Three Prairie Fires to the Wind

In order to celebrate my first night of twenty-seveness, Holly, Andi and I headed out for a beer at Uisce, the one authentic Irish pub in town. And as luck would have it, it was Quiz Night. So we promptly got our game faces on and prepared to win team A HA! some respect. However, as it turned out, we were only in time for the second half* and the questions were a bit tough for our inebriated brains (or at least mine anyway…). So we were only able to get 10 out of 26 questions correct. (Although, let the record show we only answered 10 of the 26 questions…so really, we got 100%.)

Post quiz, we decided to top-er-off with a round of prairie fires. Andi had never had one, I was keen to try it again, and Holly is just a veteran stud. So we asked Logan (our new BF…aka the bar tender) if he had any tequila. He promptly replied, “ahh, yeah” (honestly, a true valley girl would have been proud). We immediately followed that up with a round of giggles and (eventually) a request for Tabasco. Again, he replied in the affirmative. Alright then, good sir, we’d like 3 prairie fires. “Uh....for yourselves?!?” He’d never heard of anyone ordering such a drink of their own volition. “Are you sure?” Logan asked, “It’s like taking a shot for 5 minutes.” Hahhahahaha! If we weren’t determined already, this sealed the deal. Though he didn't like it, he quickly whipped out our drinks. We toasted to turning 27 and prepared to kiss the sun. But as it turned out, he was kind to us and they went down easy-peasy. We didn’t even feel like breathing fire immediately afterward. Instead we universally responded with, “Pffft! That was child’s play!”**

All in all, a great first day of being 27. In fact, it was so great, we're going to go back next Tuesday and do it all again.

*As it turns out, there are two separate (but equal) halves to Trivia Night. And wouldn’t you know it, one of the questions from the first half was, “What group is famous for the hit 867-5309?” If you frequent this blog at all, then you know I was quite dismayed to have missed my opportunity at that little piece of trivia. I shouted out the answer anyway, even though it had no bearing on the outcome whatsoever.

**Apparently Holly could still feel the shot for another 5 minutes, but my constitution had no complaints whatsoever.

Retiring

So even though quitting my job was one of the toughest decisions I have faced (so far) in this new journey, I have had the incredible opportunity to bless one of my very favorite friends by doing so. Now, I know that sounds weird at face value, but it's totally true.

By leaving my job I was able to offer it to my very good friend Kristen right when her family needed it. As it would turn out, in one of those mind-bending-God-is-awesome phenomena, the very morning that I called Kristen to offer her, well, my job, her husband had quit his job. It turned out to be a not so pleasant situation and they had decided it just wasn't right. Within a few hours I was knocking on the door, offering them a full-time position. God is so good!

So even though I'm sad to leave my first post-college job, I know in the end, it was the best thing for me to do. And in the mean time, I get to train my good friend all day for my last two weeks! And by "train", I mean giggle all day and take silly pics of ourselves. Heh heh. No, that's not really true. (*pause*) Okay, maybe it's a little true. :)

Turning 27 with Robert Frost

In light of all the huge life changes I'm making, I was touched to receive this poem from our CFO for my birthday today. I don't think I could find anything else quite this perfect to describe my life right now. (I actually get a little emotional reading it...)

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

My Life in a 10 x 10 x 10 cube

I wouldn't say I typically think of my life in material terms, but last weekend I did exactly that. With Step 2 of "the plan" completed, it was now necessary to vacate my house in order for my new renters to move in. (Believe it or not, they didn't want all my crap in the house when they moved in. I know; weird, huh?)

Now, under normal circumstances moving usually forces one to come to terms with what he or she truly "needs" vs. what he or she "would like to keep". But let me tell you, when you're moving into a tiny space that you're paying for by the foot, this confrontation of need vs. want is transformed from the typical problem child to something more like a kid freaking out on an overdose of ridalin. In this world of consumption and possessions, accumulation is suddenly a large and looming enemy. Simplicity and minimalism is the goal, the new idea of perfection. And that is how I came to store my entire life in a 10 x 10 x 10 cube for $69 a month (buy two months, get one free!)

None of this would have been possible without the super-packing skills of Andi Vann-Lo ("Oh wait, cram this in before you seal it!"), the let's-err-on-the-side-of-throwing-it-away attitude of Diana ("Are you really going to miss this two months from now??), the uber-tetris skills of Brian and Corey ("Wait. I think if we move this over here, we can fit an extra box over there...."), the brilliant space saving ideas of Kelly ("Ya know, the carpets take up less room if you unroll them on the ground and your furniture won't get dirty"), the faith of the Bedients to counter my it's-never-gonna-all-fit attitude ("Remember the japanese maple?? We never thought we could move it and now it's the tree of faith!") as well as the many, many other helping hands over the last week (Terps, Mausses, Bowkers). Just when I'm feeling like I can't get it all done, the Lord reminds me just how many helping hands he's given me.

