I can take a hint

I feel a little silly admitting this out loud, but for a sizeable chunk of November I was hit with crazy baby fever. I'm not sure what if it was some sort of hive mind response to seemingly everyone I know having just had a baby or just found out that they're expecting (I swear, there is some sort of baby announcement on my facebook wall everyday, not to mention the people I blog stalk), or if I actually do have some sort of crazy baby, hungry biological clock deal, but oh I wanted one so bad. I was looking at all the adorable nursery things, and thinking about names and cute wittle baby smiles. Even practical Genavee kind of got into the game, and started looking at birth plans, new apartments and what not. It was pretty bad, but I got over it. We have a nice plan that calls for kids in 4-5 years when we have some sort of stability  - little things like jobs and maybe even living in a place with more than one room. Big dreams, I know. But its a good plan for us, and I'm sticking with it.

Now my period is about two weeks late. I'm 99.5% sure that this is nothing. I've peed on a stick and gotten negative results, we are very responsible birth control users, all in all I can't fathom how I could possibly be pregnant. But just the very though of it being possible sends ice cold shivers of fear running down my spine. There is no way we can afford a baby. Our apartment is far to small. My health insurance is a joke. We don't even have a good network of support here in DC that could help us limp along. Not to mention how hard having a baby now would make finishing school, let alone finding a job and paying down student loans. I always know these things. But during these times of fear, I really really know. I'm choosing to interprete this little punctuality problem as the universes way of forcibly reminding me how catastrophic a baby would be right now. I get it Universe - right now baby=bad. Message received. Now if you would be so kind as to give me some peace of mind, I'd greatly appreciate it.

Snow (or how my Utah heart began to thaw)

This morning I woke up, brushed me teeth, turned on my computer and was greeted by my weather bug chirping about snowfall in the DC area. I wasn't quite ready to accept the icon, so I stubbornly kept the blinds drawn in a desperate attempt to stave off the harsh chill of reality. Alas, Zach had no such bashfullness. Because his inner child was raised in Alaska, Zach was bouncing around like a puppy, pulling open the blinds in a giddy fervor and revealing the ice cold flakes of evil coating my once temperate and pleasant home. 


Can you tell that snow is not my most favorite of weather? It didn't used to always be this way. In my Oregon childhood snow was a miraculous substance that blanketed in the world in loveliness and winter cheer, and most importantly of all brought with the miracle of school cancellation. But four miserable years of trudging about in Utah winters managed to beat most of my snow spirit out of me. During those perpetually snow and sludge coated months I began to bitterly refer to snow as the hate of the world and would generally had a bah-humbugesque attitude.  


But, even with my bitterness, it seemed worth snapping a photo or two through my window, so as to have evidence of my discontent.

Curiously enough it was actually kind of fun having an excuse to use my camera. And avoiding studying did seem like a solid plan. So I figured I may as well through a coat and boots on over my oh so chic yoga pants and giant shirt ensemble, meander down stairs and take a few shots. Hey, I'll take any excuse to wear my awesome whale boots.

 

To my great surprise it was actually kind of pretty outside. With the snow icing the previously bare and depressing trees and lending a touch of softness to the old brick buildings, Soft, white flakes gently floated down, leaving little kisses on my nose. In spite of myself, there was something nice about the scene. 

I ventured out a little ways, took a few silly shots of myself in the classic outstretched arm method. I may have started to skip and twirl a little bit amidst the flurry.

Catching sight of the church steeple towards the end of the block, I made my way down towards the lot of Christmas trees on its lawn, took a bit of a detour over to the Catholic church across the street, and other wise enjoyed wandering around for a bit.

 

For the bored and the curious, I have more pictures on facebook. All in all, I'm not sure if it's just the lack of Utah-ness, my love of the whale boots or if it really was pretty outside, but for the first time in a while I really enjoyed the snow. It remains to be seen wheteher this will last, especially as teh winter wears on, but for today it was a pleasant surprise.

Thanksgiving - breaking free edition

I had a hard time getting excited about Thanksgiving this year. Last year, Thanksgiving was kind of a big deal. It was our first married Thanksgiving, and  it was going to be a perfect, punch-drunk love affair to be seered into our memories in all its fuzzy, warm glory - so help me. We anxiously tried to find the best recipes ever. We pillaged the grocery store like kids run a muck in a Willy Wonka paradise. We carefully brined the bird and spent all Thanksgiving day making sure we had every single traditional dish lovingly set out on our itsy bitsy coffee/dining/everything else table. We barely had room for our plates. A week later we were still trying to slog our way through the massive amounts of leftovers. I know that everyone has leftovers for Thanksgiving, but two people trying to make their way through a meal that could easily have fed 6 people for a few days is a special experience. We spent the rest of the weekend blissfully enjoying our last free weekend until finals, hitting the town and fighting our way through museums, cuddling up to watch Christmas movies and otherwise basking in the holiday spirit.

