for a non-Yankee fan like myself, that was pretty amazing! Striaght from there, onto the field! Two laps around the entire field. People were stopping to take photos, but not this girl. I am more of a get a good time type of person.

A cool addition to this was that they had camera men lining the field, putting us runners onto the jumbotron. Jon and Lauren said that everytime I neared the camera, they switched to another one. They must have saw the shirt and decided it wasn't in their best interest to put me on the screen. I only got on once. The last time I was on the jumbotron was at a Syracuse University basketball game, when Jeff and I miraculously won the "move of the game." We were escorted by Otto the Orange from the upper deck to court side seats.

Back to the run. From the field, we had to run up some 250 stairs and run laps around each level of the field. I flew up those stairs, but not as fast as I blazed down the ramps on my way to the finish line.

The run was an overall success. I can now think of no better way to see a baseball stadium. The inside, the outside, stepping foot on the field. There aren't very many opportunities to do that kind of thing. The only thing I found odd, the stadium, with no vendors or anything, had an overpowering smell of hotdogs and ketchup.