Calm during the storm

After work on Thursday night I headed to Wal-Mart for a pre-Irene trip to gather a few necessities. After fighting my way down each aisle and a short-lived power outage throughout the entire store, I finally headed home with a handful of hurricane essentials.

When I arrived home I immediately brought in the outdoor bistro set and filtered several pitchers of fresh water, just in case.  We were going to be just fine, I had never been so prepared for anything like this. Within our reach, no matter where we were in the apartment, I set up flashlights, candles and made sure we had plenty of charge on all our electronics.

My pre-Irene imagination was filled with ideas of Brian and I coloring, and playing cards in the candlelight but when our power went out at 9:30 on Saturday night, the actuality of what happened was far from what I had imagined. I panicked; I had never seen it so dark. While I get up to use the bathroom every night (at least twice) I suddenly found the walk to the bathroom impossible to navigate without scraping my shoulders on every corner.

Strong winds and heavy rain had me alarmed and I began forcing Brian and I to pack an emergency bag in case we had to leave. Extra sets of clothes, medicine, granola bars and bottled waters were quickly shoved in to one of our gym bags. Where would we go? I have no idea. I could not relax. It was hot, I was sweating and I was thinking morbid thoughts. As far as I was concerned, we had just enjoyed our last meal… Brian’s mom’s sauce…that’s what he always tells me he would want as his last meal.

My pre-Irene preparation had me convinced I would be able to stay calm during the storm. However, as winds were whipping around our building it finally registered that being the composed one in our apartment is not my role. It never will be, no matter how hard I try or no matter how bad I want to be that person. Brian is the one who continues to act cooly and logically when I am spinning in circles. He assured me several times in spoken words and in actions that everything would be alright. Even though I will never understand how he can remain so relaxed all the time, I am so grateful that he's always the calm before the storm, during the storm, and after the storm. 

Green thumb

Have I mentioned that Brian and I plant flowers on our balcony every year? For two years now we carefully selected the most brightly colored flowers, planted them and cared for them with love, and encouraged them to grow into all they could be. This year and last year our flowers died before August. I suppose we are missing our green thumb. R.I.P. balcony garden.

This year we planted beautiful cherry colored and white Impatiens.

After our vacation, this is what we returned to. Apparently this is what they meant when they said Impatiens don't do well in direct sun light. I guess the heat wave didn't help either. Oops. 

Last year we planted gorgeous Pansies! While I don't have a graphic picture to show you their demise, let's just say a bunch of determined bugs got to them and destroyed them. 

Looking forward to next year when hopefully our flowers last more than 2 months!

Back to work blues

Brian and I had the past week off from work and enjoyed the opportunity to tour the great Garden State. NJ truly has a lot to offer us and since we're saving for the wedding, spending time off close to home was an attractive option to both of us.

In the past week we...

...gambled at "America's Playground" otherwise known as Atlantic City. I found myself quite addicted to the Sex and the City slot machines. I could find the quickest route in the casino between all the machines which had Brian quite amused. Apparently though Brian and I do not look old enough to gamble since we were asked for ID an absurd amount of times.

...enjoyed the fabulous food and accommodations at the Borgata. I savored each bite of every single meal and could have set up camp in the shower there.

...relaxed on the beaches of Brigantine. Typically, I don't go to any beach but Belmar in NJ, but "Brig" as the locals call it, was very calm and peaceful.

...sweat our buns off on the beaches of Belmar. I had to get to Belmar at one point during our vacation! Mom and I headed there Thursday while Brian and my dad, his future father-in-law (so strange) fished with my uncle. On Friday my dad, Brian and I headed there for about 2 hours before I finally called it quits. The sand actually burned your feet so I decided an ice cold Arnold Palmer and "tropicali" cuisine at Fin's was a better option.

All in all I  had a fabulous week off with Brian by my side. Back to the grind tomorrow, my friend.

An excerpt from Committed

This afternoon on the beach, I read a single paragraph in Elizabeth Gilbert's novel Committed that truly hit me. It was so good it made me stop reading to pass the book on to Brian so he could read it too.


"The poet Jack Gilbert (no relation, sadly for me) wrote that marriage is what happens 'between the memorable.' He said that we often look back on our marriages years later, perhaps after one spouse has died, and all we can recall are 'the vacations, and emergencies' --the high points and the low points. The rest of it blends into a blurry sort of daily sameness. But it is that very blurred sameness, the poet argues, that comprises marriage. Marriage is those two thousand indistinguishable conversations, chatted over two thousand indistinguishable breakfasts, where intimacy turns like a slow wheel. How do you measure the worth of becoming that familiar to somebody--so utterly well known and so thoroughly ever-present that you become almost an invisible necessity, like air?"

