on my birthday: the big 30

I turned 30 today.  Or, I suppose I am turning 30 all day long.  I plan on celebrating the new decade all the way to 11:59 PM.  And then - y'know - the whole year.

It's been a laid back sort of day.  We went for brunch, ran some errands and I'm curled up in front of a fire watching Mean Girls.  Seriously perfect day.

Last night, as I lay reading and K. was playing around on his computer (ahem, reading), I realized how relaxed I was about this birthday.  I love my birthday - I used to celebrate with wild abandon.  It was so incredibly important that my birthday was perfect.  One day, all mine.  (And, like, duh.  Not hard to figure out that one out.)

I made an important realization this year.  I don't need my birthday to be perfect.  I don't even need a day that is all about me.  My life is about as perfect as I can handle.  I get more than my share of days that center around things I like, need, want.  I don't have to fight for attention, or to be heard, or to be valued.

It's part me, part my husband, part growing up.  If this is how my thirties are starting -- I couldn't be more excited.


*Also, best present ever: extra large tervis tumbler with a lid and a straw.  It's a grown-up sippy cup.

there's a moment

When you realize that the person you've been busy being isn't exactly the person you want to be.  There's a moment.  I think the moment has sort of tapped me on the shoulder in the past, but I've never stopped to notice.

Trust me, at this point in my life, I've stopped to notice.

So this is not a New Year's Resolution post, or anything like that.  Perhaps it sort of is...  I haven't posted in forever at m&mdc so please forgive my rambling.  (Always forgive my rambling).

I wish there was something like a diet version of a regret.  There are things I wish I had handled differently.  And some I wish I had repeated more often.

Here's to 2011 to figure it out.

our tree

We went big this year. And when I come home, it makes me smile as soon as I walk in the room.

so, we need a little christmas

Despite my pledge to avoid Christmas at all costs, I am now in the thick of it. We're heading out to buy a Christmas Tree today from the Boy Scouts (bless them and their coupons), I have fifteen pounds of assorted nuts to turn into presents, and I've even chosen the theme for my wrapping. And all of a sudden, it's Christmas.

I'm still hoping to go on vacation over the big day -- steering clear of overbearing families and unfamiliar traditions. I have not been on vacation since my honeymoon, and after the butt-kicking of 2009 and 2010, I want one -- no, I need one.

Luckily, K. has finally agreed (or broken down, I'm not sure which) and we've decided where to go if (oh, lordy I hope it's when) I get my Christmas bonus. In the meantime, he's actually helped finish a craft or two and will definitely be helping with the Great Walnut/Pecan/Almond Roast of 2010. I almost wrote "Nut Roast" but realized that might cause a certain, ahem, backlash.

Also on board for Christmas, helping out a certain Republican and one flag maker. I'm a little overwhelmed with it all, but - sometimes - I'm not sure what life would be like if my hair wasn't a little on fire.

can't be bought

I've already voted. I'll be traveling next week -- and today I mailed my ballot back to Ion Sancho.

I love voting -- my favorite professor and political mentor told me it was akin to communion. Voting was a sacred ritual with my government, and every cycle I take it very seriously. Of course, I had to wait until I moved to Florida to vote for the people that transition from candidates to elected officials. I used to think it didn't matter that my candidates never won, but it certainly feels better to go to a victory party that does actually end in victory.

This year, the races are tight (other than US Senate, I should add). I voted for Alex Sink. Not shocking considering the fact that I'm a Democrat and used to compare myself to Harold Ickes ("I'd put my hand over a flame for the Democratic Party").

I read tonight that Rick Scott has pumped $48.8 million of his own fortune into his campaign and is now raiding his wife's trust fund for more (naked truth here). I commend him for dedication and desire and all that -- but seriously, Rick Scott? What do you need to buy that you haven't already bought? I understand your competitive nature - we're close to the end and what's a few more million, huh?

A few more million might be the difference between a community center for a county and another round of ads in Orlando. A few more million provides travel expenses for volunteer advocates for several years. A few more million feeds, clothes, educates more Floridians than your ads will solicit votes.

