The Merry Christmas 2010!

The Little Things.

I write hundreds (literally) of posts that I never publish. In fact I am hesitating now because I know that I have written about this before, but I fail to remember if I posted it or not. I don't know what it is but I sit down to write about this extravagant, or horrible, or noteworthy event from the day and when I write it all out, the words don't seem to come and so it's importance just seems to dwindle.

We have assigned parking spots at school, I'm number #74. To my left is a jean-blue ginormous Toyota Tacoma. Also, it never pulls in all the way so when I back out of my parking spot at the end of the day, it is nearly impossible to see around it. So last week, while concentrating so hard to see around the back of this truck, I failed to look right and was nearly hit by another vehicle backing out of their spot. My first reaction was OOOOH @#$%#!! My second was "I have to go home and blog about it." So a walked in the door, dropped all my things and immediately picked up my computer to blog about it. So I wrote it all out, and suddenly I had this overwhelming feeling of WHY DOES THIS MATTER! It was my fault after all - you do need to look in BOTH directions when you are backing up a car. And then I deleted my entire post one letter at a time, 2nd grade style by taking my pointer finger to the backspace key. I let the blank page sit there, made myself a soft pretzel for snack, and then turned on Oprah.

Even now I'm forgetting why I wanted to tell that story. But at the end of the day, it just doesn't seem to matter. There are more important things to think about, do, and invest my time in. I want to write the important things, remember the important things, post the things that shape my life. But the words seem to come easier when I have a "near death experience" or when the Gap doesn't have the right size for a Christmas gift I wanted to give. In the end those are the little things though, the things that can get deleted. The important stuff stays closer to my heart, and is harder to pour out on "paper". When I started this blog it was my intent to share those things, I didn't expect it to be so difficult. Even now I want to delete this but I'll make you read it instead...

The Holiday Season.

That's right, I said it. I know you didn't want me too but I did it any way. But it's true it is! And this is how I know how...

Outside my own front door the town of Ipswich (which has connections to Santa Claus himself) hung these beautiful holiday signs. And if I were Martha Stewart you would also see this outside my front door:

It would probably have a red ribbon though... Happy Holidays!

The Backstreet Boys.

OhMG! My heart is beating so fast! Call me a freak but the Backstreet Boys are singing on Oprah. AAaaaanndd I'm flipping out. I wish I still had proof of my pre-teen love - a mass collection of TeenBeat magazine and collages hanging in my locker.


Brian Littrell was the first person I ever had feelings for. Closely followed by Andrew Keegan from 7th Heaven and 10 Things I Hate About You. And who didn't love JTT?! Okay I wasn't that crazy, I promise. Plus you can't make fun - we all had teenage celebrity crushes right? Right?! Who was yours?

PS - Isn't he dreamy!?

The Good Stuff

Doesn't the sun shine just a little brighter on some days than others? It's not that nothing could go wrong, but rather that the good things just seem a little better. So here's the good stuff:

When I was working at my previous job, I drove to infinity and beyond. Okay, maybe not infinity but at least the "north shore" and beyond the North Shore being from Salisbury to Beverly to Westford. I seriously filled my gas tank once every 5 to 6 days. Ready for the good news? The last time that I fill my tank was Wednesday October 20th. 12 days later I still have a half a tank left. This is glorious! I do not live at the gas station anymore.

While Big was removing a tree stand used for hunting from the woods, a branch attacked his eye and scratched his cornea. This is not the good news. In fact this story doesn't contain any good news besides for the fact that the eye is healing quite nicely. Anyway, the scratched cornea meant that I got to play nurse all weekend. It made me feel really good to take care of my hubby :) Vomit if you want but I loved the feeling of looking after him and making sure that he had everything he needed to feel better as fast as possible.

There is one thing better than a Mounds bar which is an Almond Joy. Just add an almond and it changes the entire flavor. Not to mention it has the word joy in its name. Thank goodness for bingeing on leftover Halloween candy.

