Once upon a time...

Retiring

2011-10-15T15:43:00.000-05:00

Now that I'm newly married and starting a whole new chapter in my life, I figured my all new stories deserved an all new blog. You can now catch me over at Happily We Roll Along! If you were receiving my blog through email and want to receive the new one as well, follow the link to the blog page and on the right hand side is a section where you can "Subscribe by email". Just fill out the little box and you'll be all set!

Time Flies When...

2011-02-02T16:06:00.000-06:00

A.) you're planning a wedding
B.) you're starting your own business
C.) you're adjusting to your own new schedule as well as the schedule of your live-in loved one
D.) you've just discovered that Netflix offers Wi-Fi streaming of Bones Season 1-6 (commercial free viewing WOO-HOO!)

Well, that about sums up the last month (at least) of my life. I'd love to write a witty, awe-inspiring blog of how I'm spending my last few months of bachelorette-hood, but the truth is that my "bachelorette" days have been far, far behind me for many years now (good thing I wasn't keeping a blog from age 19-25...). Now that the holidays are over (thank God-I love Christmas but it was a bit stressful this year), we are in full wedding mode. I don't want to go into too many details, but I am definitely not dealing with the stress well. I don't think I've quite reached "Bridezilla" stature yet (please don't ask my mother for confirmation of this as I'm sure she disagrees), but I was pretty much done with the wedding once the dress was picked out. I've been very lucky to find special vendors and a wedding planner who completely understand what I want, and as far as I'm concerned at this point, I'm just showing up and getting married-which, after all, is the point. The problem is, there are still a lot of questions I'm required to answer, and after about two I start to feel all wound up in the pit of my stomach, my ears start to burn, the room starts to spin, and I feel the need for a priest, some holy water, and a good old fashioned exorcism. Blake deals with this in several ways: leaving the room (if possible), not asking me any questions about the wedding (if possible), or delaying the questioner (if possible). When all else fails, he just reminds me that we can elope at any point, then I feel guilty since I'm the one who wanted a wedding to begin with. So far he still wants to marry me, which means the subliminal messages I've been playing while he sleeps must be working.

Last October I quit my job at Microsoft, for several reasons. Quitting my job and all the decisions we had to make following that is a story in itself, but ultimately I decided to do something my mom and I had talked about for the last year. I decided to start my own business. I learned to quilt last year, and I have known how to sew, knit, and crochet for years, but I had always done it as a hobby. My mother also sews, and we had joked for some time how we could have our own craft show booth someday. Well, I took it to the next step and decided to do it right. I set up shop on Etsy with the intention of eventually having enough inventory to do a craft show. Eventually (which for the time being means "after the wedding") mom will begin stocking her own inventory, and I want to do my first craft show in October. There are many things that go into starting any business, no matter how large or small, and I am keeping track of all the steps-my real fortune may be in a "How To (or NOT to, only time will tell)" book that features helpful practical hints like, "Don't try to start a business when you are planning your wedding unless you have unlimited funding, God-like patience, and a metabolism that can handle 4 glasses of wine at dinner. Even then, you may want to think twice." I digress.

Minus the funding, patience, and metabolism, I have opened shop as The Sewprano. I am extremely proud of myself to have gone as far as I have to this point. I don't have a huge inventory, and I don't have much listed yet, but my goodness, just to be recognized as a business took a lot of work! There was paperwork to be filed, tax numbers to be acquired, and websites to be set up. I have learned how to "Photoshop" (I can't afford Photoshop so I use a free online program called Gimp that I like very much and is very similar), and I have learned to create my own logo, blog background, headers, etc. This requires a lot of time on the computer, and I'm still trying to get stuff made to list on the Etsy site, so all in all it's slow going. The point is-it's going!

Sooooo, with all that you can imagine that Blake and I are still struggling to adjust to our life together. I absolutely love being home when he walks through the door, but we are still very much on different schedules. I am trying to figure out the whole "work at home" thing with the whole "housewife" thing, and I've never been very good at housekeeping to begin with. I haven't quite got into a routine yet of when I do chores and when I work on The Sewprano, when I work out and when it's ok to watch Netflix. Unfortunately, by the time I've figured it out for the day, Blake has walked through the door and is ready to relax, preferably with me. I don't relax-well, ever. When I do, it's not until 8 or 9, and by then he's almost ready for bed. We're slowly striking a balance between our schedules and our natures by keeping open lines of communication, taking things day by day, and making out madly after disagreements.

Which means we're ahead of the curve with the marriage game in my opinion. Now if we could just survive the wedding.

Cookie Day 2010

2011-01-10T15:15:00.000-06:00

Cookie Day! This year was the best yet. Well, actually it was relatively uneventful-no exploding baggies of chocolate or extra butter in the nut bars. Last year's Cookie Day didn't even get a blog, due to the fact that I had bronchitis and pneumonia for most of the holiday season and I can hardly remember if there even was a Cookie day. I did, however learn some valuable lessons from the past two years of baking that led to oodles of goodies and not too many "oops"-es.

Cookie Day this year did not begin on a Friday, which was the actual baking day. I started gathering recipes a month in advance, and narrowed them down by the Monday before. Then Blake and I made a spreadsheet-yes, folks, a spreadsheet-for ingredients. We went shopping on Wednesday, and I had piles of cookie sheets, mixers, ingredients and everything I could think of that we'd need ready to go by Thursday night. Friday morning rolled around and we hit the road for Bubbi's Big House (we ended up only forgetting a few things-like the extra eggs and butter. Hey, no one's perfect).

Ahem. In case you didn't know, Bubbi's Big House is my parents' new house, not something out of a Pee Wee Herman episode.

So, we hit the road for Bubbi's Big House. We were only on the road for five minutes before I exploded into some very colorful language about some very bad drivers. I don't know what it is about the Christmas season, but it seems to bring out the stupid in anyone driving around me-and I'm not exactly known for my patience. It makes me feel better that Blake at least agrees with me on this point: we should probably be the only two people allowed to drive as we seem to be the only people who understand the actual rules of the road. However, I digress. Rules of the Road by Nikki and Blake can be another blog.

In any case we managed to make it to Bubbi's Big House (as we all call my parent's house now) without getting in any wrecks or shooting anyone (anything other than the finger, that is). We unpacked (Dinner Impossible style)...

and then got on with the baking plan.

Wait. Baking plan? What is this plan you speak of (I can hear all you people who know me all too well!)? Well, I do believe I mentioned that I learned a lesson or two over the past few years, and having a plan actually helps. I say this with a slight tinge of regret, since there is far less possibility for disaster and thrills when you actually know what you are doing. In my opinion, no day in the kitchen (or anywhere really) is complete without at least the possibility of danger. Then again, Blake seems to be of the opinion that having me in the kitchen at all is akin to one of those natural disaster movies my father loves so much, so I thought it was probably best not to tempt fate or Blake's patience and just come up with a plan.

So the Plan. It wasn't very complicated-just make all the doughs that have to refrigerate first, and then everything else. And-wait for it, wait for it-not only did I have a plan, I had notes. Since we have used several recipes for several years in a row, and we had figured out tricks and tips, I actually wrote them down. I know, I know, I'm taking all the fun and spontaneity out of Cookie Day. I'm becoming *gasp* my mother. Hmmm, maybe not such a bad thing....

Bake, bake, bake...clean, clean, clean...

and by 5:30 the ovens were off and the cookies were in tins! The last chores were wrapping the caramels and sugaring the homemade gumdrops, which I was saving for last. See, we had a special guest helper at the end of the night...

Blake cut the gumdrops while Jack and I tossed them in the sugar...

Then we put them in a separate bowl to dry. Jack liked throwing the gumdrops around in the sugar...but he liked eating them better. The special project ended when he started licking the sugar off his palms. But hey, not bad for his first Cookie Day!

December

2010-12-01T23:37:00.000-06:00

AHHHHHHHH!!!!

It's December already!

Seriously, I can't believe how fast this year went. Wasn't it just January like yesterday? Seems like not too long ago my years were measured by school-Christmas vacation-school-spring break-school-SUMMER!-back to school already? Even now mid-December and end of May rolls around and my internal clock slows down. Bedtimes should be later and alarms should be shut off. More importantly, responsibility should be limited to what movie are we going to and whose house are we hanging out at after?

HA.

It's December 1, and I'm already panicking that A) I don't have all my Christmas cards signed, sealed, and delivered, B) I have exactly 2 Christmas presents bought, and C) before you know it, it will be January 1st and I will be 90 days away from being married in a still not completely planned wedding. By the way, if this were a multiple choice test, the answer is D) ALL OF THE ABOVE.

So let's look at the positives for a moment.

Today I picked up my wedding dress. I wore my hair up today, and when I tried on the dress it looked beautiful with my hair up (I wanted to wear my hair down for the wedding, but now...). I caved and asked to try on one more veil (I didn't want a veil). The veil looked beautiful. I now have a veil. I am dying to just put the whole outfit on and stare at myself in it for hours-because God knows I probably will never put it on again after the wedding (although if any of my girlfriends are reading this and want to get together post wedding for wine in wedding dresses, I'm totally up to hosting). Unfortunately the dress will be living at mom's house until the wedding, so I'll just have to hop over there every once in awhile to gaze and adore.

My house is unpacked and decorated for Christmas, and most of our big projects have been tackled. Blake has turned into quite the handy man. I think he has surprised himself at some of the projects he has taken on. I happen to think he's Superman, so I'm not at all surprised. My favorite renovations are the small ones. The new backsplash in the kitchen is AWESOME, but the new toilet seats in the bathrooms that actually fit our toilets as opposed to extending four inches out from the edge of the bowl have revolutionized my bathroom experience. Also, we have (after trial and error) finally installed a door on our bedroom. Once upon a time we thought (okay, I thought) it would be a good idea to sand the door before we painted it. Only the door wasn't actually wood, it was plywood with some kind of plastic veneer that should most definitely NOT be sanded. Then Blake had the brilliant idea that maybe we could sand off the veneer which resulted in a door that looked like this: ~~~ So we bought a new door which of course didn't fit because the old door was pre-hung in the frame and they don't make doors that size. Out came the saw-problem solved. Until Blake tried to chisel a place for the hinges and the crappy $20 door literally split in half, showing us it's styrofoamy innards. So ~~~ with white paint doesn't look so bad now. Actually, you can hardly see where we tried to sand. And now I can't hear Blake open his cereal in the morning and he can't hear me watch TV at night. Thanksgiving never ends around here.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, we are on a tryptophan high (or is it low?) around here. With all the turkey leftovers from two families, I've had the chance to try out some creative leftover recipes. I'm getting pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. I made a turkey gratin (fancy phrase for turkey/pasta/LOTS of cheese) that was super delicious. If I can edit my notes to resemble a recipe I'll be happy to share it on the blog. Unfortunately right now it includes phrases like "throw cheese in the pot until it looks right". Guess I'm not winning any culinary awards any time soon.

I can hear gentle snores coming from behind my new/old bedroom door, which means it's time to wrap this up and go snuggle with the biggest positive on my list. Happy holidays ya'll-the craziness has officially begun!

Life as a Wife

2010-11-17T23:09:00.000-06:00

It was a Friday night and Blake was out with his friends while I was home relaxing with a bottle of Chardonnay. I found myself with nothing to do (which means I was playing Farmville on Facebook and had 30 minutes left till I could harvest anything...) so I decided to play one of my favorite random games: Google That! I made it up all by myself. Just go to Google, start typing in any random question, and hit enter. Ok, so maybe that's why Google was invented, but still, you get some pretty interesting answers (and questions, now that they have Google Instant).

And somehow during this random question game I thought to ask the almighty Google, "What does it mean to be a wife?"

This was my personal favorite answer:

"It means you have promised to have and to hold, from that day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do you part.

It also means you may now fart in front of him."

I laughed. And then I got kinda sad. Because that was the only semi-decent answer to the question. What DOES it mean to become a wife? I haven't found many positive or affirming answers out there. On top of that, I'm Blake's second wife (which I rarely think about, I have never once felt "second" in his life)-and the Google results for "What does it mean to be his second wife" were even more disheartening.

I have been very fortunate in that Blake and I have encountered very few obstacles as a couple. I think it's a combination of the fact that both of us were in very poisonous relationships prior to meeting each other (and therefore infinitely more grateful to find a partner who was also grateful), and that we are just suited for each other in just about every way. We complement each other very well. However, that does not mean that it hasn't taken us time to adjust to being a we after being just a me for so long. Dating is/was fun (I say that because I believe that in order for us to remain a successful couple we will need to continue "dating" each other in some form or fashion for the rest of our lives)-but the moving in together presented a major stepping stone and change in how we spent our time together.

For instance, the first month we lived together Blake asked me every single night, "What do you want to do tonight?" And finally, after a month, I explained that some nights I wanted to come home and do nothing. And nothing means nothing. Not sit and watch tv with you. Not play a game together. Not talk about our days. I mean I want to come home and no offense but I don't want to talk to you or anyone else I just want a glass of wine and my computer or tv or book and do what I do without being watched, talked at, monitored, followed, or otherwise reminded that I currently share this space with another human being.

Of course that doesn't mean I love that human being any less.

I just need some me time, and I know myself well enough to know I'm always going to need that. I'm going to have to figure out how to explain this to my kids someday. But that's a WHOLE other blog.

See what I mean? Right now I'm just the live-in girlfriend/fiancee who is trying to find a balance between the "me" I know and the "we" I want. And I've been a "we" before, so this isn't exactly new territory.

"Wife" is an exciting, alluring, strange, frightening, important and yet at the same time almost mundane thing to become. I mean, come on. We all know "wives". Nearly all the women in my life are or have been at one time a wife. Does being a wife take on new meaning as you celebrate your 35th year with the title? Or does it just become another way you define yourself? "Oh, I'm so-and-so's wife..." Most women I've talked to have said that being a wife is definitely different from being a girlfriend, but none of them can really define what changes.

My girlfriend Lindsay is a very different wife from my girlfriend Lauren, who is a very different wife from my girlfriend Emily, who is a different wife than my mother, who is a different kind of wife than my grandmother was or what my sister-in-law is. I will be a different wife than they are. I wonder how I will define "wife" when the time comes.

And I wonder how life as a "wife" will define me.

Pictures and Flowers and DJs-Oh My!

2010-10-27T20:35:00.000-05:00

I am getting married. I have a website that counts down the days (157, if you're curious). Getting married sounds like a lot of fun. I certainly am excited to marry Blake. I really and truly cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with him. And have lots of babies with him. Or just the two he says I can have before he cuts me off. Whatever.

Anyway, getting married sounds like fun.

Planning a wedding is not.

First off, let me start by saying I don't want a traditional wedding. I am not one of those girls who grew up dreaming about her wedding day and planning it and scrapbooking it and stop me now before I puke. Not that there is anything wrong with that-I'm just not that kind of girl. I didn't think that would be such a problem-in fact I was heavily leaning towards a small elopement, except for the fact that I can't pass up a big ole party where there's wine, beer, and my favorite people. Throw in a pretty dress, a diamond ring, and the man of my dreams-well pretty much it's a no brainer. And hell, it's a wedding, aren't people supposed to bend over backwards to make all your wishes come true?

(Insert evil laugh)

Turns out people have pretty strong opinions regarding weddings. Not just mothers and mother-in-laws and friends and family. Nooooooooo. All those wedding vendors you're going to shell out big bucks to? They have pretty strong opinions too, and they're not afraid to voice them. At almost every turn where I've requested something unique or out of the ordinary, the vendor in question has raised an eyebrow and less than gently tried to steer my opinion back to the road more traveled.