If you really want to make a difference, don't talk at me about Arizona immigration laws and your "conservative" values. The political mentor I mentioned above told me I didn't need an office or a fancy strategic plan, I just needed to walk out my front door determined to make a difference.

I think Alex Sink will make that difference -- and I think she's proved it with successes and lessons learned as the CFO. Rick Scott has only learned that money makes things go his way -- I guess there's a flip side he'll (hopefully) learn about on Tuesday night.

Baby Boom

I have been having, night after night, dreams that I am having a baby. SPOILER ALERT: I am NOT pregnant, nor am I trying to get pregnant. They aren't stressful dreams, by any means. Instead, it's somehow peaceful and exciting. I'm showing my family I'm pregnant, I'm climbing a mountain while pregnant, I'm entertaining while I'm pregnant -- dude, I might as well be playing hopscotch. It's good times with a big ole pregnancy belly.

And instead of feeling anxious or nervous or flat out petrified of these dreams, I'm happy. Well, I was happy after I googled "pregnancy dreams" and found out that positive pregnancy dreams are much more about rebirth than about actual gestation.

Whew. I can work with that.

On Passing.

So yes, K. passed the bar exam. Both parts. First try. To say I'm a little proud would be a gross understatement of the elation I feel each and every time I take a breath.

K. said it was easy. Since I was watching the whole process, I can attest it was not exactly easy. It wasn't hard, necessarily, for to me support my husband while he studied. That was the easy part. The hard part was wondering if my husband would keep his word.

It was a little dicey. Unfortunately for K., he inherited a whole freighter's worth of dependability baggage. After having a life where there was no consistency (both environmental and quite frankly, of my own making), it seems it's all I crave. Dependability. Reliability. Assurance. Shit, I sound like an insurance commercial.

And you know what? My husband kept his word. He took the exam. He told me he would pass it - this time or the next, but that he would do it. He made a plan; he stuck to it. He studied hard. And that, my friends, was not easy. All summer, he worked and studied and tried to be a good husband, son and friend. He got most of it right, most of the time. And whooeeee, did it pay off. There is nothing he cannot do... And I can say that with a straight face.

There was this whole part of my brain that was sucked up into wondering about what was coming next - when that proverbial shoe would drop. And you know what? It will take a conscious effort on my part, but I think I can stop thinking about shoes dropping out of the sky on my life. Other than that very pleasant dream where Jimmy and Christian and Manolo decide that I have the perfect foot.

I feel so damn relaxed. I'm not exactly sure what being high feels like, but there's got to be some similarities. And then, today -- I found two heads-up pennies and my normal Chick-Fil-A girl (yes, I have a normal Chick-Fil-A girl - it's right across the street from my office) gave me a free Chick-Fil-A biscuit. She was happy about the bar results too.

HE PASSED.

Take that Florida Bar Exam.

Highly Obvious.

Last night I had a very active dream.  I dream every night, but I rarely remember them in the morning.  Even when I want to catch an interesting dream, it's gone -- poof!

Last night I had a dream where K. and I were running a marathon, up a mountain that never seemed to crest.  We were waiting on bar results.  We'd keep running and he'd remember his bar number and I'd check the website to see if he passed.  It's amazing I could run and check a website all at the same time.  He'd pass!  Yeah!  We'd high five, and then he'd remember that his number was 12345, it was 54321.

I'd check that number and we'd be victorious again!  This pattern repeated the entire dream.

Um, yeah - I'm pretty sure it's easy to figure out what's on my mind.  Bar results are available tomorrow.  TOMORROW.  MONDAY.  sigh.  And we're both trying not to be too nervous.  That's like saying, hey dude - you're going to win a million dollars tomorrow, but hey, play it cool!  Ha.  Obviously you don't know me at all.

In other news, I did order a dress from www.lightinthebox.com (this one) - and it's on its way from China as we speak.  It better get here before Thursday.  Let's hope!

what net neutrality*?

Wa-waaaa.  And such was my attempt to watch the Gamecocks while at work last night.

dresses (final)

So - are you as bored about all this dress talk as I am?  Wait, who am I kidding?  I love talking about dresses.  I do.  I just do.