To Dad, Love Petie

Tonight, Brian and I went swimming at the gym and the smell of chlorine forced me to shower immediately after I arrived home. After hopping out, I felt a bit challenged on what to do with my hair since I knew I’d be heading to bed in just a few hours. Lately it’s been so dry and knotty so I thought a post-shower braid might be nice.

Looking in the mirror, I instantly thought of my dad who was in charge of maintaining my long mane in my younger days. Even though my mom’s a hairdresser, Dad was always so much gentler with the brush and I think he enjoyed the time together just him and me.

Time spent together as father and daughter is far and few between these days as both responsibilities and the family grow. With Father’s Day just a few days away I’m looking forward to celebrating the man who mastered not only gently brushing my hair but who made growing up so special.

A few other things that make my Dad one-of-a-kind:

He passed on to me the lifelong habit of eating cookies for breakfast.

He taught my sister and me respect at a young age.

He took on coaching a sport he knew nothing about so I could play soccer.

He taught me how to strike up a conversation with just about anyone.

He’s made me feel like an American Idol since the moment I sang into a kitchen spoon.

He took us girls fishing and crabbing with the boys.

He makes a mean cold-cut bread and taught me the skill when I was old enough to start caring how to cook.

He showed me the art of a good nap.

He never fails to say how proud he is of any of us.

He showed us with hard work, comes great rewards.

He showed Michelle and me how fun cleaning a pool cover can be.

He never failed to get a kick out of how I could parallel park my Power Wheels.

He remained patient while teaching me how to drive even though he had to pull up the e-break to stop us from crashing.

He worked 7-days a week to put us through college. He’s always wanting more for us.

It’s cliché but I could go on and on. Thanks Daddy for being 1 in a million.

Back to life, back to reality

This past weekend was one in which I experienced the full spectrum of highs and lows during the wedding planning process. After becoming a bit overwhelmed (okay very overwhelmed) at the venue on Saturday morning, arguing with those I love and shedding enough tears to fill the Delaware River, Sunday finally brought me back to reality.

The wedding is not important. This is something I have always believed but now I have to actually put that belief into practice and it's not easy. It's simple, especially for me, to become buried with stress when there is a multitude of things to think about. Instead of focusing on what truly matters that day I've been consumed with thoughts of how our day will measure up to the ones on TV or even worse those of our friends who we'll be attending in the months leading up to our special day. What matters most is what happened on Sunday at our engagement party. What this special part of our lives is really all about is sharing our love with the ones we love. As Brian's sister said, if the building is crumbling down around us on our wedding day, we'll still be standing across from each other becoming husband and wife with our closest family and friends by our sides, and I like that.

Fun is in the eye of the beholder

After watching a “lady” urinate down her leg three times last summer during a concert of one of our favorite artists, Brian and I banned outdoor performances until we could recover. With our local country radio station giving away free tickets to a show featuring several artists, we thought it might be a good idea to give it another chance.

Considering the wholesome-as-apple-pie image of country music, we had assumed it would produce a more mature audience. In the very least, we anticipated that the crowd would be able to, if nothing else, control their bladders until they made it to the bathroom. This is an assumption we made incorrectly. After sitting on the highway, waiting to exit for over an hour, a girl erupted from the car in front of us and proceeded to pull down her pants and, well, you can guess what followed.

Eventually, we came within blocks of the amphitheater and I guess you can say the crowd surprised us a bit. Trusting our intuition, we quickly noticed they were both younger and drunker than last year and we made a prompt decision to turn around. It wasn’t long before we were getting texts that fights were breaking out on the lawn area of the venue. Man, did we dodge a bullet.

Our decision to cross the bridge and hit Philly for cheese steaks instead of the concert sparked a conversation between Brian and me about what is and is not fun. While we sometimes get the feeling that others may look at us as boring or unexciting because we’d rather read a good book on the beach than hit up a bar is A-OK with us. After all, fun, like beauty, is all in the eye of the beholder. I’d pick a Geno’s date, just the two of us any day over being surrounded by thousands of people whose idea of a good time means using the lawn as a toilet.