OBX

It's starting to feel like fall in the mornings. I'm not ready!!

Hal and I walked around the lake the other day and I saw the leaves turning already. And now with a hurricane almost upon us it certainly feels like summer is moving on, and the days of sun bathing will soon be days of leaf peeping. Not prepared for a change of season, I turn to memories of our vacation to the Outer Banks to provide comfort.

The ocean was full of beautiful, foamy waves

Kite flying for little boys

Kite flying for bigger boys

Sunrise at 6:24am on the beach

I manage to spot a self-proclaimed genius along the way

Oh to feel the sand in between my toes again..

I married a savage...Hal married one too

Is that a giant chunk of raw meat Hal's biting into?

No, it's just our way of celebrating National Watermelon Day.

Like hungry beasts we just kept taking bites of the watermelon, not even bothering to cut it up. That's how we roll.

Will you go seedless today?

Today is National Watermelon Day (who comes up with this stuff?) and we're celebrating in my house, primarily due to coincidence. Last night, Hal and I had a hankering for the thirst quenching fruit so we went out and got one - a 17 pounder that Hal "made" me carry throughout the supermarket. I of course was convinced its weight was equivalent to that of a small child, not an 8-month old. With my arms awkwardly holding this rotund fruit, I couldn't help but think of the line, "I carried a watermelon" ala Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing.

Go to http://youtu.be/OO21DjXFFMo for a clip that I'm sure is remembered by a plethora of women in my generation.

Happy Watermelon Day!

In a NY Minute

We took a vacation day last Thursday to walk around NYC and every single spot we hit was completely new to us, which gave me a sense of accomplishment by the end of our long day.

Our first stop: The High Line. The High Line elevated park begins at Gansevoort Street in the meatpacking district where the smell of sausages is ever present; by no means am I complaining here. The park is impressively renovated with flowering plants everywhere, flanking long concrete planks that seem to maintain the integrity of what was once the rail yard, along with selectively situated wooden benches and loungers that feel organic and inviting.

The walk was quite lovely with interesting and different scenic views along the way. Plus we got gelato and gelato makes everything a bit more pleasant.

Perhaps one day we’ll go back for the sunset.

After some Boylan’s Pure Sugar Cane Cola and dumplings from a food truck, we made our way to the subway and serendipitously found ourselves at a street corner staring at B&H. We were exuberant considering we’ve been trying to get to this store for two years. While Hal walked in awe of all the electronic eye candy around him, I was amused by all the bowls of actual candy everywhere. Their colorful cellophane wrappers instantly caught my eye and I eventually made a beeline to one of the bowls, hoping to remain inconspicuous as I plucked one out of the pile. Assuming Hal was behind me, I gleefully turned to show him my newfound treasure when I noticed two salespeople staring at me. Like a kid with her hand caught in the candy jar (literally) I looked guilty and apparently confused since one of them asked me if I needed help finding something (other than candy). I just told them I needed help finding my husband and quickly went on my way, red faced but triumphant.

There were no photos of my candy caper but the enjoyment I experienced drinking this cola made up for any embarrassment at B&H.

We subwayed (yes, I make up words) up to the northern most area of Central Park since neither of us had ever explored that part. This was of course after an inebriated man in the subway station introduced himself to each of us, chatted Hal up and then asked my husband for $1.85. I wanted to ask Mr. Buggy-eyes what he could possibly buy for a $1.85 in this city but figured I shouldn’t prolong this encounter. He eventually left us alone much to our relief and I immediately took out the hand sanitizer.

The upper part of Central Park is definitely a quieter area that sans all the camp kids is probably serene most of the time. Hal informed me along our walk that George Washington once stormed these hills back in the day. In flip flops with sore feet, I was hoping we weren’t about to reenact this moment. Fortunately we ended up leaving the park headed towards the Museum of the City of New York. But I have a feeling we’ll be going back one day and I’ll be required to wear sneakers.

We arrived at the museum to find that half of it (the good half probably) is under construction. We toured what we could anyway, our favorite part being the Stettheimer Dollhouse. Besides being visually intriguing with its detailed rooms and décor, the dollhouse features miniature works of art by famous painters of the day. How cool is that?! I kept trying to get a closer look at everything forgetting that it’s incased in glass until my nose hit the pane, leaving a smudge I’m sure; this happened multiple times.