A clean living room is maybe the best feeling ever. (Okay, second to bingeing on Almond Joy in a clean living room). I love Big so much that he shall have a spotless living room by the time he gets home from his rehearsal. I would say that I am lazy 90% of the time but I simply thrive for that 10% where I want to nothing but clean clean clean.

I figured it out, this is the good stuff: Bingeing on almond joys and drinking white zinfandel in a clean living room while watching The Real Housewives. Thank you blog, I figured out the key to happiness.

The @#$%#.

Okay - ready for this? I hope so because I'm about to vent hardcore. That is right - did say hardcore. I used to work for a company that offered like the crappiest healthcare plan ever, okay it's not that it was crappy it's just that you had to pay for like 90% of it by yourself. So Big & I didn't do that. We opted for the cheaper Commonwealth Choice plan. And while it sucked really badly paying out of pocket, it was somewhat better saving money. Anyway I have a new job! I'm a public school employee with BlueCross/BlueShield health insurance. YAY! But that also meant that I had to cancel our old insurance this afternoon. So I called and sat on hold for maybe 30 minutes and then I got a hold of Omar. I do not lie, and he is certainly not important enough for an alias. His name was Omar. I gave Omar my information and he was like "Uhhhh are you calling for Commonwealth Choice or Commonwealth Care?"

Okay Omar I don't know the difference! Okay no don't say that... oh there it is! My bill says Commonwealth Choice. "I'm calling for Commonwealth Choice" I reply.

"Well you called Commonwealth Care"

No I F-ing did not Omar! I called 1-877-MA-ENROLL. "Oh, than could you connect me to the right department?"

"Uh yeah... you need to talk to Commonwealth Care?"

Uuuuuhhhh...... yeah!??!?! "Yes, I do"

"Okay Please hold"

Okay Omar! Not like I have a choice! Sooooo 10 minutes later a nice little woman gets on the phone. She doesn't have a name, but she asks me like 4 times for my pin number. So I gave her my account number since I didn't have a pin number. But that didn't work so she responds:

"Are you calling for a conference call?"

Nooooo... how many people do I have to talk to cancel this freaking thing?! I mean:
"No. Look I've been on the phone for 45 minutes now just trying to cancel my health care subscription so if you can't help me than please connect me to the right person to talk too."

"I'm sorry ma'am. I can't help you, I am a Verizon representative."

What the hell Omar! You connected me to Verizon when I'm trying to cancel my health insurance. If I felt like being annoyed, frustrated and spending my afternoon on hold, I could have called Verizon myself.

That's all. I'm not over it yet.... in fact this is making me more angry. Trivia night... maybe I'll take it out there...

The Revision.

Pardon me. I was slightly intoxicated last post and this is what it should really look like.

When you google image kikikins, this is what you get:



But this is what kikikins means to me:

The Kikikins.

When you google image kikikins, this is what you get:



But this is what kikikins means to me:

The Apple and Cranberry Crisp.

Look what I just made!!!

Apple & Cranberry Crisp! I haven't tried it yet, but doesn't it just look delectable!? It's super easy, check out the recipe here. Although if you try it yourself, the recipe is in two pieces so make sure you click the link for "crisp topping" under the ingredients.

As a side note, I was just told that it smells like God in my apartment. Don't you want to try it now?

The Best Friday Ever.

A friend of mine started something on her blog that I would like to follow suit on. Go ahead, call me a copy cat but I love the idea. It's called the Friday Five. You can follow hers here, thanks Sara!

1. New job new job I have a new job! I start Monday as a teacher's aide in the Special Ed. classroom in Georgetown Middle School. I cannot possibly begin to express how excited I am! I have wanted to work in a school for as long as I can remember, okay well or at least since high school ish.

2. This means that today was my last day of my previous job. So long BEACON! How I will not miss driving 1.5 hours to work only to find that no one is home. And while they are cute, I will not miss this:

Yeah yeah... just wait for the sound effects...