This year I was just a big pile of meh. First of all, neither of us really even like most Thanksgiving foods. Turkey is usually kind of dry and flavorless, and I've yet to find a good way to use the leftovers. Turkey enchiladas just don't quite cut it. I do love a good sausage stuffing, but not a 9x13 pan full of it. Zach loves cranberries only slightly less than he loves me, but he makes a new helping of cranberries every other day during the holiday season, so there is no danger of him being deprived. Pumpkin pie and rolls are good. Allright, I suppose I'm on decent terms with many staples, just not for 2 weeks. And I don't really want to cook any of it.


Fortunately, I remembered something very important. There are only two of us. We have no children that will be scarred by memories of a non-traditional Thanksgiving. We can do whatever we want. WHATEVER. We could have nothing but pie. Or no pie at all. Definetley no turkey. I don't really care what the puritans did. As a matter of fact, I don't even like the mostly because I would definetley of been killed as a witch - which frankly would have come as a bit of a relief. I see no reason to eat turkey on the account of people who would have hung me.



Anyway's I was emboldened by my new found freedom to do whatever we want. Apparently what we wanted was lamb. And given my love of puns, Silence of the Leg O' Lamb became the recipe of choice. With a side of rolls, salad, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. Because we wantes those too, dangit. A quick trip to the grocery store, and we had the most beautiful lamb ever.



I spent about 5 minutes making the marinade, 5 more rolling the thing up. Maybe another 5 minutes checking the roast, and tossing in the frozen rolls. 5 more mixing up the canned pumpkin and other ingredients and pouring it into the premade pie shell. Zach did the potatoes, and the salad kind of got forgoten about, because I don't have to eat vegetables if I don't want too. 20 minutes prep time tops. 

Admittedly, not the prettiest of meals. Not even a tablecloth, let alone a centerpiece, napkin rings (or napkins for that matter). But that lamb? Amazing. Stupendous. Juicy and tender and perfect. My mouth has never been happier. No stress, great food - I'll call that a great Thanksgiving. I love family and hope we can spend Thanksgiving with them sometime, and there is something comforting about traditions - even if Turkey does kind of suck. But this year a quiet, delicious, destressful Thanksgiving was just what I needed. And I'm grateful for that - and so much more. 

Happy Holidays you guys - I hope you can find what you really need and what makes you happy, no matter what that may be.

If I go missing, check the stairs for evidence

My law school isn't that big, so I usually try to take the stairs. I'd like to claim that it's because I'm oh-so healthy and seek opportunities for exercise everywhere I go, but it really has much more to do with my impatience for the elevators and my hatred of being crammed in like a sardine. The stairs are usually nice and isolated, which is usually a welcome thing. I suppose I can't blame most people for avoiding the stairs - they are a little creepy. They have this unnatural florescent glow bouncing around the dank cinder blocks, and there seems to be no rhyme or reason as to the distance between the floors, which combined with the way the stairs sort of zig and zag around can be a little disconcerting. You just go up flight after flight, hoping a doorway will appear and allow you to escape. But when its just me and my nice quiet stairs that doesn't really bother me.

You see, in addition to all of the stairwells other charms, it also has a horrible echo. So whenever another student starts to clomp down the stairs at a brisk pace, I hear this ominous sound of footsteps racing down the stairs, just seconds away from overtaking me.I know rationally its just another student in a bit of a hurry. But to me it sounds like a serial killer is right behind me and if I do not book it I will meet a horrific demise involving chainsaws and other very bad, no good things.


On the plus side, every time that happens I'm glad that I haven't joined the stilleto crowd yet, as everyone knows what happens to women in high heels in horror movie scenerios. And I'm sure the extra sprinting is good for me. I'm just a little scared that on a particularly stressful day that extra bit of terror may push me over the edge. that or I'll develop a sense of complacancy, and thats when it will all go down. Come to think of it, I'm somewhat surprised that more law students don't snap into scary bad criminals. You get this many type A, overstressed people in a constant state of high pressure and then teach them all the ins and outs of the criminal justice system, and well, thats just a breeding ground for an American psycho scenerio. Just like PhD programs breed super villains. Maybe I should just take the elevator.