We finished up our day in the city with a long-anticipated stop for some frozen hot chocolate. Yes, we went to Serendipty 3, famous for its cold and delectable elixir of cocoa, chocolate, milk and ice topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. It was worth the 45 minute respite outside the restaurant watching and commenting on passersby. And while we’ll probably never endure that kind of wait time again, we enjoyed every ounce of that sweet goodness.

This photo was taken with my iPhone hence the graininess. But I think you can easily see the bliss on Hal's face, which was unmatched by any other moment of the day.

So I lied. This is not a summary done in a NY minute. It certainly took more than a minute to write and it takes more than a minute to read unless you’re a turbo speed reader – props to you if you are. But really, who can do NY in a minute?

PS, did I mention that in addition to the frozen hot chocolate we shared a banana split? We couldn’t finish it even though I was almost certain that Hal had a bottomless capacity for ice cream.

unEDucated

I love watching the reruns of Sex and the City on TV, commercials and all. I go through this love-hate relationship with the main characters where I find myself more frustrated with them than I remember being the first time I watched these episodes, but it doesn't matter because ultimately I love them all. Being that they are shown on both E! and the Style network, on a good day I can lose three hours to this show and not even realize it. But what does Hal think of SATC? Who cares...actually, I believe his opinion is summed up in the following conversation.

Hal: You're watching this again?

To say his tone was exuberant is like saying my expression is ecstatic when he puts on another old X-files episode.

Jenn: Trey and Charlotte just got married and he's having some trouble in the bedroom. Say, what's the difference between ED (erectile dysfunction) and impotence?

Hal: How should I know?!?

Jenn: You're male. Doesn't every male educate themselves on this so you can look for signs?

Hal: NO!! Absolutely not.

Hal sat down and watched as Carrie waxed poetic on getting waxed (the Brazilian kind) and Samantha cozied up to Hugh Heffner. By the time Carrie made it back to NY from LA wearing a pink fanny pack, Hal had reached a saturation point and stepped away from the couch, the tv, and the wife so drawn into the brain candy. He pointed an accusing finger at the television just as the next episode was starting.

Hal: This, this is ED!

Hoppy Holiday

For Easter, Hal and I enjoyed a quiet night in, just the two of us. I made lasagna for two (yes, that’s possible and my new go-to recipe) accompanied by the cutest and most delicious little popovers.

24 baby popovers to be precise. Perfectly baked, with just the right eggy-ness to airy-ness ratio.

And we ate them all...




No butter needed.

A Handy Hubby

We’ve been looking at houses for sale and one that piqued our interest definitely needs some TLC, more than a facelift but less than full on demolition (we hope). For the most part, these “projects” do not intimidate my husband. He has an adequate collection of tools (a collection I’m sure he considers insufficient) and I know he relishes every opportunity to use them.

So as he went down the laundry list of items that potentially and would need to be addressed at this house, I considered how his fix-it skills have come in handy and saved us money over the past few years.

1. He installed an outlet in our bathroom. I know you must be thinking, what bathroom doesn’t come with an outlet? Now every time I plug in the hair dryer, I am that much more grateful for my husband.

2. He fixed our kitchen ceiling when it fell. No more needs to be said about this.

3. He fixed our washing machine when it stopped draining. That’s when we discovered that my tiny little socks could get stuck in some very important part of the machine. We also noted that I should avoid leaving bobby pins in my pockets.

4. Most recently, I arrived home to find someone had knocked our mailbox off the post. I automatically assumed we were going to have to replace the whole thing but thanks to a piece of wood, some kind of saw and a drill, Hal secured the box back to its rightful place in the world.

There have been other instances in which his handiness has been advantageous, and I know he likes getting his hands dirty once in a while. So when I heard him watching “how to” videos on home repair last night, I half expected to find him armed with a tool belt and ready to buy the house. We’re not there yet, but I have a good feeling he’ll be prepared for the undertaking when the time comes.

He has his own headlight. How much more prepared can he be?!