As if I need anyone telling me what MY wedding should be. Bridezillas suddenly seems to deserve a little more sympathy.

It hasn't been all bad. I found a fantastic photographer who today relieved some of my wedding stress by sending us our engagement photos. Looking through them I fell in love with Blake all over again. And I remembered why I was going through all this (drinks, diamonds, man of my dreams...).

So as long as Blake is waiting for me at the end of that aisle, and says "I Do", then it won't matter what I'm wearing, what color the cake is, or if it's pouring rain. And really, that's what it's all about.

(Yes, I quoted the Hokey Pokey. I think it's pretty deep stuff. Better be prepared to dance it at my wedding. With no complaints. Thank you very much.)

I've Been Tagged!

2010-10-26T08:50:00.000-05:00

I've been sadly neglecting my blog, and thanks to my good friend Lauren Parr from "The Fabulous Life of Lauren" I have a nice little push to get back into the blogosphere. Lauren tagged me in a blog survey (TAG! you're it!), and I thought it would be fun to answer. So here we go...

What is your greatest achievement?

For me, nothing will ever top the moment when I was standing in Rockefeller Plaza, after a long hard day of many, many auditions, and I received the phone call that I was being offered a job in a Broadway national tour. Since I was a little girl all I had ever dreamed about was singing and dancing and standing at the edge of a big stage, taking a bow and basking in the applause. That moment in the middle of the city that never sleeps, my biggest dream came true. Even though I ultimately decided to take a different road, I will always carry with me that no dream is too big or out of reach.

What is your worst habit?

I bite my nails. And I mean baaaad. I've been trying so hard to break the habit-this last year especially. I mean, I have this gorgeous diamond ring on my hand now, and somehow when I'm gazing at in wonder my hand just drifts toward my mouth...and eeewwww. I hate it hate it hate it-and can't seem to break it. Especially when I'm super stressed. Which I have been (I've quit my job, I'm planning a wedding...gee, what do I have to stress about?!).

What did you want to be when you "grew up"?

Well, I went through a lot of phases (what kid didn't?!). The first thing I remember telling people I wanted to be was the first female President, but then I realized I didn't quite have the temperament (or the ability to filter my opinions) for a politician. There was a long period of time where I wanted to be an author-I love books, I love language, and I love expressing myself. I still haven't quite let go of that dream yet, although I put it aside the first time I sang in choir and got bit by the acting bug. Then I settled on "I want to be an actress when I grow up." Well, so far I'm one for three-TWO for three if you count blogger as an official publication! So maybe I should start coming up with a campaign slogan...

What is your favorite childhood memory?

My parents are not going to believe this, but my favorite childhood memories are of all the road trips we took from Texas to Pittsburgh and back again. When I was little we didn't have the money for flying, and my parents weren't going to let us miss out on visiting our family up north. So when summertime would roll around they pulled out the old Snail Cartop Carrier, pile me and my brother in the backseat of the station wagon with a sleeping bag, and at 4 AM off we'd go across America.

It wasn't all apple pie and sunshine. There was a lot of "Don't touch me!!!" "Are we there yet?!" "I HATE that music!" and we were all a LOT happier when we got to upgrade to a minivan. But mostly what I remember is playing car bingo and travel trivia. I remember taking a slightly longer route to see the mountains of Tennessee. I remember making chipped ham sandwiches in the backseat and drinking pop-and never once feeling like I was missing out because we weren't stopping at McDonald's for take out. I remember stopping at a really special McDonalds where the Golden Arches spanned over the highway. I remember learning to both appreciate and tolerate my family-and in return I think they learned to appreciate and tolerate me. No fancy DVD players for this family, just good old family torture-I mean, fun!

How did you decide on the name for your blog?

I've always wanted to be a Disney princess (Belle, to be precise) and what better way to tell my story than starting at the beginning like any good fairy tale..."Once Upon A Time..."

What is your favorite place to go out to eat?

The Olive Garden for salad and breadsticks, usually consumed with a bottle of wine alone at a table while reading a book. Yes, I like to dine alone, and no, it's not weird. Especially since I also happen to share the same meal with friends on a pretty regular basis too!

What is the last book you read?

"The Rainmaker" by John Grisham. I loved it until the end, and then it was a little disappointing. But still good enough to keep me up waaaaay past my bedtime.

What is your favorite family tradition (new or old)?

The newest tradition seems to be gathering at my parent's new house every Saturday night for fishing on the pond and dinner. The funny part is, it's never a really big deal, and we never really plan on it, but somehow as the day starts drawing to a close we all suddenly decide it's time to go to "Bubbi's Big House" (as Jack has dubbed it-he calls my mom "Bubbi") and fish until it's too dark to see. Then we go and eat whatever mom has laying around the house.

I have started my own tradition that I hope to continue with my children (if and when that happens), which is Cookie Day. The last two years I have put aside a day in December for baking all Christmas goods, which get handed out to co-workers, neighbors, friends, etc. Some of them just get consumed as they bake, but the real fun is in the baking itself. Because I'm not a baker by any means, and where I go trouble (or at least a huge mess) generally follows. The day has produced some legendary stories and involved many of my family members, and-oh yeah-we end up with some pretty tasty treats too!

Here's the part where I'm supposed to tag someone else, but not many of my friends and family keep a blog! LOL So if you've read this and think it would be fun to answer, make sure you let me know, I'd love to read it!

As for me, I'm hoping this will help jumpstart the blog back up. The wedding planning is well on its way, the holidays are upon us, and I have a lot of stories to catch you up on, so see you soon...

Untitled and In Progress

2010-08-20T21:05:00.000-05:00

I'm at home alone tonight, a rare occasion now that Blake and I live together, and I had a "Eureka" moment.

I'm so lucky.

I'm so very loved, in love, taken care of, needed. I have a roof over my head. I have my best friend and soul mate by my side.

The last 6 months or so everything has gone by in such a blur. I haven't felt like myself-I didn't want to sing, to be outspoken, to be creative-I just was existing.

Tonight, I'm belting out Air Supply, Jason Mraz, and Martina McBride (thanks largely in part to an excellent Pinot Grigio) and wondering where the hell I've been. Where's the feisty, bull-headed, whimsical, loveable me that all who love me...well, know and love?

Well, she's been bogged down (as usual) with things WAY beyond her control and focusing too much on what she can't do and not enough on what she can.

So watch out. I'm back.

Once Upon A Time...

2010-07-14T21:21:00.000-05:00

I was single, lonely, lost, and convinced that I would remain so for the rest of my life. Then, one day, there was Blake.

And after surviving nearly two years of my constant stressing, overscheduling, nagging, and the general mayhem that is my life, Blake proposed.

And I accepted.

Which is a really nice way of saying he shocked me into silence for one of the few times of my life, I cried, and managed to squeak out a "YES!" before running around to every person I could find screaming "I'm engaged!!!!!"

And for those of you who haven't already heard, here's how it happened:

Since last year we had been planning a vacation with my parents to Hawaii (yes, I'm a very lucky girl, and yes, I have tried endlessly to thank them). Since Blake had taken me ring shopping in February, I suspected that a proposal might be in the works, but Blake kept insisting that the ring wasn't ready and Hawaii just wasn't the right time or place. Blake is, generally speaking, a terrible liar and if Christmas is anything to judge him by, he has a hard time holding on to presents and not just throwing them at me once he's gotten them. The girls at work kept telling me, "Oh, come on. Hawaii is the perfect place for a proposal." But I knew Blake, and I knew it wasn't happening.

Blake had made one request on the vacation, and that was for us to have one evening all to ourselves. He planned the whole thing-oceanside dining for two with a private waiter and a 7 course meal during sunset. When the waiter brought out dessert, a selection of sorbets, I saw perched on top a Ring Pop, and I started laughing. I had always joked with Blake that I didn't really need a diamond, he could propose to me with a Ring Pop and I would say yes-I just wanted to marry him!! Well, that served me right. Blake took my hand and said, "I really wanted to propose here in Hawaii, but the ring just wasn't ready. I promise that I will upgrade that Ring Pop soon." I laughed (only a little disappointed) and kissed him, telling him of course I knew he would and I didn't care, as long as he wanted to marry me. He smiled at me and we talked a little more as we ate our dessert. When we were as full as we could be the talk turned again to marriage and Blake looked at me and said, "You know, I don't think I can wait." He got up and walked around our table, pulling something out of his pocket. "I think I need to upgrade that ring right now." Then he fell to one knee and proposed...

and I said nothing!! For once I was completely shocked into silence, tears streaming down my face. He slid the ring on my finger as I nodded vigorously, and then finally managed to squeak out a surprised "YES!"

Well of course the rest is engagement history. We celebrated that night and haven't really stopped celebrating since. Here's the best part-he really did completely fool me! He took my parents out MONTHS ago for dinner to ask their blessing, and arranged the whole proposal with my dad. My father, who has as big a mouth as I do, managed not to tell me or my mother what was going on (although he did manage to tell just about everyone at the convention were with in Hawaii). He had faked emails to our insurance person about the ring in case I saw anything, and the ring was in the fireproof safe under our bed for quite some time. He even got it to Hawaii in his carry-on...the one we had stashed all our food in! The day of the proposal he accidentally showed me a picture of the ring on his iPhone as we were flipping through shots of Hawaii-but I was so convinced that the ring was still at the store that I just wrote it off as the picture he took when we went shopping in February.

So the point is...I'm getting married ya'll!!! Bring on the wedding plans, the dresses, the stresses, and the I Do's-I'm ready for my happily ever after =)

The Peanut Butter Jar Debate

2010-05-27T13:55:00.000-05:00

I knew that moving in together would present new hurdles for me and Blake. We both have been single and living alone for so long...how could we not develop some habits that would seem downright silly to each other? For instance, I tend to leave half empty glasses wherever they are. For days at a time. When I finally realize they need cleaned they usually look like a science experiment, but I just dump it down the disposal, throw it in the dishwasher, and hope for the best. Blake seems to find this unusual and disguting to say the least (so do I, but I guess not enough to change the habit). And apparently I never eat restaraunt leftovers, which I didn't realize until Blake started eating them. "Hey, I was saving that!" "Really? Because it's been in here for a month." I guess you could say that's one of his quirks-he'll eat anything. He thinks he's impervious to any food generated illness.

Blake, on the other hand, is of the opinion that if you use it everyday it doesn't need to go in the cupboard or pantry. So at his apartment nothing was in the cabinets, and I think milk only made it in the fridge because he likes it cold. Needless to say I nipped this one in the bud as soon as we moved in. I took over unpacking and organizing the kitchen immediately and got it all in the cabinets before he could claim counter-space for say...peanut butter.

Fast forward a few weeks.

Blake has been wonderful about trying to keep up with my constant rearranging of the kitchen, since we keep finding more kitchen stuff as we unpack. Most of his things end up back in the cupboard they belong in when he's done. There was just one teeny tiny little thing that was driving me a little crazy...

We have two peanut butter jars. A very large fat-free version and a small regular version. Blake uses the fat-free PB on his morning toast every morning. Every morning he would stack the very large jar back in the pantry on top of the much smaller regular jar. Every morning after he left and I started to fix my breakfast I would inevitably knock into the stack and send both jars flying (thank God for plastic). I would restack them with the large peanut butter on bottom and go about my day. The next morning, there it would be again-the large PB jar taunting me from the top of the little one.

Finally one morning I opened the pantry and saw the jars, stacked big jar on top of little, and turned to face Blake.

"Why do you stack the big peanut butter jar on top of the little peanut butter jar?" (*I had already had my morning coffee and this was said with some actual decency and more than a little curiousity)

"BECAAAUUUSE! It's REALLY HARD to put everything AWAY when I use it EVERY SINGLE DAY and I'm not LEAVING IT ON THE COUNTER and then I have to MOVE THE OTHER JARS OUT OF THE WAY and I'M TRYING REALLY HARD HERE!!!!"

I'm probably a really terrible girlfriend, but I laughed.

And then I moved the little peanut butter jar to the bottom shelf, out of sight and away so that he had one less thing to have to remember. Because he is trying so very hard to put up with my constantly changing demands and kitchen organization. Because he is more than patient with my mercurial nature and unpredictable whims. And because even though I don't want the peanut butter jar on my counter, I don't want him to have to change who he is completely for me or anyone (and I still don't want the peanut butter jar on my counter).

Epilogue

Two days later...

I open the pantry door to retrieve something for dinner and see, once again, that oversized PB jar on top of the ridiculously small one. I turn, hands on hips, to face Blake, who says, "What?!"

I reach into the pantry and remove the large jar, a million variations of "Haven't we already discussed this..." running through my head and ready to burst out of my mouth. As I lift the jar, I see a small sticky note attached to the jar below:

I love you :$

(that's the emoticon Blake gave me...he says I have a million dollar smile and that's why he fell in love me. I know, it's disgusting isn't it? I love it!)

I think when I turned around my face must have frozen somewhere between "I can't believe you stacked these jars like this AGAIN after I MOVED that little one for you!" and "I can't believe I'm such a jerk to complain about stupid peanut butter jars". Blake nearly fell over laughing, and then wrapped me in his arms and said with a big grin on his face, "I've been waiting two days for you to find that."

Which pretty well ended the peanut butter jar debate.

Turning Two...and Other Milestones

2010-05-20T13:26:00.000-05:00

My nephew Jackson turned two last week! I honestly can't believe how much time has flown...I remember getting the phone call (as I was speeding through OK to try and make it for the birth) that Jackson James had entered the world. That news changed the course of my life. Up to that point I had been seriously considering (and even planning) to move back to New York City to try and make a career as an actress. The moment I laid eyes on that beautiful little boy I knew I could never again make the choice to be away from my family. It was always hard when I was on tour to be missing important family events (birthdays, weddings, holidays), but I could always justify it with the thought that everyone knew and understood that my job had different demands than the average 9-5 gig. But when I started to think ahead (and BINGO-that was milestone #1 for me, actually thinking further ahead than the next 6 months), and I started to imagine explaining to little Jack why I missed Christmas...or his birthday...or his graduation...

It just wasn't worth it.

And that was the day I decided my life was going to be different. I decided that what was most important to me was the kind of LIFE I had, not the kind of JOB I had. My father has always told me that whatever I decide to do, I should do it with passion. I am passionate about my family. I complain about them, whine about them, give them a hard time, but at the end of the day I would rather have had a life full of family than anything else. I want to be cool Aunt Nikki, weird Aunt Nikki, fun Aunt Nikki-not absent Aunt Nikki.

My life turned around completely in a matter of 24 hours. The Monday morning Jack was born, I was merely Nikki, undecided. Monday evening I was Aunt Nikki, smitten and galvanized. I wonder if my nephew will ever know or understand what a wonderful birthday gift he was, and that if I spoil him rotten it is not just because that's my job but because he gave me such a wonderful gift. He gave me the life I always wanted by showing me the possibilities of family.

In the two years that have passed, Jack has grown from a fussy infant to a clever toddler. I suppose the same could probably be said for me. We've both done a lot of growing up over these last 24 months.

Happy birthday, Jack. And thank you :D

A Barrage of Bullets

2010-05-14T11:36:00.000-05:00

Since it's chaos around my house, this will be less of a post and more of a random bulleted update. Enjoy!