I finally made some decisions.  I purchased a rehearsal dress and a dress for the various weddings we have in September.  And I'm tickled by my choices.  Well, I actually want a different dress for late September.  I've been coveting a one-shoulder look.  Perhaps it's too much of The Rachel Zoe Project -- I die.

So, remember when I was whining about you, the internets, holidng out on me.  I found something fabulous -- www.LightInTheBox.com.  Somewhere in China, your dress will be made based on your specs, your color and fabric choices.  Shut your mouth!  It takes about two weeks, which means I will be cutting it close for the next shindig, but oh man -- will it be worth it (or maybe this one, or this one).  And, did I mention the prices?  Swoon.

This weekend, I'll get to see an old friend get married to her perfect partner.  It's amazing how these two get through the things life throws at them.  And, they've asked me to be a reader - which is incredibly sweet.  What does one wear when they want to look classy and pretty, but not in any way boobalicious?

Obvs.  Thank you, Nordstrom.  You save the day again!

Pride.

Yes, it's one of the seven deadly sins.  I get that.  But every once in a while - I just love seeing it. I was reading The Pioneer Woman today on my google reader (srsly, what did I do before google reader?  I know not).  She was writing about a rodeo competition her husband and family participated in -- did I ever tell you about the only rodeo I went to?  A clod of mud landed in my mom's coffee cup and it was hysterical.

Anyway, pride in one's family - it's lovely to see once in a while.  And while no one in my family is riding in a rodeo anytime soon, I am incredibly proud of K.  (No, I don't know about Bar results yet).

He worked on a local political campaign.  The candidate - in my words - was inexperienced, moody and pretentious.  He was also the best option to unseat a very popular incumbent.  Despite raising more money and having served for several terms, the incumbent only won by 1.4%.  Pathetic.  Lots more pathetic than K.'s candidate.

It was K.'s first campaign as paid staff - a fact I like to harp on whenever possible.    And he rocked it.  He worked hard and took it like a gentleman when the final results rolled in.  I hate the words, "mathematically impossible."

I'm proud of my husband.  There it is. 

Election Day!

Floridians will flock to the polls tomorrow to vote in primary and local elections.  One of my favorite people told me that voting was akin to taking communion.  It's important; it's ritual.

And this August 24th, I won't be voting.  Don't worry - I already voted...  for the first time I voted by absentee ballot.  And it was weird.  I missed the whole rigmarole of casting my vote.  I did love all the political mailers I got - I felt seriously popular.  Each day my mailbox was filled with full color, full bleed hope.

Yes, Ms. Dozier I am voting for you.  No, Ms. Headley-Purdue, I do not equate a vote for you with honoring WWII vets.  Yes, Mr. Minor, I thought your full page cash cow was impressive.  And I voted for you, too.  The Hons Aronberg and Gelber, I feel slighted that I didn't get one piece of mail.  Maybe you knew I  was all about Senator Dave?

I love the business behind elections, I love the dreams of candidates, I love every volunteer who wakes up early to wave signs on a street corner.  I have a dog in the fight this year - K. has been working for the Steve Stewart for Mayor campaign.  And, because of it - I took local politics a lot more seriously.

There's not a Democratic way to take out the garbage and there's not a Republican way to lower utility rates.  (I mean, other than the best way is usually the Democratic way).  (Heh).  I wish everyone luck tomorrow.  I hope the folks I believe in get the nod.  I hope the rain stays away.  And I hope everyone enjoys their communion with government.

Wedding Dresses 2.0

I have still not found a dress.  This could become epic.  Of course, I have yet to step one little (/waterski) foot into a store that actually sells dresses.  It's the downfall of having an online shopping addiction.

Well, that and a desire NOT to pay for overnight shipping.  So, I know people are out there.  Where do y'all shop?  Seriously - I feel like I'm overlooking something that could be perfect. 

Mrs. Complaint

If I wasn't complaining about something, I would probably stop breathing.  That could be an exaggeration for blogging purposes.  I do like to complain.  My diet-coke-with-light-ice has too much ice.  My diet-coke-with-light-ice doesn't have enough.  I'm equal opportunity about the side of the quarter or the water in the glass.

I've got to do something about that.  Maybe tomorrow.