Bands of Spring

On such a dreary, wet day it's hard to picture spring as the season of blossoms, even though I know the rain does help facilitate this blossoming. April showers, May flowers...yada yada...I want sunshine!! Looking at these photos of Holland's tulips makes me yearn for spring even more but this also excites me that hopefully our own tulips will be blooming very soon!

These aerial shots are amazing!

photos via lemmemakeit

Baby (Poop) Talk. Not for the squeamish.

Thanks to another blog I read, Hal and I got on the topic of cloth diapers and whether they’re really a viable option. While the blogger was most concerned with how eco-friendly and cost-saving they are, Hal and I focused on one question and one question only: how do you clean them?

Hal: How do you clean cloth diapers?

Jenn: You put them in the wash, I think.

Hal: With the poop?! What do you do with the poop??

Jenn: I don't know. Put it in the wash with the diapers?

Hal: Ew, that’s disgusting. If you took a dump in your underwear would you just put them in the wash?

Figuring that was a rhetorical question, I Googled “how do you clean a cloth diaper”.

Most responses said put them in the wash, without any further detail other than advice to prevent pilling. One website did suggest using a pail of some sort where you would store the dirty diapers and then sprinkle them with baking soda until you’re ready to wash them. There is no diaper genie for cloth diapers apparently, other than the magic of baking soda, I guess.

As neither of us was pleased with this lack of explanation for what do with the poop, I then Googled, “How do you clean a cloth diaper with poop in it”, which led me to a webpage entitled How to clean poopy cloth diapers. BINGO!

There is something called a diaper spray whereby you hook up a spray nozzle next to your toilet and you can hose down the poop into the bowl before the diaper goes into the wash. While conceptually this makes sense, it sounds like it could get messy if your aim isn’t perfect or if, as Hal put it, the poop is like pudding.

Alternatively, you can use flushable liners, which act as a barrier between the poop and the cloth diaper. But depending on the consistency, this may not yield a clean diaper either.

Feeling grossed out, Hal and I weren’t convinced that cloth diapers were a clean enough option that wouldn’t leave us up to our elbows in baby doo, especially when we learned that within the first couple weeks, babies poop 12 times a day. 12 TIMES! Doesn’t that seem excessive for such a tiny, little person?! And while it did state that this frequency eventually decreases to 1-2 times a day, I was hoping that this miracle occurred by the third week; it’s more like the sixth month.

I'm all about saving money and being environmentally conscientious when possible. But with all this baby doo doo, cloth diapers seem like a baby don’t don’t.

By the way, we're not in the market for diapers be it cloth or disposable, but it did pique my interest when I saw you could potentially save thousands of dollars with the cloth ones. Never hurts to start thinking about these options. I do love options!

Adele

It’s not very often a song can bring me to tears without even having provoked personal memories, sad or happy. But there are the occasional songs that just reach inside and squeeze your heart for those few minutes it lasts. It’s the perfect symbiotic union of singer, lyrics and instrumental. It’s Adele’s, “Someone Like You”. The song manages to be tender and powerful at the same time. It’s mesmerizing to listen to, which is why I haven’t been able to stop yet.

Just Fine

A stressful week is upon me but I've adopted the encouraging and uplifting words of Mary J Blige to get me through it, along with incessantly playing her music in the background.



PS, I really want that black wrap number with the hat that she wears in the video. And I'd like 8 extra inches so I actually look good in it.

Love in Lockdown

Every once in a while I find myself getting caught up in those real life story documentaries. I am interested in the guy who’s part man, part tree, or the half ton teenager whose mother is a complete enabler. I’m not sure why I’m so fascinated by the hoarders and the addicts or the gang members. But admittedly, my guilty pleasure is the prison shows. I watch the women of cell block 6 with curiosity, hoping that Janice, the 19 year old mother of two, can stay off of meth. Or that Mama Jo, as she’s fondly referred to by her fellow inmates, can help the newbie, Carla, survive inside those cement walls.

And then I discovered, Lockdown: Indiana State Prison. MSNBC was showing a marathon this weekend and I was hooked, especially when I saw all the cats. Cats, you ask? Yes! Indiana State Prison has a cat adoption program whereby inmates can adopt cats from a local shelter and care for them on prison grounds, in their cells. It began when strays would come onto the property and the inmates would informally take care of them. The prison instituted the cat program upon realizing the positive effect these felines had on the prisoners, who became genuine and devoted caretakers. The prisoners that adopt the cats are truly invested in their furry companions and it’s actually quite touching to watch. And just for the record, I believe inmates apply to adopt a cat and they’re not provided to them willy-nilly.