I have turned over the keys to my apartment and I now live full time in the house! This has taken a considerable load off my shoulders. Blake will be completely moved in as of this weekend, and then we have no where else to go...
Which means we better start unpacking since currently the only clean spot in the house is the kitchen (suprisingly-only because Blake is a saint and does the dishes. Though I love him for many reasons, I have to say this one is in the top 3.) It is not very easy to take two complete households and cram them into one. Especially since we're both packrats and, let's face it, lazy. I would much rather do things like install my wine fridge or plant a garden than go through yet another box.
So I did. I planted our garden out back (with considerable help from Saint Blake, who somehow got a shovel full of dirt in the face for his troubles. Things like this tend to happen around me. Sigh.) I have rose bushes, rosemary, and several other things intended to attract butterflies and hummingbirds. So far all I have are ants and a really bad sunburn.
New rules have been instituted in our household to try and keep some sanity. Blake has only given me one rule. If we are in separate rooms and I happen to drop/kick/break/bump into something or otherwise make a loud crashing noise followed by an expletive, I am required to immediately yell "I'm okay!" assuming, of course, that I am okay. Apparently he thinks it's possible I could mortally wound myself during normal cleaning/unpacking activities and needs to know quickly whether to call 911 or just chalk it up to Nikki being Nikki.
My rules tend to be more numerous and specific. Like don't drape your work pants on my chair in the living room when you get home. Don't drape them on the couch either. I don't care if it's your couch. Yes, I do follow my own rules. My clothes are in a pile on the bedroom floor, NOT on the couch or chair. No, I don't want you to follow my example and start your own pile. Because I said so. Because I'm crazy and I think you're insane for wanting to stay with me when I am this crazy. Thank you for staying with me when I'm a nut. And thank you for not putting your pants on my chair or your couch.
Blake thought I would forget about ring shopping after we closed on the house, but really it's all I think about. I can't wait to marry him someday (if he still wants to marry me after all the grief I give him-life with me will be an adventure to say the least). I just wanted to put it out there that I still want to marry him. Not just because I want to plan a wedding (and boy do I want to plan a wedding) but because I love him more than anything in the world. Because he is my best friend. Because I can't imagine a world without him.

Thus ends the bullets. For now. Pictures are coming, I swear! And, I think it's safe to assume, there will be plenty more "We're Living Together-NOW WHAT?!" stories-there's no turning back now!

Moving Day...Again...Part 2

2010-04-29T14:58:00.000-05:00

I love my family. I love Blake's family.

I do not love moving.

You know how they say "Man plans, God laughs"? Well, God was roaring all day Saturday. I had the whole move planned. I knew what furniture I wanted moved and where I wanted it moved to. I knew what I wanted packed, and where I wanted those boxes. I knew what order we should hit our apartments in, and I knew what I wanted unloaded and where.

What I didn't plan on was 4 very opinionated, very enthusiastic men steamrolling over my pretty little plan with their dollies and packing tape. One little girl, even a very loud, very stubborn, very frustrated, and foot-stamping little girl, could hardly be noticed by the all-mighty quadrangle of alpha males that found themselves bonding in my living room and garage.

It mattered not that I mentioned (yelled, even) that I only wanted my furniture moved out of my apartment since I didn't have to be out for another week. Blake, Albert (his brother-in-law), Pat (Blake's dad), and my dad swept in like a tornado and grabbed whatever was within reach to toss in the truck.

Once at the house I managed to get the majority of the boxes and furniture in the rooms I meant to, and the guys (seeing my red face and sensing a breakdown of Mount Vesuvius proportions) actually listened to me. There was the small incident where they tried to hook up my washer and found the hoses had corroded onto the taps (and leaked to boot). My dad may have gotten a bit vigorous with his wrench and slightly bent the pipe out of the wall (plumber fixed it in about an hour yesterday). There was also the hour spent putting together the new bed frame-no headboard or footboard, just a frame-a project I started that was quickly taken over by-I mean assisted by-Pat and dad. There was a lot of measuring and hammering and debating and Corona (for me) involved.

My mother says it was fun for the two families, a real bonding experience. I think they all bonded over my exploding head.

In any case, we're moved in (mostly) and beginning to unpack (a collaborative process that may take another year to complete). My temper has mostly subdued (due to the fact that I got Blake to agree to hiring movers the next time no matter what-as much as I love volunteers, I'd rather save our relationship and spend money on people I can force to listen to me). Now if I could just find a clear bit of couch to sit on, it might actually start to feel like home.

Moving Day...Again

2010-04-23T15:30:00.000-05:00

Here we go again! Once more I'm moving...leaving my tiny apartment and moving in with Blake into our own home. It really is becoming a home already, even if we aren't living in it yet. The main rooms are painted, repairs have been made, some old features stripped down, and some new things installed. I, of course, have grand plans to continue renovating (a kitchen/wet bar backsplash is on the horizon...), but this week the majority of the work has stopped so we could clean up. Here's a rundown of what we've accomplished in the last month and half:

repaired the back fence (due to a "privacy issue" with our neighbor, this was high priority)
painted the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, laundry room, and living room, including the 20+ foot wall (which I painted because Blake is afraid of heights-actually he's afraid of falling, and he could have done it but it would have taken a week to get the first coat of paint on because he can't look down when he's on the ladder...)
stripped the large mirror doors off the master closet (I may not have informed Blake before doing this...)
removed the tacky shower doors from the master bath (I DEFINITELY did not inform Blake before starting this project, but got the point of no return and then asked for help. I was determined to get rid of those things.)
painted almost all the ceilings
installed a double curved shower rod in the master bath (it's AWESOME)
installed shelves in the garage
BUILT shelves in the garage (my father bought me a saw and let me use it. I can't wait to start another project with it!!!)
tiled our kitchen floor (I can't take any credit for this other than I asked Blake to do it. It took the better part of a month of weekends, but he ripped up the old linoleum, cleaned the cement, cut and laid and grouted the tiles. It looks amazing, and he still wants to live with me, so I guess it wasn't that atrocious of a request...although I probably won't be asking any favors any time soon...)

When I say we built shelves in the garage, I mean my father heard me say we were looking at hanging shelves for a portion of the garage and he returned from Home Depot with wood, nails, screws, braces, and a saw and decided that right then and there I would have garage shelves. Were shelves on my to do list that day? Nope. But my daddy took the day off to help his little girl in her new house, and who was I to argue with whatever he wanted to do? Besides, they would have been on the "to do" list at some point. And, I might add, we did not argue once while building them. It may have had something to do with the saw I was wielding...but I think I'd rather chalk it up to our healthy father-daughter relationship.

I have taken numerous "before" photos, but wouldn't you know I haven't had a moment at home to upload them to the computer? Plus, I have to start taking the "after" photos tonight before we move in all our furniture...which will drastically change the way the place looks too. I'm so excited about having a place that's ours, and I'm determined to make it everything I/we want (within reason. I'm still nixing the Superman mural in the "gameroom" I promised Blake he could have.)

I also have some wonderful "what I've learned in my first month as a homeowner" stories, like how our postal delivery man is actually afraid of the dog next door (I had to distract the poor blind dog while the postman snuck behind him to deliver the mail), but those definitely deserve their own blog post. In the meantime, keep me, Blake, and our families in your thoughts and prayers this weekend as we once again move mountains...I mean apartments...

Takin' A Break

2010-03-30T21:36:00.000-05:00

I don't know how I can make this any clearer:

Being a grown-up is HARD.

Why was I in such a hurry to move out of my parent's house, where I lived rent free and my dad filled the beer fridge weekly? Why did I think it was so important to get a "real" job when, as an actress, I was required to only work 5 hours a day and go to amazing parties afterwards? Why oh why did I think buying a house with my boyfriend would far outweigh living in separate apartments when buying the house meant that we would be managing three households, two families, one dog, and a partridge in a pear tree?

I might be exaggerating a bit. We don't actually have a partridge.

I know it sounds like I'm complaining, but I've already had a glass of wine and I'm well into my second. I'm just mildly cranky. I absolutely love our new house. I do. I love working on it and dreaming about it and spending every weekend there. I don't love coming home to a small disaster of an apartment. I've completed neglected my actual living space, so there is a trail of laundry piling up from the front door to the bedroom. Dirty dishes were piled mile high in my sink until Blake took pity on me and did my dishes last night. Random knick knacks are strewn across the floor wherever they happened to last fall, since these days I generally am only home long enough to strip off my paint covered clothes and fall into bed (my parents are reading this right now and thinking, so what's new?).

It's all completely worth it. I'm going to be living with the only man who could possibly put up with me in a house we are quickly making our own. That's the light at the end of the tunnel.

But DAMN, why's it gotta be so hard?

(Insert cliches about how working hard for the things that matter blah blah blah. Pour more wine, talk less cliches.)

The OTHER Man In My Life

2010-03-15T17:13:00.000-05:00

This weekend Blake and I drove up to Kansas to spend a little time with my nephew, who will be 2 years old soon! It's so wonderful and strange to watch him as he grows. I imagine my awe will triple when I have my own children, but it is nice that I have this remarkable little man to observe and love on. Actually, nice doesn't even begin to describe it. Blow my mind is more like it.

He's such a complete little person already, at 22 months. He has an active imagination that I only wish I could see more fully. He understands just about everything you ask him, and even makes little jokes. We were sitting together watching TV when I felt a tell-tale rumble from his bottom, and I said, "Jack, did you fart on me?" He actually giggled and said in a sing-song-I-know-I'm-gonna-lie voice "Noooo...." Maybe my favorite moment all weekend was at the mall when we rode the elevator for the millionth time and Sara finally said "Enough." Jack insisted on riding one more time and when Sara counted to 3 he merely marched over to the button, pressed it, and turned around crossing his arms as if to say, "So what?"

We cooked imaginary meals together, read the same 3 books a million times, destroyed and put back together puzzles, looked for Tate (the dog-every five minutes Jack looks up and says "Tate?" and won't resume his activity until he has seen the dog with his own eyes), and shared pizza. We rode swings, watched cartoons, and made up funny games chasing each other. I became fluent in Jack-speak. Which is why I was absolutely mortified when I climbed up the stairs Sunday morning and was greeted with Jack walking right past me to the stairs to yell, "Blaaaake! Blaaaake!"

Actually, it's more like "Blay" which is close to his word for "play" and "bottle" ("bay" which isn't a bottle at all, it's his sippy cup), but still! I've only been waiting his WHOLE LIFE to hear him say my name, and I get brushed aside for Blake! I admit, I don't blame him. Blake is a pretty awesome guy. I just don't think Blake's heart would break into a million pieces if Jack learned MY name first. I'm just saying.

The only thing that made me feel better and simultaneously worse was that he cried so hard when we left. Partly it was because he really wanted to go "Ooooouuuut!!" and for a ride, but when I talked to my brother later he said Jack was pretty upset that we actually left. I can tell already it's going to be terrible when we leave and he actually has the words to say "Don't go" or "Please can I come with you?"...

For now we'll just work on "Aunt Nikki". And trust me, that kid will get whatever he asks for.

No One Told Me Turning 30 Meant My Body Couldn't Keep Up Anymore

2010-03-11T13:36:00.000-06:00

Blake and I are now officially homeowners, which means...

I'm tired, sore, out of clean clothes and dishes, and completely unaware of what day of the week it is or what my real address is. I have spent hours painting, trimming, taping, cleaning, organizing, and fixing anything and everything in our new home. Not alone, for sure (our families have been a HUGE help), but apparently turning 30 activates something in your DNA that blocks your body from recovering as quickly as it did when you were 29 (or less). Poor Blake has spent the same hours ripping up linoleum (at my request...I wanted a tiled kitchen floor, not knowing that it would take superhuman strength and 3 full days just to get rid of the linoleum).

We have already discovered that a toilet won't stop running, our kitchen sink leaks and molded the cabinet, our closet door sticks, the construction people who worked on the house before we moved in left both our trash cans full to the brim, and our 80-year old next door neighbor wants us to fix the backyard fence asap because "it's a privacy issue" (she also has a diabetic cat and a blind dog in case you were wondering). We've left the back door unlocked at least once because we're too used to apartment living where you only have one entrance/exit to worry about. We managed to change the locks on the front door (replacing the old brass handle with a spiffy silver one) but discovered that the door, now brown, had once been painted robin's egg blue-on both sides. We know this because whoever painted it brown did not remove the handle to paint the door, and of course our new handle is not an exact match.

In other words, we are discovering the joys of being homeowners.

There are a few things that make the sore muscles and mold-induced headaches worth it. Our bedroom is a beautiful relaxing blue color and our master bathroom is on its way to being a spa-like haven. We found ceramic tile for 85 cents a square foot-and we should be able to lay it soon becuase the linoleum is almost gone. Blake's parents bought us a beautiful red rosebush for our backyard (and promised me cuttings from their rosemary bush to grow my own!!!). My parents brought us sandwiches, snacks, and beer to sustain us. And, most importantly, in two months I will be living full time with the man of my dreams in our beautiful new home.

Mold beware. Love is moving in soon. There is no room for you here :)

Best Saturday Yet

2010-02-22T17:05:00.002-06:00

Now don't jump to any conclusions, and don't get too excited (I'm talking mainly to myself here), but...

Blake took me ring shopping on Saturday!!!!!!!!!

I will try to relay the afternoon's events with as much calm and decorum as I can manage, but just know that on the inside I am giddy, absolutely GOOFY with excitement. After all, Blake and I have been talking about getting married for a long time now. As my father puts it, it has never been a question of "if" but of "when". Blake has been trying to pay off all his debts from his previous marriage, which I respect, before starting our new life together as man and wife, and he didn't want to ask me until that debt-free day was closer at hand. So I've been uncharacteristically waiting patiently, concentrating on the other exciting things going on in our lives and trying very hard not to picture myself in a flowy white dress gliding down an aisle on my father's arm to my rock star of a boyfriend so that I can call him husband...

I digress. All this talk of wedding makes me think of dresses and quite frankly I can't wait to try on every dress in the state.

So anyway, ring shopping. We had one failed attempt on Valentine's Day to look at engagement rings. What started out as a romantic gesture quickly became a disaster as we pulled into the Galleria parking lot only to realize that it was NBA All Star Weekend and most of the "stars" were shopping at the Galleria. Which meant half of Dallas was there NOT shopping but star-gazing. After fighting our way through the crowd the one store Blake was looking for turned out to be out of business. Not the best way to start out.

Then on the way to dinner we passed this 3 story building with a giant diamond ring in the window. I pointed it out to Blake and laughed, saying, "That's where we should have gone!" while inside I'm thinking "Three stories of diamond rings? Are you kidding me? I bite my nails. They won't let me try on rings in a store like that."

Turns out a store like that not only will let little old me try on diamond rings by the score, they will serve you coffee and water while you ogle their shiny shiny goods.

The store was Robbins Bros., and my advice is that if you are going to shop for an engagement ring this is the only place you should go. You can make an appointment with a personal shopper (which, of course, Blake did, ours was named Susie), and she meets you at the giant diamond ring with offers of coffee and water. Blake had emailed a list ahead of time of rings he thought I might like, and she immediately took us to the case that housed the most likely candidates.

And then she let me try on every ring in every one of the 20+ cases in the store. Big rings, little rings, wedding bands, three stone, pave, vintage, modern, classic, solitaire-you name it, they had it. When we finally settled on one-wait. We didn't settle. We-and by we I mean I-fell in love with a ring. So Susie shuttled us over to the "diamond education room" where we learned about cut, color, clarity, and something else c-related (I was in oooo shiny shiny mode, so this is the part where Blake was paying attention). THEN they ushered me out of the room so Blake could talk to her about his plans without me listening. Later he told me some of what they discussed, and Robbins Bros. helps with everything related to the wedding, even offering "proposal specialists" to help the less creative male propose in style.