All I can say is thankyouthankyouthankyou.

Tweener List

I've had a few requests for examples of the Tweeners I've seen, so I thought I'd share with the everyone (in case anyone else was also interested).  Enjoy!

Lars and the Real Girl

Once

Away from Her

Juno

Death at a Funeral

Before Sunrise

Bella

Son of Rambow

Waitress

In Bruges

The Nines

Did you just say sushi tape?

As it turns out, when the Terps came over Monday night to help me begin the daunting task of packing up my whole house, we discovered that the only packing tape I had was covered in pictures of sushi.

Yeah, I said sushi.

My only defense for owning this particular item is that it was actually a gift to me from the Bowkers. Apparently the combination of tiny, raw bites of food with tightly bound, secure boxes makes them think of me. (*shurg*) I'm down with that.

I began my inaugural evening of packing by asking the simple question, "What do you think I should do with all my condiments?" Immediately Dustin walked directly to my fridge and began reading off expiration dates. Much to our mutual disgust, over 90% of the items were expired. Now, before you go and judge me for having a nasty, ill-kept fridge, please note that most of the items did not belong to me. It turns out my fridge had become a monument to the eating preferences of roommates past. As you can imagine, Dustin went to town emptying old, rotten salad dressings, expired relish, and sour piña colda mix down the drain (and with minimal gagging too!) By the time he was finished, my recycle bin was filled to the brim-tip-top.

So as Dustin tackled the fridge (randomly yelling out expiration dates or poignantly asking, "Horseradish sauce? Who buys that?" Abby and I packed up the dining room. We focused our efforts on the liquor cabinet, carefully wrapping all my wine glasses and swizzle sticks first in paper, then bubble wrap while simultaneously rationalizing we might as well take all the alcohol to their house. :) Since we'll be roomies for the next few weeks, it seemed like the best way to "pack" it. (Heh.)


(In unrelated news, if you're Jonesin' for a cocktail in the next month, you might want to stop by the Terps.)

Step Three: Secure Ticket

So it's not exactly a ticket to Italy...but it'll work ;) Thanks Dad for cashing in the miles on my behalf! (And first class too!!) Muahahha!

Go big or go home, baby.

Blog Silence (or Update on the Madre)

Sorry for the drought of posts, o fair readers. Just when I was getting back into the swing of things, catastrophe struck. However, I'm relieved to say, things are finally smooth again on the familial waterfront. Here's what happened:

Last Monday my mom was scheduled to have a couple of stents put in the veins near her heart as they were completely blocked (imagine putting your hands into a rubber band and pulling them apart - this is kind of how a stent opens the vein). She'd been having trouble with some severe shortness of breath and this was thought to be the cause.

So they loaded her up on blood thinners and went in through her femoral artery (the one in your leg). Once they had gotten the equipment in there, a blood clot spontaneously formed and made it's way to her heart. With the equipment in one end and the clot in the other...yeah, it wasn't good news. The clot caused her heart to stop. The doctors had to abandon the procedure and resuscitate her. They worked for 45 minutes until they had a consistent heart beat. They put a balloon pump near her heart (in her body - isn't that crazy?) to do the work of her heart so her heart could rest and they intubated her to aid her breathing. She was in ICU for the first two days. That was the scary part.

Fortunately she turned the corner and recovered like a champ. Her heart did not sustain any damage and she is healing well. Her memory was quite foggy for a few days, but there was no loss of brain function from the resuscitation episode. She spent the next week in the hospital slowly gaining her strength back. She's been pretty tired and it's still difficult to breathe (and she has pneumonia now to boot - thanks to the intubation), but she's finally starting to feel better.

Last night she was able to get a full night's sleep (the first time in a while) and she's regaining her mobility. Just a couple of days ago she could only go a few steps at a snail's pace before she was completely winded. She's not quite up to full speed yet - but she's walking all around the house like it's nothing and is only slightly out of breath. Praise the Lord!!

She's bruised beyond belief (see pic)

and you can still see the burn marks from the paddles, but she's going to be fine. (Apparently CPR is hard on your body...) Once she recovers enough they'll discuss going back in to actually put the stents in place (unfortunately they weren't able to do it while they were in there because her dang heart stopped).