Stone, an inmate takes his cat everywhere. Self described as a rebel rouser, the prisoner talked about how the cat keeps him in check because he now has something in his life that’s dependent on him. He strolls the grounds with this rather large cat resting over his shoulder and you can tell that he loves Jinkster.

When they featured Aaron, who was awaiting a new kitten from the latest round of adoptions, I too felt anxious and excited for him. He showed the cameras how he had prepared his cell for the new arrival with a litter box, handmade scratching posts, and a couple of cat beds, along with the book he was reading on cat care. Gaia, his new kitten arrived at just 15 weeks old and she was the most adorable, tiny ball of kitten fluff. She immediately took to him. As someone serving a 50+ year sentence for killing his parents when he was 16, he obviously has his good days and bad days. But the calm and contentment his new kitten brings to his life is pretty amazing.

Aaron even enrolled his kitten in a program where he takes Gaia to the rehabilitation ward to provide comfort and company to prisoners suffering from mental problems.

I was so excited when they showed adoption day and they brought 5 new kittens onto the property. I think I may have started to tear up at moments. Plus the cats were really cute, providing unconditional love in the one place that it’s bound to be nonexistent. Who knew that a prison show could be so heartwarming?

Tokens of Love

For Valentine's Day...

Hal got me roses

And I got him ice cream cake.

Neither will last very long but we’ll both thoroughly enjoy these tokens of love while we have them. It’s the little things we appreciate and it’s why he’s forever my Valentine.

PS, I put that heart on the cake myself.

Music's most important night

I did not watch the Grammy Awards but thanks to multiple websites I got the general gist. My takeaways…


There are 109 Grammy Awards
Really? There’s that much new music out there that warrants 109 awards? I think I live under a rock, a rock of quiet oblivion apparently.


What is the difference between:
Best Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocals versus Best Collaboration With Vocals

Btw, definition of collaboration: process where two or more people (like a duo or group?) work together to realize (perform) shared goals (vocals).

No difference. Just an excuse to add more awards to the list.


Now ain’t that some sh*t
If you missed it, you should check out Cee Lo’s performance. He’s not only morphing into Elton John but he hired the muppets to join him on stage. It’s incredibly entertaining simply because it’s so bizarre. And I believe Gwenyth Paltrow is wearing some serious Louboutins.


And the winner for best new artist is…

Jenn: Esperanza Spalding? Who is Esperanza Spalding?I don’t know who half of these artists are. But I know what a Beiber is. Do I get points for that?

Hal: In fact, you get points off for that.

Go figure…


Lady Gaga has hatched
So she showed up in an egg. I had to repeat that several times to Hal and provide visuals so he would believe and comprehend what I was stating. We now say “Gaga” in my house like it’s a bird calling, which elicits much laughter. Hey, if you can’t laugh with her, laugh at her.


Seriously, watch the Cee Lo performance.

A little perspective

After watching this clip, I just can't complain about shoveling anymore. Have your tissues handy!

I am warrior, hear me roar?

I spent an afternoon cleaning out old files and paperwork and came across a folder that contained the one piece of evidence I have that proves I played a team sport during my childhood. I am not and was never very athletic. Short legs don’t run very fast. Poor hand-eye coordination can’t hit or catch balls. And no upper body strength meant I couldn’t throw things very well or far. I did dance, drama and art. Activities that didn’t involve a field and were the least likely to cause injury. And while I did play youth soccer, I don’t recall enjoying any second of it.

That was probably because I was bad at it, coupled with the fact that I didn’t want to do it. But like most parents, mine wanted me to be well-rounded, active and involved in stuff that included other kids. To say soccer wasn’t a good fit is an understatement. I was so bad I once kicked the ball towards my team’s goal and then this girl yelled at me and then I started to cry...while still on the field. I’m telling you, this picture did not bring back great childhood memories that are now some 20 years old. But I tried it and stuck with it for a season, and luckily we all moved on. I swear, I’ve moved on.