All in all I left with diamond dreams in my eyes and head, and now I'm afraid Blake has no choice but to ask me soon or else watch me slowly slip into a wedding dream coma. When I conveyed this to him his response was, "You just have to forget about the ring. It won't be hard. As soon as we close on the house, poof! you'll forget you ever had diamonds on your hand."

It is safe to say that he still has some things to learn about me.

How Did You Spend Your Friday Night?

2010-02-19T20:27:00.000-06:00

Every once in a while I pat myself on the back because I've finally got my shit together. Besides the obvious good turn my life has taken since the Great Breakdown of 2007 (post breakup, pre-Blake), I'm generally more responsible and organized than ever before. I pay my bills weeks before they're due, I take my trash out regularly, and I manage to make my bed at least one week a month (come on, it's still me. Some things will never change.). I even know where my important paper work is-I have a file cabinet AND a fireproof safe. Impressed?

Don't be. Because this year when my W2 came I put it with all my other important papers at the time, which included the last two years income tax statements, last year's W2 from my work at Garland Summer Musicals, last 2 paystubs from last year, and everything else I needed not only to file my taxes but to give the bank for the loan for the house. And where is it now?

I still have the income tax statements, last year's W2 from my work at Garland Summer Musicals, last 2 paystubs from last year, and everything else I need to file my taxes and get the loan for the house. This year's W2?

Now would I be sitting here blogging about it if it was exactly where it was supposed to be?

So this quiet Friday night, in true Nikki-style, I have spent what should have been a stress-free, relaxing, possible craft-filled-wine-drinking-book-reading evening going through every single piece of paper in my apartment because the bank called today to inform me they hadn't asked before but is it possible to get a copy of this year's W2 to them by Tuesday to avoid delaying closing?

Thanks for the reality check. Good to know I still have room for improvement. =D

Live and Learn

2010-02-15T16:49:00.000-06:00

I'm thirty! I think I may be the only person I know who is excited to be leaving her twenties behind her for the next decade of adventures. I'm working on my own version of a list my friend Lauren did...but hers was a 30 by 30 list (30 things to do before she turns 30) and mine is going to be 30 FOR 30: Thirty things to accomplish for my thirties.

Today, though, I want to say goodbye to my twenties. I don't think I'll ever look back and say, wow, those were the best days. There was a lot of heartache and growing pains,but I want to celebrate them rather than look back with regret or sadness. It is the journey that makes us who we are, and I have had one wild ride. I was a professional actress/singer, a fiance, and an aunt. I traveled the country from coast to coast and visited several European countries. I lived in at least 4 different states, drove from Texas to Virginia to New York-more than once, and had a landlady named Helga who was about as German as they come. I have been to countless weddings, sang in 3 of them, and about as many baby showers. I have been unemployed, self-employed, and fully employed with benefits. I'm thinking there's not much I haven't done (although I know there's so much more to come!)

So here's some hard-won wisdom, 30 lessons by 30. Some practical, some entertaining, and all true:

It's okay if you don't wash dishes the night you mess them up, but washing them within 24 hours is a pretty good idea.
If you fail at #1, it's okay to throw the dishes out. Just buy cheap ones. Or paper. Or date someone who likes to do dishes.
409, Pledge, Spot Shot, and other cleaning sprays are excellent substitutes for bug killing spray (especially when you live alone with no boys nearby). Just keep a dust pan handy to scoop up the dead bug. And you also end up with clean carpets or walls. It's a win-win.
Do not try to pack wine with plastic corks in your suitcase. Regular corks will allow your wine to fly just fine, no exploding vintages or red soaked shoes. Plastic means you're getting a new wardrobe.
Do stay in touch with your high school friends. There's a reason you were friends back then, and (most of the time) it's nice to have someone who knew-you-when around when everyone else just knows-ya-now. And don't worry if it's ten years between get togethers-with the right friends you'll just pick up right where you left off.

Don't eat chicken in Mexico. Ever.
Don't drink the water either.
Saying "I love you" is not the same as meaning it.
Be open to possibilites. You are not limited to one single dream for life.
Being alone is better than being with someone who won't, or can't, love you the way you deserve. And you deserve to be loved well.
Your college degree does not define what job(s) you will have or what field you will work in, or even guarantee you success. That being said, it's totally worth every penny and every hour. Even if you never use it again.
After finally getting the college degree it will take approximately 7 years, several moves back in with the parents, a bad break-up, a totaled car, credit card debt, and six months of crying in your bedroom day and night for you to figure out who you are. And that euphoria will last about ten seconds before you realize that now you have to get off your butt and do something about it.
You can cook just about anything on a George Foreman Grill, including scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, and toast-at the same time!
Toothpaste is an excellent wall hole filler.
Being a creative thinker does not always mean not following directions. Sometimes someone already did the creative thinking for you and they are trying to save you the time of blowing things up or ruining your favorite cookie sheet by simply writing the process that worked.
Your parents will be right about a lot of things, but it's important to make sure you don't tell them that too often. They might get big egos and expect you to listen to them all the time.
Good things actually do come to those who wait. It helps if you try not to complain too much while waiting. This is something I am still working on.
The social hierarchy that began at recess and in the halls of elementary school doesn't change, just our perception of it and how we react to our place in that hierarchy. Nerds are still nerds and cheerleaders are still goodlooking but dimwitted. Obviously my perception hasn't evolved all that much.
It is not true that if you swallow gum it will take 7 years to digest. This is yet another myth perpetrated by parents to keep you in their intellectual power as long as possible.
It is universal that elder siblings feel that their younger siblings had it much easier (sort of like how our parents think we have it so much easier...). This is because it is, in fact, true.
Everyone's family is weird and dysfunctional. Some are just louder than others, and mine happens to be one of those. Still, in the end, being loud and weird and dysfunctional sure beats being boring.
There are 346 ways to break a wine glass. I personally have found them all.
Wine tags on your glasses don't work because the people who need them the most will have drunk too much to be paying any attention to the tag on the glass, and when they realize there is a tag designating the drink for a specific person it is likely they will spill the wine in an effort to figure out what the tag looks like and who belongs to it. This is a waste of perfectly good wine. Not that I know from personal experience. I'm just sayin'.
Just in case someone DOES spill red wine on your carpet, plain old regular salt will soak it up and leave no stain. This one I DO know from personal experience.
It's okay to ask for help. It's not like you're asking for a million dollars. Unless someone out there has a million to spare. In which case, I could use that too.
Be kind, be patient, be grateful. These things never go out of style, and you're never too old for them.
It is a fact of female life that you actually do have to wash you face every single night, even if you didn't wear makeup, if you want to avoid a week of pimples.
Choose your battles wisely and you will win the war. Ask my mother about my freshman year of college and the battle for the car. (I won.)
Call you mother. More importantly, call your father. His guilt trips are louder, longer, and harder to argue with.
Just be yourself, and realize that who that is will constantly change. The people who love you will ALWAYS love you, even when you don't know who you are. Trust them and yourself, and you'll be just fine.

Slipping Into Thirty

2010-02-15T12:21:00.000-06:00

Last week I turned 30...and somehow it just slipped right on by and never made it into my blog! Possibly it's due to the fact that the celebrations have lasted a week...I had a special dinner Friday night (2/5) with Blake's family, then a special dinner Saturday (2/6) with my family, including my cousin Steven who turned 26 the day after I turned 30. Then on my actual birthday Blake surprised me by taking a half day and delivering a dozen roses and Cheesecake Factory lunch to me (it bears repeating that I am blessed with the most amazing, attentive, thoughtful boyfriend ever).

The week went quickly due to the record breaking snow drama we had here, and then WHAM! it was Valentine's Day. Saturday Blake and I spend the day Valentining (couples massage at Massage Envy and dinner at the Melting Pot complete with a half dozen roses, a gift basket, and a bottle of wine). Sunday my brother and sister-in-law drove in for the big family celebration and they left me and Blake alone with my nephew for a whole glorious hour!!! I'm not sure if anyone realizes that was the BEST birthday present ever. He's at such a fun age! He does this thing when he's coloring where he sits back, purses his lips and puts a finger to them while contemplating his work. Then after a moment he raises the finger like a big number one and says "Aha!"-it totally cracks me up.

And now we're kind of back to normal, normal being "catch-up mode" and me looking at 3 blogs I've started and thinking I should finish this week. Especially since they have to do with turning 30. And that's old news now.

Pour Some Sugar On Me

2010-02-03T08:22:00.000-06:00

Remember how I said I was learning to quilt? With my good friend Alicia's help this

turned into this

and then with a little bit of help from last year's birthday present (an awesome Singer Confidence...I know, I'm totally a craft nerd for being excited about my sewing machine) those colorful strips became

A super fancy (and sharp) rotary cutter (that's craft nerd speak for a pizza cutter for fabric) gave me these

Aren't you impressed so far? The girl who cooks with a dash of this and a dash of that has actually followed directions so far!

Now the first glimpse of what's to come...

And after some patient sewing together of each square into a row, and then two rows together I had this

(I had to hang the strip on my shower curtain rod, so the red behind the squares is my shower curtain and not my nifty handywork. That's what happens when you live in a teeny one bedroom apartment and the longest rod in your house is in the shower.)

And FINALLY, 11 hours, 2 glasses of wine, and 1 Blake-free evening later...

It's possible I'm exaggerating the 11 hours. But not by much.

How cool is my quilt?!

It's not quite a quilt yet. This is only the top. I now have to make the back of the quilt, line the inside with batting, bind it, and then quilt it.

Apparently this is not yet a quilt.

Quilting is the stitching that goes all over the blanket and gives it that puckery look. Huh. Never knew that before. That's at least another 4 glasses of wine and several chapters of a Harry Potter audiobook.

The directions/pattern/tutorial Alicia chose for our quilt along can be found at the Old Red Barn Co.'s blog. The link on the side called "How to Make a Quilt" gives you all the direction you need. It's totally my kind of pattern...the kind that emphasizes it's okay to make mistakes, and every quilt will come out a little different. And I suggest, if you try this time consuming but rewarding project, that you follow the buddy system. It's been a lot of fun emailing back and forth with Alicia and meeting up on my day off to sew and chat. It's also nice to have a human being to ask all my silly questions, like "How do I use this machine again?"

Some things never change I guess ;)

The Joining Together of These Two Households...

2010-02-02T13:29:00.000-06:00

The hunt for our first home is almost complete! We made an offer on the townhome in Carrollton, they made a counter, and we accepted. We walked through the inspection (a 2 1/2 hour ordeal), decided which repairs we wanted to ask for, and signed about a thousand things. Now we're just waiting to hear back from the seller.

And since I love to make my life complicated, we're also opening a joint checking, trying to combine our car insurance, and basically take everything that we have two of and make just one. This is supposed to make our lives easier and more affordable. What it is currently doing is giving me a headache.

But Blake is wonderful. Where I freak out and lose my temper, he calmly and gently presses on. He writes the emails that I am too stressed to write. He makes the calls I could not make without yelling. He lets me rant and then says, "Whatever you want, Princess". I absolutely cannot imagine going through this with anyone else. He is without a doubt my partner for life.

For now we are just waiting...waiting...waiting to hear back from the seller on our repair list. This home shopping thing is NOT as much fun as HGTV would make you think it is. On TV you pick a house and at the end of a half hour you sign and they hand you keys. There should be a disclaimer that the half hour is actually several months condensed into 24 minutes plus commercials.

So here's to more waiting...

Oh, The Drama...

2010-01-25T16:39:00.000-06:00

As I mentioned last week, Blake and I are buying a condo. This sounded so simple when we decided to do it. Rent an apartment (where I would most likely murder him within the first 6 months due to lack of personal space) and lose any money we dumped into rent OR buy a condo with room to spare and this lovely little thing called equity? No brainer. (PS-I wouldn't really murder Blake. But I do like my space.)

So off we went to our financial advisor who set us up with a Private Banker who set us up with a mortgage originator. Then we had to get a realtor who set us up with the website, viewings, the comps, and iPhone app (there really is one of those for everything). Week one of the condo search wasn't so much a search as a big meet & greet of all the players we needed to make this happen. And then finally the search!

This was the part I was most excited about-the big search. Roaming through other peoples' houses and imagining what my life and my furniture would be like there, picking out in my head the colors I would paint the walls...only these condos were TRASH. Dogs had chewed the molding from knee-height and lower in one place. Another had amazing granite kitchen countertops...but they had awful shag carpeting EVERYWHERE. Some had no living space, some had tiny kitchens, some had no parking, and all of them were painted a dingy white. It was depressing to walk through them.

I finally found one I liked and brought Blake along to look. It was smaller than we had hoped for, but it was one of the largest we had looked at in our price range. In 2 weeks I looked at over a dozen condos and knew that unless something absolutely amazing came on the market, this condo was our best option. Plus it had a kick-ass kitchen.

Then the drama.

First came the inspection report. Oh boy. There was a lot of things that needed to be fixed. Then the realtor for the seller told us that the current owner was very close to a short sale and was hoping to have someone assume the loan. Which meant we could either assume her loan or get our own, but either way there was very little negotiating room. Then, after we agreed to another visit, had our realtor bring a contract, got pre-approved for our loan, and figured out all the details...someone else made an offer on the condo. My heart broke. I already knew where all the furniture was going! Blake had promised me a new sink and countertops! I was going to paint!

As if that weren't bad enough, our realtor hit us with the worst news yet: she had pulled comparative sales for the area and they were selling for almost $7K less than the asking price for this condo. Oh man. We knew right away we didn't want to be anywhere near this situation. With sinking hearts we agreed to go look at a condo I had been saving as a backup. It was larger condo but at the very high end of our budget.

And of course we fell in love with it.

So the good news is today we are signing the contract to put an offer in on our first home together! It's so true that when God closes a door he opens a window. This new place is big enough and nice enough that should anything happen-we lose a job, we have a baby, the economy tanks (again)-we will be able to live there comfortably and happily for several years. All our stuff will fit, there is a nice 2 car attached garage, and the neighboorhood is a nice suburb centrally located between both our families.

Wish us luck, friends and family! Today the bidding war begins!

Love on a Dime

2010-01-21T14:23:00.000-06:00

Blake and I are on a serious pay-off-all-debts-buy-a-condo-please-let's-get-married-in-the-next-decade budget, but that doesn't mean we still can't go out and have a little fun. Take Tuesday night, for example.

Right down the road from me is a dollar theatre where every Tuesday night is 75 cent night. They show pretty good movies, too...2012, Zombieland, and Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs were all playing the night we went. They don't have stadium seating, but you can hold hands over any old armrest, so who cares?!

Here's my idea of a great date night:

Pop a bag of popcorn and put it in a ziploc baggie. Stuff your biggest purse with the popcorn, some candy, and bottled water. Raid your quarter jar for six quarters. Head on out to see your movie of choice (I chose Ninja Assassin-it was something Blake wanted to see that we missed at the big theaters. Lots of blood. Lots of swords. Not much story. But hey, I got to spend 2 uninterrupted hours with Blake, which makes anything worth my time). I guess it's not so much love on a dime as it is a quarter, but it's sure nice to spend a night out and not feel the pinch in your wallet the next day!

In other news...

Blake and I have been condo hunting and found one we like. Good location for our commutes, nice complex, nice size for just the two of us. We went to the mortgage guy last night to get pre-approved and now we just have to make an offer. I knew turning thirty this year would mean I'd be doing some serious growing up, and there's nothing like signing a million waivers, copying five ID's, checking credit scores, meeting with a hundred bankers, and discussing site inspections to make it real.