In the mean time - we're all thankful she's alive. Let me tell you: being confronted with your parent's mortality is about the least fun thing in the world. I know it's something we all have to come to terms with one day, but I expected it to be a slow and gradual process, much like aging itself. The older they got, the more I would slowly leak the message that I won't have them around forever to my sub-conscience. Instead this was morel like being punched in the face by a stranger, then having my assaulter say, "whoops - thought you were someone else" and go on their merry way. I wouldn't say I'm thankful for the experience, but it's certainly shown me what I'm made of, opened my eyes a bit, and oh-so-relieved that my assailant didn't set his sights on me for a royal ass whooping.

Despite my lack of contact with the outside world, all of the phone calls, emails, and voicemails of support have been greatly appreciated. When push comes to shove, it's the greatest blessing to know just how many people really love you and are praying for you. Thank you.

What I Like to Call "Tweeners"

You know those movies that small-ish production companies put out that are advertised just enough that you hear about it once and would like to see it, but then you miss the window of opportunity and never end up watching it? The films that do not come with billion dollar budgets and a predictable ending? The ones that aren't exactly independent films per se (which pretty much guarantees you an unhappy ending), but they're somehow not conventional either? These are what I like to call Tweeners and I'm gaining a rapid appetite for them.

Thanks to my newfound freedom afforded me via Netflix (see earlier post), quite a few Tweeners have found their way into my DVD player of late. It seems to me that films like these combine the best of both worlds: they're not afraid to tackle a particularly interesting/different/challenging content, yet you don't see the ending coming from 30 minutes in (either as the cookie cutter perfection that Hollywood tends to feed us, but also not the inevitable downer ending that indie films tend to favor).

So far, I'm finding them to be emotionally very rich and surprisingly delightful. I'm left with the same feeling I get after a good novel: my brain is still processing the complexity of the plot/characters/emotional relationships and I'm craving a "book club" discussion.

Next time you get the chance - pick one up. I've had good luck with Lionsgate and Focus Features so far (and I think also Fox Searchlight Features).

Step Two: Rent House

The second step in my plan to take over the world...oh wait - wrong blog. The second step in my crazy plan to turn my life upside down and embrace some "growth" (thanks Brett) is to rent out the good ol' casa de Champoux. I can't very well pay my mortgage and be fancy free (not to mention footloose) in Italia simultaneously. Thus, finding renters is a must.

Now after the obnoxious and less-than-awesome nine month process it took to sell the bug last year, I have been a bit weary about embracing this whole "renting thing". Especially because there is a very real deadline in which I have to meet; renting the house is absolutely pivotal in my cuckoo plan actually coming to fruition.

Fortunately for me, my good friends the Bedients have recently become landlords themselves and have been a great resource of information (not to mention a reassurance that it can be done) for me. As it turned out, while I was tapping into said resource, Diana mentioned that our old friends the Pfriems would soon be moving back to Bellingham. Perhaps they would be interested in renting??

Brilliant! Spot on! Good show old chap!! (sorry - went British there for a sec) What a great idea! After a few phone calls (thanks Andi!) I learned the rumor was not only true, but they were still in need of a place to live. Woo hoo!!

Long story short - after lots of pictures, a two hour tour (anyone else hear the theme song to Gilligan's Island in their head right there?), still more pictures and a second brief tour - the Pfriem's signed a one year lease!! Move in day is set for August 27th.

As if that wasn't easy enough, the Terps have also agreed to be my property managers while I'm gone. Wow. Can you say ridiculously cool? I still can't believe how perfectly it has all come together. Talk about the exact opposite experience of selling my car. If I needed any more confirmation from the Lord that this was the direction in which I should be moving, I guess I just got it. :)

P.S. HOLY CRAP I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING!

(okay, I'm fine now.)

Keens that Click!

Just when I thought you couldn't get any better...you go and do something like this: and totally out-do yourself!


Keens are super cool. They're sandals taken to the next level. They're water shoes without being 1980s acqua sox. They're light on your feet, they don't make your dogs bark, and after miles of wear they don't stink! They've got a nice tread and a rubber toe that comfortingly reminds you that you can rough house in them and not regret it later. You can wear them in the water or in the mud - heck! You can throw 'em in the washer. These shoes rock.



And they've just taken them to the next level.

This summer Keen came out with a version of it's most popular shoe that is SPD compatible. For all of you out there that aren't bike geeks, it means that they have cleats that attach to the bottom of the shoe so that road and mountain bikers alike can click their shiny new shoes into their pedals and enjoy a summer of fun in style. Seriously - it's the greatest thing since sliced bread. I can't get over it.

Actually, what I can't get over is that last summer I tried talking both Brian and Nick into manufacturing me this exact concept!! I thought for sure one of these two extra brilliant bike geniuses could jerry-rigg (sp?) a set of cleats onto my favorite sandals...but no such luck. It figures I would have a brillant idea moments before it goes public. I'm gonna have to start writing these things down...