3. Mom and Dad are coming this weekend! I love my family soooo much! My brother moved to Boston last spring at it has been wonderful being so close to him. Not to mention that every time they come up my Dad gets us all tickets to who ever is in town that weekend. Last time we saw James Taylor and tomorrow we see the GREAT

ELTON JOHN! And some of his friends.

4. Apples Apples Apples. Applesauce. Apple crisp. cobbler. pie. etc. Fall is in full swing and it is fabulous. Despite the rain, it's a beautiful thing living in New England in October!

5. No fall is complete without the proper footwear! I absolutely love my new brown suede boots! Which looks something like this but we're hardly this expensive, nothing better than a good deal and Gap Outlet!

Have a great weekend everybody! See you monday on my first day of school!

The June.

June is my second favorite month after October. Nothing beats that very first day of shorts and a tank top and a trip to the beach. And beer on the porch at 7:00 at night when the sun is just starting to think about setting. June is my birthday month. It's ice cream cake with chocolatey crumble goo.. mmmmm. It's watermelon that got dropped in the sand and annihilated by psycho seagulls. It's bare feet and splinters and having to pull them out with tweezers. June means iced hazelnut coffee that sweats so much that you could make a whole other drink from it's condensation. It's frisbees and beach balls and sunglasses!!!

Umm... duh. I know it's October which is my favorite month. But one of my dearest blog reader's goes by the nickname June which stands for junior. His first name is really Jay. Jay Junior, Junior Jay, JJ. Whatever. Junebug. Anyway, this post is dedicated to him. Read my blog and I might write an entry just for you too.

The little pepper.

I cut open a pepper this morning to make chili (which was delicious by the way) and look what I found...



A little baby pepper! Awww... I thought it was so cute!

The Fantasy.

Fantasy Football that is!

Ok I do realize I am a girl. But I argue that this does not mean that I can't play fantasy football. It also doesn't mean that I don't know anything about football. You see Big and I started dating 4 years ago on the 23rd. Shortly thereafter I was told that I had to have a favorite football team. Actually, this might not be true. Most likely it was the case that I got jealous of all of the football talk around me that I wanted a team of my own so that I could relate in SOME small way to Big and the new friends I was making through them. THUS I picked the New Orleans Saints. And here is why....



Doesn't that make you feel part of something?! For some reason, every man out there thinks that this is the worst reason to be a Saints fan ever. But this commercial taught me respect for my team, it did make me feel apart of something. While I have never been to the the NOLA I feel like I am a Saint. Listen to the song:

"We are traveling in the footsteps
Of those who've gone before
But we'll all be reunited
On a new and sunlit shore

Oh when the saints go marching in
When the saints go marching in
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in" - Louis Armstrong

And look at their teams... the Chiefs? The 49ers? Not Superbowl Champions!

But anyway, the opening game of the 2010 NFL Season (Saints vs. Vikings) is on and if I get caught blogging during the game I will be called an unfaithful fan. I just got yelled at for listening to LFO during football. Let's go Saints!

The Big Red Tractor.

Delete delete delete. This is the fourth time I have deleted this entry and the fifth time I have started it. For some reason this is a tough one for me and I'm making a promise to myself that I am not allowed to press 'delete' until after I click 'publish post'. Excuse the typos...

Dustin (oops, I mean Big) and I have been married for nearly 11 months. Which is almost a year. He's not home right now - it's Fantasy Football draft party night. So I am home alone with Woodchuck Raspberry Cider, frozen pizza, and the Emmy's. Sometimes I like alone time and other times I do not. Sometimes I can't help feeling that when Big is out with the dudes, I'm getting ditched. I hate that I think that way, I really do. I know that I'm not being ditched, he's alowed to hang out with other people, I'm allowed to hang out with my friends and I do. But when there is no one else to be with, I do get upset that he doesn't choose to be with me. Am I being selfish? I don't know.