ALSO! In all this free time I have now I've been able to start a project that I've been dying to do. My friend Alicia taught herself how to quilt from online tutorials, and she has agreed to teach me by doing a quilt-along. It's so very "Little House On the Prairie" I can hardly stand it, but I'm super excited and spent 2 hours picking out fabrics with my mom at JoAnne Fabric. The name of the quilt is Sugar + Spice + Everything Nice but I think I'm going to call mine Pour Some Sugar On Me. I'm gonna be a Rock Star Quilter ;)

Public Service Announcement: World Peace

2010-01-14T16:36:00.002-06:00

I would like to take a moment to discuss a pressing issue. It's a problem that affects us all and crosses the lines of age, gender, and race. Should this problem be solved, I believe it could lead to an economic regrowth, world peace, and a significant decrease in domestic violence.

"What," say you, the eager reader and peace lover, "what is the key to this happiness you speak of?"

Friends, family, fellow commuters...

Please learn to merge.

The ability to merge is becoming a lost art, and my fellow commuters seem intent to prove this everyday. Ideally, merging onto the highway should be like two sides of a zipper smoothly interlacing so that the zipping motion is seamless, uninterrupted, and swift. It should be so easy that it becomes a non-thought, each piece finding it's perfect fit among its peers.

Instead every morning I witness how little we have actually evolved as morning commuters jockey for position in line. Compare a group of cars merging onto a busy highway to a group of first graders lining up for recess. Ah, how much it says about us grown ups that the first graders do it better. They manage to get into a straight line from total randomness with no slamming brakes, burning tires, middle fingers, or expletives. Granted, their education has not progressed that far yet, but you get the point.

Learn to merge. Learn to find your place in line and hold your tongue ("Goddamn it, it's my effing turn" never got anyone anywhere faster. I know, I've tried it.). Resist the urge to play chicken with the semi that is barreling down the highway at 80 mph. Try your hardest to unglue the front end of your car from the helpless, hopeless driver's rear-end in front of you. Please keep all 10 fingers on the wheel.

And please get out of my way and let me merge.

Welcome to Once Upon A Time...2010!

2010-01-11T15:34:00.000-06:00

Hello again friends and family! I have not fallen off a cliff or in the toilet, nor have I been swept off to some faraway desert island by the love of my life (only metaphorically speaking). I have not died of pnuemonia (though I lost several months of my life to bronchitis) and I have not joined a cult of vampires living among humans...wait, that's almost the plot of Twilight. Mmmmm...Edward...sigh. I digress.

I have been too busy for my own good, which is part of my extremely loveable personality (wink, wink). I beg forgiveness (grovel, grovel) and offer these feeble excuses for where my time, attention, and often my health have gone...

Overtime-The Sound of Music (I played Maria and yes it was amazing and no I won't ever do it again)-Blake-Moving Out (NOT the musical, ME actually moving OUT of my parent's house into my own place)-Blake-Trying to be a good Aunt Nikki-Weddings, weddings, weddings (why does everyone I know pick the same year to get married? I'm going broke buying gifts and dresses!)-Blake-My first straight play no music at all called Don't Dress For Dinner-Massive Halloween party-Blake-Getting bronchitis and missing Thanksgiving through most of December because all I could do was sleep-Christmas New Year's Back to work already?!-and Blake.

By the way, have I mentioned I'm still dating Blake?

So that's 2009 in review. Too much of not enough time. This is why in 2010 I will be concentrating on some things I love MORE than theatre, and take a little break from singing and dancing. Of course Blake is first on the list, but high up there on the list is my nephew, my family, friends who have been MORE than sorely neglected, and hobbies that I have been wanting to pursue and-GUESS WHAT-didn't have time for. Like this blog.

So keep an eye out. It's a new year (the year I turn THIRTY ya'll!), a new attitude, and a brand new beginning. I can't wait to see what stories unfold...and this year, you all will be the first to know them =)

Delete

2009-09-10T14:54:00.004-05:00

I'm uploading my considerable collection of pictures to an online album, and my largest collection is from my days on tour with Oklahoma! This means a lot of pictures of me with Ben-in Cincinnatti, Key West, Boston, Philadelphia...you get the picture. As I drag the pictures to my photobucket account I find myself deleting Ben. Me and Ben at the New Orleans Aquarium (pre-Katrina, btw)-DELETE. Me and Ben at the Golden Gate Bridge-DELETE. Me and Ben doing anything-DELETE.

I no longer hurt when I look at those pictures. I do not regret my time with him or the experiences I had with him. I am even grateful to him, because had I not loved Ben I could not love Blake as well as I do. I am sad, though, looking at how much of my experience was colored by Ben, by how much I isolated myself with him. When I delete Ben I have to delete Coronado Island, Disney Land, and the Freedom Trail too. There's a whole period of my life-a very important, exciting, and once-in-a-lifetime period-that I allowed to belong to someone else. I have my photos and my memories, but for each picture and each city I can tell you exactly when, where, why, and how Ben and I fought. Even when Ben is not in the picture, I can see him in my smile. I am disappointed in myself that I did not fight to make that experience what it should have been for me-I was too busy trying to make it right for him.

The last year with Blake has been, hands down, the best year of my life. I have no doubt in my mind that I am at last with the man I was meant to grow old with, the man who was meant to be my partner in everything. My relationship with Ben left scars that have mostly healed, although there are days he still rears his head in my heart-mostly because I'm finally seeing the things that I did to contribute to our problems and fights. It's so much easier to think about how he hurt me and how I didn't deserve it than to face the fact that my quick temper and sassy mouth may have hurt him just as bad.

So now I am left with days wishing I could just DELETE Ben all together. Some day my daughter or son will come to me and ask how I knew Blake was "the one", and how do I explain that it's because of Ben? How do I explain that I don't think I would have recognized the gentle, adoring, funny, smart, selfless man who now holds my heart if I had never loved another less worthy? My gratitude and love and sadness are all intermingled, and some days it's next to impossible to untangle them. On good days I recognize that they don't have to be.

The other days I'll just continue to DELETE.

unremarkable

2009-09-08T16:38:00.002-05:00

Now that I've taken a break from the X, I can blog about some other things that I've been meaning to for ages. Like Blake's sister, Brooke.

Brooke has a Christian band that performs all over the Dallas area called unremarkable-and they are anything but. Brooke writes all the songs and (for the purposes of this blog) more importantly designs shirts for the band touting their first CD, Angels Exist. Brooke and her husband Albert have the biggest hearts, and they have dedicated a portion of the profits from the shirts to go to a sweet little girl named Zala. Zala has a rare disease that affects her brain and nervous system, causes serious seizures, and requires expensive procedures and equipments that her single mother can't always afford.

So here's the easy and awesome part. Follow this link and this link and take a look at the REALLY cute shirts that will make great Christmas gifts, birthday gifts, or "I really like that t-shirt and I need one for myself now" gifts. They're comfy, cute-and you can feel good about doing a small part to help a deserving little girl.

While you're perusing their website make sure to check out some of their music, and if you want a shirt or CD and don't use PayPal, just let me know and Brooke will help work out something for you. Happy Shopping!!

Xing The X

2009-09-03T12:06:00.003-05:00

All good things must come to an end.

In this case, they came to a great end because I finally get to eat potatoes again, which rocks my world. My pursuit for a body worthy of P90X, however, has come to a semi-screeching halt.

So many factors came into play-first the practical. I work 9 AM to 7 PM Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Which meant my choices were A) get up at 5:30 every morning, do the 90 minutes of intense workout then work for 10 hours or B) get up an hour later, do all my daily chores (washing dishes, laundry, etc.), work 10 hours, come home to workout then crash into bed and start all over again. Neither was appealing, and neither was really working. It is very depressing doing nothing but working and working out.

Second-the relationship saver. I was becoming a royal carb-craving, sleep-deprived, chicken-stuffed pain in the rear. Blake has now officially seen every mood swing I could possibly have, and we are now well informed that during pregnancy if I crave something, I should probably have it for the sake and sanity of all involved. Even I didn't like me, I could see the miserable face I was making everytime I passed a french fry joint and it wasn't pretty. If I didn't X the X soon, I think I might have been Xed.

I'm not completely giving up. I finally came to the conclusion that A) I don't necessarily need a 6 pack and 3% body fat to be happy with my body and B) I needed to follow a system that worked for me all the time, not just 90 days. I did enjoy a lot of the workouts, I DID NOT enjoy them after a 10 hour work day. Here's my new plan:

Run at least 2 miles at least 3 days of the work week (M, T, Th, F) before work, and if ambitious, I will do the Ab Ripper X video. Wed and Sat I will continue with some of the videos (I especially liked the Arm and Shoulder video, I'm going to try and work that in a couple more times a week eventually), and on Sundays I'll stretch with Blake. The nice thing about doing the X full out for two weeks is that I've been somewhat detoxed-my belly is already flatter, my clothes are fitting better, and I've learned the value of watching the portions and proportions of what I eat and cook. I'm continuing to follow the basic outlines of the diet, but with much needed carb modifications. I might not be grabbing a Krispy Kreme for breakfast every morning, but I'm definitely going to make potatoes with dinner on occasion.

All this means that now I can concentrate on more important things...like what kind of potatoes I can make for dinner...

Wouldn't You Rather?

2009-08-28T17:24:00.003-05:00

Ugh. This week has been so frustrating. The X is literally taking up all of my time. I work 9 AM to 7 PM Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday-which means on those days I come home, pop in the dvd, workout, and don't get to relax until I'm done at 9:30 or 10:00. I hadn't been sleeping that well and finally figured out it's because my adrenaline is going beserk until 11 or 11:30-which makes getting up any earlier than 7 very very difficult (plus, let's face it, I'm not a morning person anyway). Blake keeps telling me that the first two weeks are the hardest. I believe him. I just keep waiting for him to say, I meant the first 2 months were the hardest.

Okay, if I'm going to be really honest...

I hate the diet. Who thought that too much meat would be a bad thing? After two weeks of almost nothing but, I would kill for a Krispy Kreme...or biscuits and gravy...or french fries (ooo, french fries). Every trip to the grocery store is torture. In order to buy my whole wheat bagels I have to walk past the cookies. Low fat cheese is right next to the forbidden cream cheese, and my french vanilla creamer sits on the bottom shelf of my fridge patiently waiting to fulfill it's destiny of turning my morning coffee into creamy latte goodness. Every morning I have to ignore it's pitiful stare as I reach instead for the skim milk. Oh sigh.

No wonder people on a diet are always so cranky.

Every night I drive home, wondering, "Why oh why did I decide to do this?" Every night my reason walks through the door and wraps me in his arms and inspires me to be the best me I can be, in every way possible.

Just don't ask me to choose between him and a Krispy Creme for another 88 days.

2009-08-24T13:26:00.002-05:00

The X Day 4 is 90 minutes of Yoga, much of which I had to modify or skip all together seeing as how my legs were still mostly jello. The last 45 minutes is almost all stretching, and the next day it paid off. I was able to get out of bed and walk to the bathroom without groaning, cursing, or clutching on to furniture or walls for support.
Day 5 consisted of Leg and Back exercises, which I also made it through pretty well. I skipped the Ab Ripper video all together this day since I was past the point of exhaustion. All this protein is great for the fat burning, but man the lack of carbs is killing my energy. I dream about bagels and warm rolls with butter and potatoes of every kind at night. Sigh.

Day 6-Kenpo. This was by far the most fun. Kenpo is a little like Tai-Bo, but of course it has a Tony Horton twist. It's a lot of self-defense moves "aerobicized". Though easier that the Plyometrics, it is still NOT for the fainthearted. I made it through pretending alternately that I was either The Bride from Kill Bill or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I ninja'd the crap out of my living room.

AND BREATHE-Day 7, the stretch video!!! Blake and I skipped today all together in favor of a little down time. We spent a good deal of the afternoon cooking meals for the next week together. I've never been much for having a partner in the kitchen, but I loved having him there with me. It made the prep time go by so fast, and it made it seem less like we were cooking healthy meals and more like we were on a date. It helps that I'm head over heels in love with the guy.

In other news, I will be going in for a CAT scan on Wednesday-I've been having weird recurring UTI symptoms and the doctor is pretty sure I have kidney stones, but wants a scan to confirm. There are several other possible diagnoses and of course they want to rule out anything that might be more threatening. More updates on this as I get them =D

OH, and I do have a life outside of P90, and you will get to hear about it tomorrow since the workouts are all the same for the next 3 weeks. And, as I keep promising (even though I have yet to deliver) I WILL be posting pictures. Til then, my friends... :)

Nikki's Chicken Meatballs

2009-08-20T11:39:00.002-05:00

A few notes and disclaimers:

I am an "eye-ball it" kind of cook, which means I don't measure a whole lot. The only thing I measured in the recipe below was the chicken (portions are everything on the P90X diet). Feel free to adjust the seasonings according to your taste.

I sauteed my meatballs in fat-free, low-sodium chicken broth since I'm fat restricted (this is a useful tip from the P90X nutrition book), but given the choice I probably would have used a little olive oil instead. However, the chicken broth reduced down to a nice glaze-y sauce that is delicious with the meatballs and kept them from drying out, so just beware of this if you decide to go with a more traditional sauteeing method. These can also be baked, but you probably won't get the crusty golden outside that sauteeing gives.

Ground chicken is not as lean as ground turkey (11 grams per 1 lb. vs 4 or 5 for turkey) so if you are severly fat restricted I suggest substituting the turkey (although the meatballs will be considerably drier). I plan on trying these with ground turkey in the near future. I also plan on trying to make my own ground chicken as it has been impossible for us to find a low-fat, white meat only variety in any of our stores.

Finally, DO NOT add any more salt than I have listed here. The chicken broth, though reduced in sodium, still has a considerable amount and when reduced will become saltier. Trust me on this one!

Nikki's Chicken Meatballs

6 oz. ground chicken

1 small garlic clove (I actually just used half a medium sized clove)

pinch kosher salt

1/2 tsp. smoked paprika

1/2 tsp. thyme

5 grinds pepper (I used McCormick's Tellicherry Pepper Blend)

1/2 cup Fat-Free, Reduced Sodium Chicken Broth

Finely mince the garlic clove, sprinkle with pinch salt. Continue to mince and smoosh (that's my technical term ;) basically just rub the knife over it) until a paste forms. (This step is not necessary but does allow the garlic to completely melt into the meatball so you end up with essence of garlic, not vampire-killer breath). In a bowl mix together the chicken, garlic, and other flavorings.

Heat a medium sautee pan over medium high heat. When a few tablespoons of chicken broth bubble in the pan it is hot enough. Divide the chicken into 4 golfball size balls and place in pan (NOTE: the chicken will be sticky and may not hold the ball shape well, but it will not fall apart in the pan. Once it begins to cook it will firm up and you can shape easier if you care about that kind of stuff.) Sautee meatballs on each side until cooked through (about 15 minutes). You will need to continue to add chicken broth a few tablespoons at a time as the broth reduces and becomes dark. To get maximum browning on the meatballs move them as little as possible and only add enough broth to keep the pan and the drippings from burning. Once the meatballs are cooked through, and the remaining chicken broth and reduce for another five minutes until a glazed sauce forms. Serve.

***I made garlic bread to go with this from a whole wheat English Muffin toasted with 1 teaspoon olive oil (optional), garlic salt, and .5 oz Parmesan cheese. It was delicious.