Come this June, my athletic “prowess” will be put to the test in something called the WARRIOR DASH (this must be yelled out with the force of a Viking making its latest conquest). By its own admission on its website, “Warrior Dash is a mud-crawling, fire leaping, extreme run from hell”. Yay. It was brought to our attention by Hal’s paintball buddies who are all signed up. Normally, the men do their own thing with an unspoken “no girls allowed” rule. But since two significant others are joining the guys, I was invited and encouraged to participate in the fun.

When I heard that there was mud and fire involved, I adamantly shook my head in refusal. It’s not that I mind getting dirty but choosing to crawl through mud while running a 3.5 mile dash and ending the course with a final leap over fire sounds unappealing and hazardous to my 29 year old body. Whose idea was it to leave the fire until the end of the race? There’s also a wall to climb over, a cargo net to climb up and something with logs you have to jump or swim over. In an attempt to market the fun of this, Hal reinforced the team effort involved and how the gang sticks together through it all. He also said something about beer and warrior helmets given out to the participants but I was busy reminding Hal that my short stature may be a huge detriment to my ability to complete this course. Mostly, I didn’t want to be that girl that slowed everyone down by having a heart attack trying to crawl through the giant pipe.

In the end, my desire to get to know Hal’s paintball friends and experience the camaraderie was enough to sign up. And while I continued to show great trepidation, Hal reminded me that we survived an unexpected and strenuous rock scramble not because we were experienced hikers but because we were there to support one another through it. So come June, it really won’t be our athletic prowess that will be tested. It’ll be our ability to get each other through this in warrior-like fashion.

Let the warrior training begin!

So that's a McDreamy and a McSteamy

I don’t watch that much mainstream television. I have never seen an episode of Gossip Girl or Beverly Hills 90210 redux. Ask me to name one character on Friday Night Lights and I’d say, Jack, because isn’t there always a Jack or a Tom. Perhaps with these shows it’s more likely to be Grady and Callum.

And when I have caught on to the latest and greatest in TV land, it’s usually in the show’s 4th season. I feel like such a late bloomer that way. I think that’s when I started watching The West Wing, in its 4th season and of course had to promptly start from the beginning once I recognized its brilliance. When Hal and I were first dating, I would watch Lost with him but I believe it was already in its 5th season and I really never knew what was going on (I think even die hard fans were in a similar state of being). Trust me when I say he never appreciated my ceaseless line of questioning during the broadcast. I don’t know why. I was merely showing interest in smoke monsters and oversized time capsules.

Most recently, I caught an episode of a Grey’s Anatomy rerun. I attempted to watch the show once years ago when it was the talk at the water cooler but I thought the main character, Meredith Grey, always looked and sounded teary-eyed (like Neve Campbell on Party of Five) and I found that intolerable. I didn’t understand its huge following but having suddenly been bitten by the GA bug, I’m more willing to keep an open mind. I still can’t keep all the characters straight and it doesn’t help that the episode that hooked me was the season 6 finale, but with Netflix Instant Play I’m working on a Grey’s Anatomy retrospective. I didn’t feel the need to start from the beginning so I started from season 5. Random, I know. I don’t much care for Katherine Heigl so bypassing the previous 80+ episodes in which she appears is fine with me. And the show definitely has its share of annoying, over achieving and over acting characters. I think I’m starting to realize why I never got into this.

But there are some pretty well-written moments and it is nice to see just how much McDreamy has grown out of his awkward years, although he looks like he’s going to cry most of the time too. Is being a surgeon in Seattle really that emotionally burdening? As I get caught up, it’s like watching a prime time soap opera that helps pass the time while I’m on my elliptical. And while I’m curious to know what’s going on right now in season 7 with these characters, I have absolutely no idea what day and what time Grey’s Anatomy is on. I’m okay with that. I just wish there was a way to attach my iPhone to the Bowflex so it acts like a mini TV and then I wouldn't have to miss a minute of "my stories".

A depressing swan song

I watched Black Swan while I was home for the snow day. I had the video going on one side of my screen while I was answering emails from work on the other. I’m not sure what presented itself first, frustration with work or frustration with the movie, but three quarters of the way into the film I was officially in a bad mood.