Leaves that are green

I woke up in my usual morning haze, stumbled through my morning routine and sloughed out to the bus stop. As is usual I had my ipod shuffling away, but not really paying attention. Then, "The Leaves that are Green" by Simon and Garfunkel came up. A pretty song, but nothing I've really though much of. As it played a gentle wind started up, and I found myself surrounded by a soft shower of autumn leaves drifting away from the trees. I just listened, really listened, and watched and just was. For a brief moment I felt the song and just floated away on its harmonies and the soft wind.

It's cheesy I know, but sometimes it feels like little almost transcendent moments like these are what make things ok, just for a little bit.

Cannibalism is fiscally responsible, but creepy

Question - How much do normal people spend on food? Because for the first time I'm seeing how much we spend, and holy cow.

For most of our (admittedly short) married life, Zach and I just never bothered to do any sort of finance merging. We each had our own bank accounts and debit cards and what not. We still though of all of that money as collectively ours, so it wasn't really a big deal who paid for what, we just had no way of really keeping track of what the other person was doing. Overall it worked fine (ignorance is bliss). Sure, we would occasionally come this close to missing the rent deadline because we each thought the other person had taken care of it. We're responsible like that. But hey, everything always got taken care of, so I just assumed that the system worked.

Recently we decided to get a joint Costco American Express card, mostly because we were seduced by the grand promises of 1% cash back, but also because we figured it would just be less hassle and good for budgeting and unity and it just seems like one of those things married people do. We're still not sure how this whole married grownups thing is supposed to work, so we largely just try to copy others who seem like they have things figured out. It seems like a sound strategy.

Anyways. So we now have a joint card and can actually see what each of us is spending. Aside from severly cutting down on my internet purchasing (when Zach would ask how much my pretty new things cost, I was in the habit of going on about how they were marked down x%, and I got such a good deal, and never actually say how much they cost. That is less effective now that he can actually look at the card statement.)  this also has the nasty side effect of being able to actually see how much we spend on food and other so-called essentials. I knew we spent a decent amount, but since I only saw what went on my card, it didn't seem to outrageous. I think I had managed to convince myself that I paid for things much more often than I actually did. 

Because I was looking at the balance today and I just can't figure out how we spent over $500 on groceries in the past month. I suppose we did eat out once or twice, but no place expensive. And that does include a big Costco trip, and some prescriptions, and we've run out of a few more things that usual this past month. But still. Is this normal? We are in DC, which is expensive. And we do like to eat things like fruits and other fresh, expensive things. And Whole Foods is much closer than other grocery stores, and so much nicer...I know its more expensive but I had no idea it was this much. I don't feel like we eat anything amazing. Lots of potato based dishes and rice and beans and the like. Not really much meat, just chicken breasts from Costco and some sausage from time to time. What are we doing wrong? This just doesn't seem right!

Inconceivable

When I was at BYU one of my favorite professors was Dr. Christensen.* The first class I took from him was this awesome freshman seminar on Comparative politics, where are only assignment was to read the Economist, and class consisted of solely of us asking him whatever questions we wanted. Needless to say, this guy is crazy smart. The second class was a giant monstrosity of class on political science research and writing. Incredibly dull. Or at least it would have been if Christensen didn't have a near endless supply of hilarious stories.** Things like how on his honeymoon, his wife told him "Dear, it would be better if you stopped giggling" and other fun little tidbits. Add that to endless supply of witty comments, sarcasm and other such awesomeness and Christensen made that class slightly more than bearable. However, when he got excited, which was frequent, he would start to talk in a really fast, high pitched voice. Combine that with the fact that he was a little on the shorter side of things, and well there was more than a passing resemblance to this guy:

So, when he passed out cards asking for our comments on his teaching in the middle of the semester, under the section asking for things that we thought he could improve upon, I noted that I would appreciate it if he would say inconceivable more frequently.

The next week at the end of class he started to discuss the comments he had received. Including how he was so offended that someone would compare him to the Princess Bride guy, how that was a bad person, and not flattering, and so on and so forth. I'm pretty sure he was looking at me the whole time he was speaking. I felt about two inches tall, and was convinced he knew that I was the one who had written that comment. But you guys? During that whole tirade he starte dto get excited, and speaking all fast and high pitched like. Towards the end he said that the comment was just inconceivable to him. He sounded just like Vizzini, and I felt justified. It was a good day.




*At one point he said that I was just like him, only liberal, young and female. So my liking him so much may have just been a case of supreme narcissism.

**Also at one point he called on my as I was dozing off. I had no idea what the question he had asked me was, let alone the answer. being a Church school I made a wild guess and said Jesus. I still have no idea what that class was about, but that was somehow the right answer. This has nothing to do with anything - I just like this story.