Exercise and Meatballs CAN Go Together

2009-08-20T10:51:00.002-05:00

Day 2 of The X is, if anything, WORSE than Day 1. I was actually kind of excited about this video. It's called Plyometrics, which doesn't sound too threatening, and the opening of the video makes it sound like aerobics kicked up a bit. IT'S A LIE. I barely made it through the warm up-not kidding-and after jumping non-stop for 30 minutes I had to give up. Well, to be fair I didn't so much give up as look down at my shaking thighs and say "Jump, damn it, jump" and they just looked back at me, quivering, and said "Screw you lady."

Day 3 also happens to be my day off work, so I had every intention of getting up early, plunging headfirst into the video, and spending the rest of the day congratulating myself. Ah, well, as the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. My good intentions went down that proverbial path when I didn't wake up until 9 AM-and was still exhausted. After 3 hours of washing dishes, vacuuming, dusting, laundry, and other household chores I've been putting off, I was starving. Which meant another 2 hours of cooking and dishes (luckily this means I have enough food cooked for the next 3 days =) all portioned out and everything!).

Then I took a nap. Naptime is highly underrated and should be a national past time.

The X Day 3 is Arms and Shoulders-it's all resistance work with either weights or resistance bands. I opted for the bands. Finally a workout I could do and enjoy! I made it all the way through, stopping only a few times to figure out how to do an exercise rather than to catch my breath. I even made it through the 20 minute Ab Ripper video, although I only did half the reps the robots Tony Horton hired for his video did. Still, VICTORY! and a much needed shot of confidence.

I rewarded myself for a productive day with some Wii time. Just me and my Wii. Somedays that's all a girl needs.

My fabulous lunch, by the way, consisted of chicken meatballs and garlic bread-all made from Tony Horton approved foods. Let me tell ya, nothing goes better with a diet than a plateful of meatballs! I'll be posting the recipe for any interested. This is a recipe I'll definitely be using even when the diet is over. Look for updates tomorrow on The X Day 4-Yoga...for 90 minutes. Oh man, I'm already tired....

The X, Day 1

2009-08-18T13:20:00.002-05:00

This is not going to be easy.

Day One video is arms, chest, and back. We will achieve aaammaaazing results with an hour's worth of chin-ups and push-ups (nightmare flashbacks to third grade PE...I couldn't even do one chin up then!). I thought the hardest part of all this was going to be the diet...but really, how hard is it to eat lots of chicken and steak? Not as hard as doing push-ups with your feet propped up on the seat of a chair, that's for sure.

I would have been fine if that's where it ended. As Tony Horton congratulated the incredibly buff men and women who spent the last hour doing 10 pushups for every ONE that I did (and making it look easy to boot), I grunted and lifted my poor body off the carpet and into the kitchen for a drink of water. Which is when the second half of the DVD started.

Oh, yeah, small note to all future P90X-ers: Every day of resistance training is followed with 30 minutes of abdominal work.

I cried.

Then I got out my yoga mat and proceeded to do the fanciest crunches and leg lifts known to man (pausing the dvd every 30 seconds to catch my breath), and finally with 7 minutes and 28 seconds left to go my body literally gave out. I couldn't move my head, my arms, my legs-I could barely blink. The only reason I finally moved was because I thought I might actually vomit the 25 pounds of protein I ate during the day*.

*This is a small exaggeration. It was only 15 ounces. But felt like a million.

On the plus side, I slept great. On my bed that I hadn't made yet, wrapped up in dirty sheets and no pillow cases. But who's counting. I'm not, I made it to Day 2 =)

The Challenge

2009-08-17T17:54:00.004-05:00

Blake has been on a body image mission for as long as I've known him, and his latest attempt at a Hugh Jackman-like physique is the purchase of the P90X system. For those of you who are not familiar with this, it is an INTENSE workout regime based on the idea of muscle confusion. You work out 6 days a week (with an optional 7th day stretch video) for 90 days. You also follow a strict diet set up to boost your fat burning and muscle building. Then, in 90 days, you look like this:

BEFORE

AFTER

Looks impressive, right? And totally fake. Until you look on YouTube. Just Google P90X testimonials. I did, and that's when I decided to give it a try too.

Blake realized that he wasn't following the diet properly, so after his first 45 days he decided to rest a week and join me when I started (which was today). My girlfriend Courteney at work is also starting with her boyfriend today. We're all nuts, I agree.

On the other hand, I've learned a lot about healthy cooking and planning ahead in the last 72 hours as I prepared for this program, and I thought it would be useful for both me and anyone who reads this to see how it goes. So look here for pics (you WILL NOT be seeing my before pics until I start seeing results), recipes that are good enough for everyday eating (not just when you're dieting!), and useful tricks I find for helping plan meals ahead.

And with any luck you'll get some updates on my life too ;)

Driving Tips

2009-07-10T13:40:00.003-05:00

Top Ten Things Other Drivers Do That Result In Me Flipping The Bird, Screaming Obscenities, and Exhibit Other Classic Signs of Road Rage:

(I realize that by posting this I am indeed a hypocrite, but hey, when I do it it's not to me so I don't care as much. And I really do try to avoid these particular annoyances. And I would love to hear any of yours that I've excluded. It could be a whole other blog.)

10. Get in the turn only/exit only lane to pass traffic that has slowed to a stop, then fail to exit or turn but instead come to a screeching halt to re-enter said traffic.

9. Speed up to pass me on the highway, then get back in my lane and go slower than I am.

8. Talk on your phone, TEXT (yes, this includes "only reading" your emails or text messages), put on your makeup, eat a four course meal, or otherwise engage your hands and brain while they are supposed to be driving.

7. Enter the turning lane to make a left hand turn but swerve sharply to the right into MY lane as I pass you because obviously turning left involves first turning right.

6. Drive a Hummer, Escalade, 18-wheeler, or a monster truck.

5. Drive straight down the middle in an apartment parking lot. Then give me a dirty look when I, driving on the right side of the 2 WAY PARKING LOT LANE, attempt to pass you going the opposite direction..

4. Ignore the tollway signs that indicate quite clearly which lanes are Tolltag only and enter that Tolltag only lane without even knowing what a Tolltag is. Then come to a complete stop and REVERSE on the HIGHWAY to get into the correct lane.

*Side note: This is even more fun now that the Tollways are all electronic tolling and they don't accept cash, so you can go in ANY lane and they'll just bill you. Which means now you same people are coming to a complete stop in the tollbooth to read the sign that says "Do not stop, Keep moving. We will bill you."

3. Drive your motorcycle between lanes in traffic at (minimum) 90 mph.

2. Stop to see what happened at an accident site. On the other side of the road.

1. Fail to check your blind spot OR turn on your blinker before attempting to enter my lane, then react to my honking horn with yelling, horn honking, fist pumping, and absolutely nothing resembling an apology on your face.

That's all. Thank you for listening. Now, back to your regularly scheduled programming.

It's About Time...

2009-06-29T13:26:00.005-05:00

...and lately I haven't had any. Change seems to come so quickly, it can be quite painful when it is making it's mark, and then just as swiftly it disappears leaving you breathless in its wake. That's what this year has been about. Change.

The first big change was Blake, who is amazing, still in my life, and a big part of all the changes that have been taking up so much of my time. But you already knew that ;)

The next big change was my job at Microsoft, which is amazing, still in my life, and an even bigger part of all the changes in the last few months.

The BIG change was the official moving out.

I'M OUT!!!!

May 1st I moved into an adorable 1 bedroom plus den apartment in a nice area (it's definitely diverse-and I'm definitely the minority-but totally safe). Philip, Blake, my mother, father, Aunt June, Blake's parents Pat and Kathy, and my cousin Steven all very bravely helped me move my storage unit contents from Flower Mound to Dallas, then proceeded to help me unpack the majority of them. Kathy and Aunt June handwashed every dish I had, Dad determinedly hung my new flat screen tv over my fireplace, Mom helped me sort out everything (including some bad memories of Ben) and pack them away to the storage unit for donation, and Blake and Pat ran all over town getting things that we needed but forgot (everything from coaxial cable to flashlights to pizza-we had to eat sometime).

Luckily the rain held off until after everything had been unpacked from the car, and by 8 pm that night my apartment was almost fully furnished and about 75% unpacked. The only problem was that nothing was actually put away yet. Normally this wouldn't bother me, but turns out I had less than two weeks to get my apartment fully unpacked, put away, and liveable, because I got cast as Maria in the Sound of Music for Garland Summer Musicals.

Which is DEFINITELY a whole other blog.

So I guess that's part one of "Where's Nikki". I hope I get to host many happy get togethers in the next 10 months...after which I will be moving in with Blake =) Again, another blog. I'm ready for wine, friends, and laughter to fill my living room...so let me know if and when you're ready to join me. Till then...

Coming Home

2009-06-23T21:24:00.002-05:00

I know it's been months since I've been on here. There is so much I need to catch up on-but right now I just ordered a pizza, opened a bottle of Chardonnay, and sat down in my favorite chair in my new apartment. Candles are lit, Food Network is on, and I can finally, after months-even years-take a deep breath and say...

I'm home. =)

Playing House

2009-02-28T09:14:00.002-06:00

It has been some time since I've updated, and since I finally have a free Saturday morning I thought I would catch you all up on my comings and goings.

I still love my job, especially the whole getting paid more than minimum wage part. In fact, because of that paycheck, I'M MOVING OUT!!! I am currently in the process of looking for apartments. I want to be near Blake, and fortunately he also lives near some of my closest friends (Philip, Lindsay and Sean, and Vanessa-if and when she moves out). Turns out it's a lot faster to drive to work on the George Bush tollway than it is from my parents house. And I'll be really close to one of my favorite places in the whole world, Central Market (which, aside from having incredibly fresh produce and a meat lover's heaven of a butcher section, also has the best smelling bathrooms in Dallas-weird, but true). So that's where a lot of my time and energy has been spent-focusing on the move out that I (and my parents) have been hoping and dreaming for for 2 years.

I've also been perfoming at church, going to friends' shows around town, celebrating my birthday, trying to visit with my nephew, celebrating Valentine's Day with Blake...busy busy busy as usual.

Speaking of Blake, we've spent the last week playing house. I think he would love it if I moved in for real, but I really need some time of my own before I do that and he gets it. He is amazing. But back to playing house. He invited me to stay with him for the last few months until I move out. To which I was like, oh goodness, I just don't know...I would feel so in the way. So (because he's amazing) he said, well, then move in for a week. If you like it, stay another week. You can always go home whenever you want. (Have I mentioned he's amazing?) So I spent last week with him. And it was wonderful. So I'm staying another week. And probably another. I'm hopeless. And silly. And completely in love. It's kind of sick.

There's my quick update. I'm going to go enjoy my Saturday morning, and with any luck I'll be back on here sooner than later. =)

Post Script

2009-01-30T14:49:00.004-06:00

Blogger is not saving "enter" when I hit the enter button, so until I figure it out we will just have to be patient and read my entries without spaces between paragraphs or thoughts. Which ticks me off, because it completely throws off the rythym of the eye and the thought as you read, and I put a lot of thought into those spaces, but oh well, if Blogger thinks it knows better...

The Reserves

2009-01-30T10:39:00.008-06:00

WARNING WARNING WARNING

GAG ALERT

*This blog is not for the faint hearted, pessimistic, lonely, or anti-romantic!

Secretly (okay, well maybe NOT so secretly) I am an utter whore for romance. Not the scheduled-within-an-inch-of-your-life kind of romance, but the kind that happens spontaneously when two people are completely in love and say things that in a normal sane world would not only be laughable but absolutely ridiculous.

Here's where you might want to stop reading if you have a sensitive gag reflex.

I am SO in love, and I happen to be in love with a man who is smart, witty, charming, opens doors, talks like a romance novel, and does whatever he can to give me the world. I have gone from a lonely realist to a big pile of lovey-dovey mush. I don't know what it is exactly that I do that makes him so happy, but he makes me feel like freakin' Miss America on a daily basis. I just know that I am living every romantic fantasy I ever dreamed up.

(Done puking yet?)

FOR EXAMPLE...

Last night as we were cuddling Blake kissed each of my fingers and then the palm of my hand-something he does frequently that I absolutely love. As he finished he looked up at me and said, "You know what those are called, right?" I racked my brain, thinking, "Should I?" I said, looking all cute and confused, "No, what are they?"

Blake: "They're reserves."

Me: "Reserves?"

Blake: "Yeah, you know, reserves. For when we can't be together. They're reserve kisses so you

won't miss me so much."

Me: "...................."*

*"................" is a little known technical symbol for girl unable to speak due to an overexcess of happiness.

And now you may proceed with the gagging, vomiting, and eye rolling usually induced by such romantic notions.

I will be over here with my reserves.

Busy Bee

2009-01-29T10:26:00.003-06:00

Well, as you can see my blog is once again unformatted. That's because I'm finally trying to figure out this whole create my own format thing out. Again. There's this great site called The Cutest Blog on the Block, and they have awesome tips, hints, and tutorials for just this kind of thing. Using one of those tutorials I was able to create the cute signature at the bottom of my posts-after 6 hours of trial and error. I'm using paint.net, and it's not quite as self-explanatory as I imagine Photoshop would be. Which is why my signature is a little on the simple side. But hey, I did it all by myself. Hmmmm, I wonder how long it will take me to create my own background...

Ode to Wine

2009-01-23T17:17:00.002-06:00

"Bottle of red, bottle of white, all depends on your mood tonight..."

Anyone else feel the need for a nice bottle of Pinot Noir or Merlot, some good music, and absolutely NO interruptions? There is nothing more I love than to put on some comfy clothes, decant a Cabernet, and put my feet up while I get drunk on Norah Jones and Billy Joel. Well, the wine helps, too.

"Red red wine, stay close to me..."

I love my parents for letting me live with them while I sort out my life, but now it's pretty well sorted and I'm so impatient to move out. It's impossible to kick back and relax when the tv below is blaring and your dad wants to know if the laundry in the dryer is yours and your mom is answering the phone that's ringing off the hook. It's not their fault. They're living their lives and I'm a little bit of an interruption. But even when they're gone...

"The days of wine and roses, and you..."

It's not my home. It's not my kitchen, my living room, my furniture, my wine glasses, my window with my view. I just feel so temporary, and it's hard to relax when you feel like an intruder in your own life. It's especially hard when those evenings of wine and music are so few and far between...

"Bring me wine, and make the music mine..."

Now that's not to say I don't enjoy a glass of wine or two in my bedroom as I wind down for bed. It's just not my bed, not really, and while it's my room, it's just not the same. So (long dramatic sigh) I just have to be patient for a few more loooooong months to find that little corner of the world where I will so happily inhabit and imbibe that oft sung of spirit.

The Do-It-Yourself Life

2009-01-15T20:33:00.005-06:00

Okay, I admit it. I (much like my friend Lauren) blogstalk. I will click on friend's of friend's of friend's blogs...to see if they're interesting, if they have any good stories or tips, and if their blog looks better than mine. (The answer is usually yes.) As I stalk, I've noticed A LOT of sites dedicated specifically to tips: tips on cooking, on raising children, on crafting. My friend Alicia has one (the link is on the side---->) that is wonderful, full of great crafting, cooking, and quilting tips. She has links to all sorts of wonderful websites that inspire her creatively. I love all of them.

And I almost never get to use the tips.