Dresses for Weddings

I've got two weddings coming up in September.  And there's one thing I like more than browsing Crate & Barrel wedding registries...  buying a new dress for the occasion.

I will not be purchasing five new dresses in the next few weeks though (1 luncheon, 2 rehearsal dinners, 2 wedding receptions).  I already have the luncheon dress, which I once wore to cross a political divide.  But the other two?

Luckily, both events are at the same time, with about the same formality level.  So, I've sort of narrowed them down:

I don't wear orange. It's a hard and fast rule -- but I like it for a rehearsal dinner. It seems casual, but still a little dressy. The Melissa Masse sort-of-zebra-print is a favorite. The back of it is very cool (see here), but is it a little too much?  The Katy Perry look-alike strapless number is super cute, but might be super cute on me minus 50 lbs.  The navy strapless dress could be stunning and is good for evening weddings.  Also - all of them, the ones from Nordstrom and Saks to the one from Macys, are all under $150. 


And why do I worry about this in such detail?  Because it's Sunday night after a completely relaxing weekend and I'm not willing to mentally prepare for Monday.  And why not go on a little online window shopping?  Don't get me started on shoes.

C25K

A hundred years ago (B.C.), I had a friend named Morgan. She was clever, smart and I coveted her hair color. She wanted to be a runner. And, um, so did I. She researched and I went along with it and we'd run in West Columbia along the river.

It was great. We used the Couch to 5K program (available online). Towards the end, it was a little difficult to keep up with Morgan. She was a much better runner than I was. I was saved by the oh-so-popular Whistle Song more times than one.

Even though I ran slow, sounded like a herd of elephants and panted more than a Pamela Anderson sex tape -- I loved the fact that I was running. I was one of those cool people who ran after work (we tried the whole before work thing and it didn't quite work).

I miss it. And so, I'm going to move my beastly form and try to run again. That's right people -- if you hear a herd of elephants around midtown, don't worry: it's just me.

Cable.

Oh. Holy. Shitake.

We have cable. And - please knock on wood - we're not paying for it. I have no idea what happened. All of a sudden, I turned on the television while cleaning and WHOA. We're talking Bravo, AMC and TNT. I can't believe it.

I feel - and yes, I'm embarrassed to admit it - connected to the world again. I caught up on Bethenny, Real Housewives of NJ and DC.  I watched Mad Men.  It was fantastic.

Dear Cable: don't ever leave me!

Grateful.

Y'all, I am so damn grateful.

My husband and I, the sometimes amazing, always ridiculous K., are about to land on the other side of the Florida Bar Exam.  Hallelujah.  Halle-fuckin-lujah.

He asked me last night, after the first day, if I would be mad if he had to take the exam again.  He didn't understand why I laughed hysterically.  1) I legitimately believe he's going to pass the exam.  2) He would be willing to take it again!  AWESOME.  My husband is  stepping up.

When I dropped him off at the test site on Tuesday (and a little bit this morning), I cried.  I was so proud.  My husband made a pledge and is living up to it.  And he was ready - he took preparation seriously.

And I am so grateful.  To the friends who heard me bitch about the Bar Exam.  To my family who supported us with love and emails and phone calls. 

To my husband, whom I believe in, again. Not because he's going to pass the Bar Exam (and he is), but because he took the damn thing.

Calm? I got your...

calm right here!

Yeah, we're T-minus hours until the Florida Bar Exam. And while I had the good sense to avoid a manicure (yes, I'm still a nail biter), I did not have the good sense to avoid a hair cut. I am now the proud owner of a disastrous new 'do that makes me look a lot like the Church Lady.

K. remains a bastion of calmness. He's been listening to BarBri on hyper-speed, and regurgitating information about Florida Homestead exemptions and evidence exceptions. He's sleeping soundly. And on Friday, he looked at me and said, "This is all coming together." Well gee, babe, I sure hope so.

I'm nervous - but not absurdly nervous. Appropriately nervous. And aside from the r e a l l y awful situation on top of my head, I am excited about driving to Tampa tomorrow. I am thrilled that my incredibly smart husband is here. At this spot. Ready. Prepared. He amazes me.