Earlier this summer I read "A Million Miles In A Thousand Years" by Donald Miller. At one point he is talking to a woman named Susan and he asks her if she believes if there is one true love for every one.

"Susan essentially said no. And she said that with her husband sitting right there in the audience. She said she and her husband believed they were a cherished prize for each other, and that would probably drive any other people mad. But then she said something I thought was wise. She said that she had married a guy, and he was just a guy. He wasn't going to make all of her problems go away, because he was just a guy. And that freed her to really love him as a guy, not as an ultimate problem solver. And because her husband believed she was just a girl, he was free to really love ger too. Neither needed the other to make everything okay, they were simply content to have good company through life's conflicts. I thought hat was beautiful."

I think that's beautiful too. I think that during the good times, I always remember that Big is 'just a guy'. But when I hurt or feel lonely, or simply just want him to be with me, I forget that he is just a guy and not the ultimate problem solver.

You might be wondering about the title of this blog. Big & I went to his parents house a few weeks ago and he took me on a tractor ride. When your riding a tractor with the man you you love, he is just a guy, a best friend, the only other person in the world. Why can't I see him that way always? Why can't we always feel like I do when we're sitting on the red 1967(?) Massey-Ferguson tractor.



... "As long as I'm with you, it really don't matter." - Jason Aldean

The Big Visit.

My in-laws are coming in T minus 24 days. It's the first time that they have ever come to visit us and are staying in our house. I'm freaking out. Like I legitimately a freaking out. Why? WHY? Because my apartment is a disaster. And does not reflect the angel of a daughter-in-law that they obviously think that I am. The amount of cleaning and organizing that there is to do in 24 days is unbelievable. 'But you have plenty of time' you say. But no, this is not true. I live in a pit, my life is a mess, and my in-laws cannot know this.

The Most Awkward.

Since starting my blog, I have thought about approximately 9,000 things that I want to talk about and share with my readers (which right now consists of well, no one). Anyway, this one is at the top of my list. It is by far the MOST awkward thing that has EVER happened to me EVER. Fasten your seatbelts, put yourself in my shoes, and hang on tight....

Last weekend "Big" and I took a long weekend to go to a wedding in upstate New York and then on to visit his parents in Erie, PA. We left right after work on Friday and drove and got stuck in traffic, and drove, and stopped to fix the bike rack, and drove, and got stuck in traffic and drove some more. And then we got to our hotel just after midnight. Are we all on board so far? It was a long trip. But we checked in to our hotel room and went up the elevator and made a left and stood in front of door 225 with tired eyes longing for a good nights sleep. So Big slipped the card key into the slot and took it out, but the door wouldn't open. He tried again with no avail, and on the third try the little green light blinked and we opened the door.

"Well that was weird," I thought as I heard voices from the pitch black room saying "Hello, HELLO?!"

Yeah... there were people sleeping in our hotel room, or rather we were standing in theirs. And Big & I were staring directly at their baby sitting in a crib. Awkward! The most awkward ever. Ever ever ever. If you can top it, I would be very interested to know.

The Beginning

So I got back from a small gathering of friends last night and told my husband that I wanted to be a blogger. "A whaaat?", he said. "A blogger, Sara told me I should." He laughed, he knows that I'm not cut out for this kind of thing but I was given a little bit of confidence so here I go! And then he he continued to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Why this is so funny? I'm not really sure but then he told me that there is no one out there quite like me, which is why he loves me. Cute, right? Yeah, I love him too but I'm starting a blog and I need the support that only a husband can give.

To get his intrigue I told him that my blog needs a name, which we obviously argued over for a good 20 minutes (an explanation of the name will come in future posts). So when that argument ran dry I asked if he wanted an alias in my blog. I will most definitely be posting embarrassing things about him so for his own good I figured I should conceal his identity as best I can. From here on out, husband shall be known as "Big". He picked it, not me. And if that's what it takes for him to support my creative outlet, I'll take it.