Why? Because I'm single (well, dating with no intention of ever giving him up, but not married or living together), I don't have kids (my nephew is too young and too far away for most of the fun things I'd like to do with him right now), and I work 40 hours a week. I have hobbies and friends that keep me away from my home a lot. Does that mean I can't have a wonderful, crafty, home-cooked life too? ABSOLUTELY NOT. I know many many people like me who live a less than domestic lifestyle, and I think that there should be a place for those people, too. So I created The Do-It-Yourself Life blog. There you can read about how I lost 30 pounds and keep it off (even though I sit on my butt 10 hours a day). You can see how I have homecooked meals EVERY SINGLE DAY at that 10 hour job. You can read about my "crafts" (oh, god, don't think it's gonna be anything special, because I get cuts on my fingers just looking at scissors). Most of all, you can read about what NOT to do, because I pretty much specialize in that (see Cookie Day for more details). Really, I think you'll find it both amusing and helpful. If not, well, I never liked you anyway.

Please note: the blog is under construction. It will look much prettier when I figure out the whole blog layout thing. The Cutest Blog on the Block has great tips for that, but their server keeps crashing, so I have to wait for them to get it back up before I figure it out. Trust me, you'll hear all about it....

The Circle of Life

2009-01-08T22:48:00.006-06:00

A few days after the New Year, my Uncle Dennis (my mom's brother-in-law) passed away from lung cancer that spread to his brain. For many the loss of an uncle is a sad but distant happening. Not so for my family. I come from a family where we know everyone-cousins, aunts, uncles, second cousins, step-cousins, grandparents, grandparents of cousins-family is family. I am very lucky that both my parents, and both sets of families, make an effort to keep in touch and visit frequently, even though we live halfway across the country from one another. Therefore I count many of these people not just as family, but as friends. My heart aches for my aunt and cousins, because they are some of those people.

I don't want to eulogize my uncle here, mostly because my cousin Keith's speech at the funeral (which I hope to get a copy of and post here) absolutely cannot be topped. I do want to talk about the wonderful, moving, and practical ways family and friends came together to celebrate a much loved man and to help his family in their time of need.

My Aunt June and Uncle Dennis live in a small town called Catlin, IL. The population is about the same as that of my high school. I have to admit, I've made fun of their choice of home more than once. I never will again after what that community did for my family. I want to pass it on, because many of us wonder what we can do to help a family when they experience a loss. Most send flowers or donate to a cause close to the heart of the deceased. If, however, you are wondering if there is something more concrete you can do, here are some of the things that the wonderful people of Catlin did for my aunt and cousins:

Make homemade food and take it to the house. Funerals mean lots of people staying over who need to be fed. Think about making something and freezing it first, or sending over a gift card for take-out. My aunt received chicken and noodles from 5 different people, though, so you may want to think about some more unconventional comfort foods. The family has pretty much banned chicken and noodles from our diet now.

If you're dropping off large portions of food, or something like chips and salsa, include Gladware with the food so that leftovers can be portioned out to people not staying at the house. Or, consider simply taking disposable take-out containers to the house.

Along the same lines, paper and plastic goods (plates, napkins, cups, eating utensils) WILL be used.

Kleenex and toilet paper ran out like Wii's at Christmastime. It's a practical option that will last way longer than the chicken and noodles.

Flowers, gifts, and donations all need thank you notes. One very thoughtful person dropped of several sheets of stamps to help in that endeavor. One less thing for the bereaved to think about.

Remember the next time you know someone who experiences a loss that prayers and flowers are appreciated, but the everyday items we take for granted are needed, often forgotten, but help in the process of moving on.

Better Late Than Never...

2008-12-15T16:57:00.010-06:00

SUNDAY Sunday Sunday....DECEMBER December December...14 14 14

Nikki Andoga finished the White Rock Half Marathon in 2 hours and 24 minutes!!! That's right, 13.1 miles at about an 11 minute mile pace. That doesn't account for the two bathroom stops or the horrendous wind we had to run against for most of the course, but it does reflect the 7 minutes it took for me and Philip to actually cross the starting line.

The day was actually pretty exciting, despite the fact that we had to be up at 5:45. Pre-race was only semi-madness...17,000 people had signed up to run the Half/Full Marathon, so needless to say, Victory Park was jam-packed. I have a slight crowd/claustrophobia issue, so Philip steered me directly into American Airlines Center where we waited for the sun to rise and Blake to meet us. The whole AAC was open to racers and few of them were taking advantage of it, so we found seats and ate our Power Jelly Bellies (goo-type energy sustaining grossness disguised as jelly-bellies. See, real runners eat this kind of stuff before long runs. I eat bagels or peanut butter crackers. But since I'm attempting to be a real runner, I figure I might as well eat the real runner food. Plus Blake bought it for me.). Once Blake found us we joined the thousands of others at the start line, sang the national anthem, then started! Of course my bladder decided by mile two that enough was enough and I had to stop at a gas station. Philip went on ahead, which partly accounts for his slightly faster time of 2:05. That, and he runs faster than me.

The race itself was pretty uneventful. There were people EVERYWHERE along the course...garage bands playing Christmas music, police escorts, friends and family cheering on racers, even people handing out everything from toilet paper to beer to cigarettes to bananas. Mom and dad were there to cheer me on, and Blake was at the finish line ready with McDonald's, water, and Vitamin Water. Philip and I headed straight for the beer corral once we had hydrated and taken our victory pictures. Then we headed inside the AAC for more beer. Then back to the beer corral for more beer. Beer was EVERYWHERE. Which may be why we couldn't find the parking lot with his car in it. Once we did, though, we headed to Massage Envy for TWO HOUR MASSAGES. That was the best idea EVER. The rest of the day was pretty much a blur-I was tired after all the getting up before the sun then running like Forrest for two plus hours. I think I went home and went to bed. With my medal on. Yes, I'm a freak.

Thanks to everyone for their texts, emails, and phone calls expressing your support and encouragement. More proof (as if I needed it!) that I have the best friends and family in the world!

Mom attempted to get a picture of me crossing the finish line. Instead, she got a picture of me crossing into the view of the camera lens (look waaaaaaay to the left).

The triumphant friends with McDonald's and medals.

The beer corral. Finally, a real smile from Philip. I'm thinking, man, is beer a good idea after 13.1 miles? The answer is YES.

Cookie Day (WARNING: The following account is long but true)

2008-12-11T11:33:00.008-06:00

For the first time in my life I find myself approaching the holidays with a solid job, long-held friends in the same state and nearly the same zip code, and a boyfriend who makes me giddy with happiness. So of course I am diving into Christmas with unusual verve, since it's my favorite holiday and I love all the silly things you can do for other people with the excuse that "It's Christmas!". Last year, in the midst of recovering from my break-up induced depression, I attacked the after Christmas sales determined to buy little knicknacks for next year, hoping that I would have people (preferably office folk or good friends) to give them to. Well, it worked. So I decided to fill the pretty little bowls I found with home-baked goodies.

Okay, if you don't know me well, then I have to warn you. I'm

not a baker (I tend to be improvisational in my cooking, and baking isn't really responsive to "just another dash of" whatever)

extremely clutzy

not much of a cleaner-upper (I swear there is a fairy dishmother who comes in the night and washes all those dirty dishes)

more enthusiastic at the idea of baking a ton of stuff and less inclined to actually plan out the baking itself.

And to top it off, Blake thought it would be fun to take a day off work and join me in the massive baking adventure. He thought, wow, a chance to spend a whole day with Nikki. I thought, wow, I wonder if he knows what he's gotten into.

8 A.M

Blake rings my doorbell and I hand him my list of, oh, about 8 recipes I want to make. He doesn't cringe. That's a good sign. We sit down and make out a list of ingredients we need to buy. So far, so good. Off we go.

9 A.M.

We begin our raid of the Wal-Mart baking aisle where all goes well until we look at our list and see meringue powder. Meringue powder? Can't find it anywhere...but hmmm, you know, we are at Wal-Mart. Maybe Target has more specialized baking stuff. It's right across the street, so we'll just stop there. Peppermints...sold out. Okay, we're going to Target anyway. 4 nutty s'mores trail mix bars.

Nutty s'mores trail mix bars.

I head for the candy aisle. Blake heads for...the granola aisle??? He assures me that they mean the s'mores granola bars. Okay, this is for a recipe called "Almost A Candy Bar". Surely they mean the candy bar S'mores? Blake insists no, they mean the granola bars that are s'more flavored. So we debate. For almost 15 minutes. Then decide to settle the debate at Target since we can't find s'mores candy bars at Wal-Mart anyway.

10:30 A.M.

Target doesn't have meringue powder. Or peppermints. Or s'mores candy bars. Or the paste food coloring that we forgot to look for at Wal-Mart. I sigh and cross one of the cookies off my list (the recipe that sparked my cookie adventure in the first place, I might add), and leave it for a day that I can go to a specialty store and get the very complicated ingredients that are disguised as innocuous everyday items in a cookie magazine that is very clearly trying my patience by not marking said items as *not found at Wal-Mart. I also give in (after a spirited, stare-drawing debate in the middle of Target) to the s'mores granola bar theory.

So far Blake seems more tickled than annoyed. Which slightly annoys me. Mostly because he's turning out to be right more than me.

11:50

Okay, finally time to start making the cookies! I send Blake to the stove to start homemade gumdrops while I begin the chocolate cookie dough that needs to refrigerate for an hour. Mom drops in and I recruit her (okay, force her) to participate by starting the Almost Candy Bar recipe (in which she thoroughly annoys me by agreeing with Blake that the recipe did, indeed, mean GRANOLA bars).

OOPS. I dump in 3/4 cup of cocoa powder instead of 1/3. And since I'm really not that smart, I say it out loud. Blake looks at me like I'm the cutest thing he's ever seen. Mom laughs and says, "Well, that's just the first oops of the day." I cringe and start scooping out as much of the cocoa as I can.

1:00 P.M.

OOPS. The peanut butter sauce for the candy bar needs 1/2 stick, not 1/2 cup, of butter. Oh well, it's already melted in there.

OOPS. Did you know that just about every cookie dough known to man needs to refrigerate before you bake it? Also, that's how gumdrops set, and the Almost Candy Bar. Hmmm, I should have cleaned the fridge out...they're all in big long pans...

1:25 P.M.

Stuff is starting to smell good and Mom has decided that her talents would be better put to use as a taster rather than sous chef. Blake has started in on the fifth load of dishes while I am trying desperately to make sure that the oven (which is set on 350 degrees but whose internal thermometer reads 375) doesn't burn my pretty peppermint biscotti, which is the only thing I haven't "OOPS-ed" on yet.

1:45 P.M.

OOPS. I'm trying to "drizzle" melted milk chocolate over my layered Almost Candy Bar and my ziploc baggie that's supposed to do all the drizzling without all the mess goes pop. You know, like when you blow air into it, shut it tight, then hit it and the zip either breaks or the seams burst. Only when mine popped, it popped milk chocolate instead of air.

OOPS. My mini loaf pans of cherry-pistachio bread are overflowing and creating lovely little green volcanoes. The pretty pistachio lava is burning to the bottom of the oven. Luckily, a cookie sheet placed underneath my mini-Mt. St. Helens stems the flow.

Blake is still doing dishes. Mom has given up on the baking and has returned to decorating the house for Christmas, which has been her project for the LAST TWO WEEKS.

4:00 P.M.

Okay, Almost Candy Bar-check. Gumdrops-setting. Biscotti-double baked and ready for drizzle. Chocolate pretzel cookies-baked, iced, and hershey-kissed. Cherry-pistachio bread-dormant and ready for wrapping.

OOPS. Remember my drizzle oops a few hours ago? Yeah, apparently I didn't either. So a few pieces of biscotti are a little more drizzly than others. Oh, well, they're supposed to look homemade anyway.

5:00 P.M.

Gumdrop time! In theory, the gumdrops (which are currently in a thin sheet in a pyrex dish) are supposed to just plop out of the pan onto wax paper after you loosen the sides. But if you've made it this far in the day with me then you know that nothing is going to work like the recipe says, so of course Blake ends up prying the ooey gooey mess out of the pan with his very patient fingers. He plops it on the wax paper and we get out our very sharp, very small, very cute cookie cutters, dunk them in hot water, and start cutting gumdrops. Easy enough.

Until we try to pry them off the wax paper.

6:00 P.M.

Still prying.

6:30 P.M.

I have a headache. The first batch of gumdrops have finally been peeled not-so-gently from the wax paper (I thought NOTHING stuck to wax paper) and placed on another sheet of-you guessed it-wax paper to "dry". Blake heads to church choir promising to return after for round two of gumdrop-mania. I wouldn't blame him if he never got in the same zipcode as me ever again.

9:00 P.M.

Ahhhhh. After dinner, sitting by the fire, and watching "White Christmas" with my Mom, I feel much better. After all, most of my desserts are sitting on the dining room table, cut up all pretty and decorated, and my boyfriend is ringing my doorbell. Apparently being an absolute mess in the kitchen is not a deal-breaker. Whew.

9:15 P.M.

We have the bright idea of spraying EVERYTHING associated to the gumdropping with PAM. And PRESTO! It works! After prying the second sheet of gumdrops out of the pan onto PAM covered wax paper, it takes us a mere half hour to cut and sugar the ruby-colored gems. I will include this helpful tip later down the road when I post the recipe and accompanying photos. But not today, because yesterday, I was too busy being covered in chocolate, sugar, peppermint, and super sticky Jell-O to grab my camera.

10:30 P.M

Blake helps me finish washing the rest of the dishes (which is basically every pot, pan, cookie sheet, and utensil in the kitchen, plus a few I didn't know we had). Then-and this is the part where I have to go, "huh?"-he hugs me, kisses me, looks me in the eye and says,

"I love you so much. Today was so much fun."

Huh? A full day of washing my dishes, dodging exploding chocolate baggies, hearing "OOOPS" every few minutes, and generally surviving the mayhem that-let's face it-is life with me, and he still loves me?

He still loves me. He loves covered-in-chocolate-dripping-with-gumdrops-stubborn-oopsing me. So yes, he's nuts, I'm lucky...

And I can't wait to do it again next year.

AMMENDMENT

2008-12-09T18:40:00.003-06:00

NEWS FLASH: I was wrong. Refer to one of my earlier posts (to which I will link when I figure it out) about Johnny Depp's rumored paycheck for the fourth installment of "The Pirates of the Carribean". The radio dj said $500 million dollars. The article I just ran across on the internet said $56 million. So maybe he won't be making more than Aaron Spelling did in a lifetime for one movie. It's still more than the top paying actress (Cameron Diaz) made for all her movies in 2007-2008. And I'll probably still see the movie. And I'm still jealous. So there.

Just When I Thought I Had It All Together...

2008-12-09T11:03:00.003-06:00

reality hits like a nuclear bomb. Okay, well maybe not quite that dramatic. I've been talking and talking about how I'm running a half marathon Saturday, December 13 for AGES now. I even posted a link to the marathon site. No one bothered to tell me that the marathon was SUNDAY DECEMBER 14. Ahem. So anyone who is interested in seeing their dimwitted friend cross the finish line should show up on SUNDAY DECEMBER 14TH. I'll be sleeping in on Saturday.

Prince Charming, Part 1

2008-12-04T18:19:00.010-06:00

I've never considered myself a "girl's girl". I mean, okay, I like twirly skirts (who doesn't??), I wear pink way more often than necessary for someone who claims to hate it, and I own three pairs of heels for every pair of sneakers in my closet (at least). But when it comes to friends, I've always migrated to the guys. Let's face it: even though romantic relationships are often messy and tough to navigate, guys as a whole are far less complicated to understand than girls. Or maybe it's just me. Whatever.