It’s a Darren Aronofsky directed film, the man responsible for Requiem for a Dream, one of the most depressing movies I’ve ever seen, so I should have been more prepared for the onslaught of negative emotions that coursed through me while watching Black Swan.

Natalie Portman’s Nina Sayers appeared pathetically meek and timid for a good portion of the movie, which I guess can happen when you’re experiencing a downward spiral of paranoia and insanity. Her bone-thin body is not just that of a ballerina but it seems to personify just how emotionally fragile her character is. If that’s what they were going for, it was very effective. During many of the dance sequences in which Nina is trying to invoke her black swan, it almost sounds like she’s whimpering. Maybe that was me whimpering in my mind.

Much like Requiem, the film was dark with embittered characters and a loss of hope midway through that things would end well for any of them. You could tell Natalie Portman played the role exactly as the script and genre warranted. She convinced me she was losing her mind but I wasn’t exactly routing for her character to regain it; I think that was ultimately the issue for me and this film. Despite my feelings on the movie as a whole, they should just give Portman an Oscar already. She plays feeble and dysfunctional to perfection, and deserves some credit for morphing into a bird.

Even though I expressed bouts of irritation, I watched Black Swan to the end because good or bad, I resolved that I could never get that hour and forty minutes back so I might as well gain a sense of closure. And once I did, I quickly reminded myself that now I never have to watch it again.

Namaste

Like salmon, everyone says yoga is good for you. It helps strengthen your core and it’s aimed at breathing away stress from your body. The most dedicated yoga doers manage to stay fit and toned so I have to imagine it’s an effective form of exercise.

I have attempted it a couple of times, once as part of a high intensity exercise regimen and Yoga eXtreme nearly killed me. It was then that I decided I hate yoga. Hate may be too strong a word but I just can’t seem to get into it, and I choose to blame the yoga. I’ve tried to discover the appeal. I even own yoga-to-go cards so when I’m traveling I can keep up with my nonexistent routine. I don’t know where those are at present, and let’s face it lying in bed with my Kindle sounds much more appealing than holding warrior’s pose for five minutes while trying to exhale deeply.

How I feel about yoga is how Hal feels about salmon. He wants to like it. He knows he should eat it because of all the health benefits. But every time he tries it he quickly remembers just how much he loathes it. No amount of loathing, however, has kept him from trying it at least once a year.

So for 2011, I set a goal that I would try yoga. Thanks to Netflix, I took a stab at becoming one with my yoga self tonight while waiting for a foot of snow to fall. Set in an all white room, the video began with calming music and instructor with an accent that made it difficult to understand anything she said, but I made do.

The instructor first had us sit with our legs crossed and breathe. Sounds simple enough, right? Well the exercise involved pinching my nostrils shut and then letting each one go so I could inhale through the left and exhale through the right. But when your right nostril is all stuffed up, exhaling properly becomes a real challenge and results in a choking effect. Not a good start.

Then she had me lay on my back and swing my legs over my head, which is when I came to the conclusion that my legs are so short touching my toes to the floor was going to be an impossibility. I was not feeling very calm at this point, especially when I realized that there may be a leg-to-torso ratio necessary to fully engage in the yoga and I was not measuring up.

Finally I got in some position where I was supposed to resemble a crab, on my back, hips arched up, hands grabbing my ankles. I have to say, I wasn't even sure my body would let itself do this. The instructor told me to feel the blood flow down my back but that was overshadowed by the strain through my hips and thighs. And then the video stopped all of a sudden as it does with Netflix sometimes and I found myself stuck in crab pose. When it started to become painful, I detangled myself, got up and turned the video off.

When Hal asked me how it went I told him the exercises were too slow. He was apt to point out that it is yoga. I think by nature yoga is just not a good fit for me. I like something with a faster pace where I can break into a sweat and not from the stress of trying to contort my body into shapes it clearly rejects. I gave yoga another chance and now I think I’m done.

And so I bid it, Namaste.

1.1.11

The start of the New Year has already been marked by a few moments that are characteristically "us". They were a refreshing yet comforting way to begin 2011.

Our first walk of the New Year to the pier thanks to mild January temperatures.

Our first blazing fire

And our little mischievous kitty getting into trouble already

Happy New Year!