The point is (hah! you knew I was gonna get there, I mean here, eventually) that I finally met a Prince Charming. And my relationship with him has opened my eyes to the man in my life who came before him. I know, I know, you're all probably dying to know more about my Prince, but to understand how I can love him (and, maybe, how he can love me), I thought I'd wax philosophical about the other Prince Charming in my life...the one who taught me what a man should be.

I give him grief all the time...more than any man deserves. The truth is, my father is the man who has made it so difficult to find someone worth giving my heart to. He has given me so much...trips to exotic places, a first class education, a comfortable home (that he keeps letting me return to). He's given me an example of what marriage is supposed to be like (thirty years of marriage and he still talks about how attractive he thinks my mother is). Growing up I never noticed if we had more or less than my friends, though there were times we certainly did have less, or more. He's provided for our family in every way.

The two most valuable pieces of advice I ever got were from my father. The first wasn't even advice. When I left college to pursue a career performing, there was a small part of me that wondered if I was in some way disappointing my dad...glamorous though it may be, an acting career for their child is not the dream of most parents. Plus, my father was quickly rising in management, and having inherited his personality I wondered if that was the path that I, too, was supposed to have followed. I wondered...until the day my father told me about a conversation with his co-worker in which he expressed such pride and admiration for his daughter who was pursuing her dream and catching it. It didn't matter that it was far-fetched, unstable, unconventional, and completely different from the path he followed...he was proud of his daughter for having a dream and going for it.

Fast forward a few years, and I'm back at home, choosing another path (and now worried that I'm disappointing my father for choosing a different dream). When I finally expressed this through racking sobs, daddy simply looked at me and said, "Whatever you do, do something you're passionate about. If there's no passion, it's not worth it. I only want you to be happy, and the only path to happiness is passion."

We may take jabs at each other-and we do, because we're too much alike, both stubborn, set in our ways, independent, moody, always thinking we're right (and we usually are), bossy, nosy, and determined-but there is never a moment when I forget that he was the first man to love me. He is the man who has tenaciously held onto my heart for a lifetime. He is the man who may lead a company to success, but first and foremost led a family to a happy ending. And someday he'll give me away, but he'll be the only man to do so without losing my heart, my love, or my devotion. He is the man against whom all others will be measured.

He is my first Prince Charming.

Happiness is...

2008-11-24T22:02:00.006-06:00

...a warm belly to bury a tired head in.

...a Gramma's lap to sit in.

...a friend to learn to crawl with.

...hugs, hugs, and more hugs!

Already?

2008-11-21T13:20:00.006-06:00

I can't believe it's been two weeks since I've been on here! A lot is going on (as usual), so here are some of the highlights:

I'm loving my job at Microsoft! Even though I said I never wanted to sit all day in front of a computer, that's exactly what I'm doing and very much enjoying it. Of course, it's not just data entry or mindless work...my mind is constantly occupied. Which we all know is a very good thing.

I'm very happily dating a wonderful man named Blake (yes, he's the one I mentioned a little while ago when I said "I met someone."). It's been almost two months, which isn't very long, but when you haven't gone past a first date in almost two years, two months is monumental. Plus, he's amazing in every way possible, and everyday I find out more to adore. I know. Vomit now. We're THAT couple.

Along the same lines, last week was the 2 year anniversary of D-Day, Independence Day, the day of the big breakup. Last year I celebrated with a few drinks with my mom and a few friends. This year? I ran a 15K and cooked dinner for my boyfriend, and completely forgot about the anniversary. Which, in my book, is a HUGE milestone.

For the entirety of my life I have bitten my nails. Nothing has worked. Manicures, horrible tasting nail polish, fake nails, promises from people to buy me jewelery, ridicule-I stay true to my stubborn Andoga roots and refuse to curb the appalling habit. Then I started dating someone who likes to kiss my hands, my palms, my wrists...and my fingertips. All of a sudden pretty hands have become priority number one (right next to moving out of my parents' house). So far I have a 60% success rate. And it's kind of bizarre to have nails long enough to feel when I type. They're not super long, they're definitely not pretty, but they're healthy(er), and best of all I'm losing the urge to pick or nibble at them. Yay for personal progress!

Yeah, did I mention the 15K? Philip and I completed the third of of our four races, the Rockledge Rumble 15K Trail Run. 9.9 miles of hiking trail (unpaved, in some places not even fit for running, and slightly longer than the posted 9.9 miles since, as the race coordinator said, they "just estimated the distances with their best educated guess."). So now we're mere weeks away from running our half marathon. For any local readers who want to come cheer us on, the race is The White Rock Marathon, December 13th. Let me know you're coming so I can keep an eye out for you as I cross the finish line!

I know, I know, I still haven't posted pictures of my nephew. So if you want to see them, go visit my Facebook page, there's some there.

All right, that's it for now! Blogs will be coming more frequently when I have finished my marathon and exited the cocoon phase of my relationship (which, I admit, may be some time). Happy start of the Holidays!

Overwhelmed

2008-11-05T23:13:00.006-06:00

Today is one of those days I'll remember forever. I have witnessed and participated in history. When I think of "history", I think the JFK assasination. The first moonwalk. Martin Luther King's "I Have A Dream" speech. The bombing of Pearl Harbor. In my lifetime I can remember only two moments that were truly stunning...so stunning that I can remember (even though for the first I was very young) every single detail of those days. The first was the explosion of the Challenger with Krista MacCauliffe on board. The second was 9/11.

And now I have today. The day when America seemingly rose as one and said, "We're scared. We're not sure where we are. We're not sure where we should go. But above all we are hopeful, and we believe that CHANGE is all those things." Today was the day that more people than in the history of our country chose to exercise their right to vote. Today is a day we can and should be proud of.

My cousin Rachel is ridiculously smart, funny, and has summed the history of Obama's election up so well that I can only refer you to her blog. I think she pretty well expresses what our generation is standing for, and it's a generation I am finally proud to count myself one of. Congratulations to us all!

Friendship

2008-10-24T18:10:00.002-05:00

Friendship was so easy when we were in high school and college. 99% of our friends were right there all day, every day. So those first 18 years of learning to be a good friend (and yes, there was A LOT of learning, for all of us!), while valuable, just didn't prepare any of us for friendship outside protected walls. I know I can't be the only one who has spent her young adult life learning how to be a long-distance friend, the difference between a friend and an acquaintance, what happens when you get you first REAL boyfriend or girlfriend...and how that affects all the other friendships in your life. We betray our friends in more grown up ways, but we love them more maturely, too. We practice forgiveness, listening, giving advice, holding our tongue-and all without parental supervision. We lose friends for various reasons, good and bad, and we reconnect with some we never valued properly. For many of us, our friends become our family as relatives dwindle or become distant. For all of us, our friends help give us an identity and a place in the world.

I find myself needing a reminder that not all of us have the same learning curve. When we as friends have misunderstandings, shouldn't we take a deep breath and remind ourselves that, "Hey, this is my friend. I know this person." It's not baseball people. We get more than three strikes. Otherwise we would all be alone. Or perfect. So there it is. My friendship lesson for the week. Guess I'm still a pretty good student...or at least attentive :)

The Half Billion Price Tag

2008-10-20T16:43:00.004-05:00

On the way to work this morning the DJ's were doing their daily "Sleazy Look At Hollywood" segment, which I of course listen to religiously. The bit that caught my attention was an update on the fourth installment of "The Pirates of the Caribbean" series. Apparently Johnny Depp is not so keen to jump back into Jack Sparrow's eyeliner and dredlocks, but said sure, why not-for $550 million. HA HA HA said the devilish Sparrow on his shoulder, THEY'LL NEVER GIVE IN TO THAT RIDICULOUS DEMAND.

HA HA HA said Disney. HALF A BILLION DOLLARS? YOU GOT IT!

That's right. The world's most favorite pirate will return to the silver screen for the bargain price of $550 million dollars. Which is absolutely ridiculous, of course, but when you're Disney I suppose there is no price tag too high. Just out of curiosity I Googled $550 million dollars to get a better idea of its worth (because I can't even comprehend what I would do with $550 million). Here are some of the results:

MySpace sold for half a billion dollars in 2006
So did Facebook.
It cost $500 million to make Spiderman 3...the ENTIRE movie.
According to one article, half a billion will buy you 1,500 houses, 83,000 pairs of diamond earrings, 200,000 flatscreen tv's, 23 million toasters, or 179 million Big Macs.
The Rolling Stones grossed $500 million from their concert tour in 2007...a concert tour that spanned TWO YEARS.
Aaron Spelling's ENTIRE ESTATE was estimated at half a billion.
The 2008 presidential nominees raised a combined $500 million in 2007 in campaign funds.
The four Seminole tribe casinos in Florida bring in a combined half billion each year.
Grand Theft Auto IV sold $500 million in it's first week.

Who says we're in a recession?! Let's all go work for Disney, since they obviously have moolah to spare. And congratulations, Mr. Depp, I admire the balls it takes to even throw that kind of number out there. Now, if I could only figure out what the taxes on that would be...

How Can I Keep From Singing?

2008-10-19T18:12:00.004-05:00

Today was my first Sunday actually singing in the choir at church (I missed the first Sunday because I was visiting my brother's family in Kansas). Of all the good things that have happened over the last month or so, this was sort of the culmination. The service was inspiring, the singing was beautiful, and even though I had to get up at 6 am-that's SIX IN THE MORNING BEFORE THE SUN RISES AND NORMAL HAPPY PEOPLE SHOULD NEVER HAVE TO SEE THAT HOUR OF THE DAY (ahem, I'm not complaining)-to be ready, I felt sunshiney and glowey all day (especially after my nap). I hated the chore of singing in chapel in college, but that's because I was there by demand and not choice. This was not a chore but a joy. I've been given a great deal in my life, not least of which is a second chance at making my life what I want it to be. The least I can do is give a little back. I can't tithe yet (I'm still in the red financially speaking), but I have one thing I can give back to God/the universe/whatever you want to call it and that's my voice. So when we sang this song today, I felt like we were singing the anthem of my life. The recording that follows was sent to me by a fellow choir member. It's from The Prairie Home Companion, and the singer is Martin Sheen-yes, that Martin Sheen. Forward the sound to 82:30 to hear him sing these great lyrics:

How Can I Keep From Singing?
Traditional Shaker Hymn

My life flows on in endless song
Above earth's lamentation,
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
That hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing,
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?

What though the tempest 'round me roars,
I hear the truth it liveth.
But though the darkness 'round me close,
Songs in the night it giveth.

No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging.
Since love is lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?

When tyrants tremble sick with fear
And hear their death knells ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near
How can I keep from singing?

To prison cell and dungeon vile
Our thoughts to them are winging,
When friends by shame are undefiled
How can I keep from singing?

No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging.
Since love is lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep from singing?

Update!!!

2008-10-16T16:57:00.004-05:00

Oh my goodness, friends, since September life has been an absolute whirlwind! There is so much to catch you up on, so here are my last two months at a glance:

"I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change" opened, ran, and closed in Lewisville to near sold-out audiences. We transferred the show to Garland last weekend for a one-night-only fundraiser and have now retired, at least for the moment. Great show, great cast, great fun-but lots more happening, like...
Philip and I completed the first two races of our four race commitment, the Addison Oktoberfest 5K and the Lake Joe Pool Pumpkinfest 10K. Philip beat me in both races, by a mere 7 seconds in the first race and a good 4 or 5 minutes in the second. However, I finished 3rd in my age group at the 10K (but Philip keeps reminding me that he "is in a VERY COMPETITIVE AGE GROUP!"). We are now gearing up for our 15K in Grapevine, which is a trail run. That means new training techniques and new shoes. Woo hoo!
I finally went to Philip's church, Unity Church of Dallas, and loved it! I decided to join the choir, which I have, which led to...
A new job!!! Last week I hung up my bar key and retired from Chili's to become a full-time employee of...Microsoft. That's right, folks. I work at Microsoft. Technically I'm employed by CompConTech, which is a vendor of Microsoft, but I work in the Microsoft offices in Las Colinas as a Duty Manager (basically I route software problems from the customer service representative to the properly trained engineer). I work 4 day weeks (Mon, Tues, Thurs, Fri) from 9am-7pm. So far I love it, and the fact that I get salary, benefits, and PTO is a major part of that.
I met someone. Infamous last words, right? I met a guy who is funny, charming, smart (he understands my SAT vocabulary!), employed (this becomes surprisingly important as I get older), sweet, and he thinks I'm wonderful. Which was the first wonderful thing about him. Many many wonderful qualities have followed, and I'm hoping that my first instinct (that this guy is the kind of guy-hell, THE guy-I should have been dating all along) continues to be proven right. I'm a little terrified because this guy is so amazing and we click so well that I'm just waiting for the ball to drop...then I remember that if that's all I think about then eventually it will drop. So I concentrate on all the goodness that is happening and, well, let's just say I'm glowing :)
My nephew Jack (who needs some pictures on here, I know, Alicia! I've been so busy with everything else that I'm constantly playing catchup right now!) is 5 months old. He is wickedly close to crawling, is eating rice cereal and sweet potatoes in addition to the breast milk, and his little personality is absolutely adorable. He laughs from deep in his belly, and a smile is never far from his face (although he hates the car and wails from the second you get him in the car seat. Oh well, no one is perfect.).

That's it in a nutshell. Not a very small nutshell, but you get the picture. Keep an eye out for lots of pictures in the near future, and start looking for me to be in touch, because now I have free time and can't wait to catch up with all my friends who have been sadly abandoned due to my over-loaded schedule. Can't wait to see you all...!

The Commitment

2008-08-27T16:51:00.002-05:00

One of my New Year's Resolutions this year was to run a marathon. Well, that was pretty ambitious since I could barely run two miles outside in January. As the year has progressed, I've become more and more determined to do the thing...so I ammended the resolution to a half marathon, and today I finally committed. My friend Philip and I have been encouraging each other to push ourselves physically, and in passing conversation I kept telling him, "I'm going to run the White Rock Half Marathon, you should train with me." In the last two months he seemed to start taking it seriously, we both upped our mileage and our weight loss, and today we registered for four races, culminating in the White Rock Half Marathon. So here goes nothing, friends, there's no turning back now!

PS-I think this is the first New Year's Resolution I've ever even attempted to keep. This could be the start of something really good :)

Sigh

2008-08-18T23:10:00.003-05:00

Sigh...what a long day at work. Today it was beyond miserable. I did the work of two managers for $2.00 an hour. My lunch consisted of one chicken finger and a handful of fries-pretty much shoved into my mouth all together while I ran up and down the line in the kitchen traying up food and taking To Go orders. When it was my turn to be busy on the floor, everyone else had completely disappeared. Typical.

Sigh...and sniffle. It's been a terrible day, but mom remembered that I requested spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. So I cry. The shower seems like a good refuge, so I escape for thirty minutes with an audio book and the hot steam. And cry some more. No use keeping it in.

Sigh...relax the vocal chords. Tonight begins tech week for my show, which opens on Friday. A twenty minute warmup begins the healing process. The familiar exercises ease much of the tension I feel. My voice finds its center, and so do I.

Sigh...a breath of relief. Rehearsal goes off without a (major) hitch. All the energy I was putting into being miserable I channel into a focused (more or less) performance. It's not perfect, but it's good, so I'll take it. Plus, I get to spend three hours with very charming, funny, talented people whom I like a great deal. They seem to like me, too, which is always a bonus. I thank my lucky stars that I have such an outlet for my emotions.

Sigh...the day is finally over. One more Monday down. One more miserable day at work over. It occurs to me that for at least a month now my Mondays have been wretched, but the closer I get to Friday the lighter my heart is. I don't like being that way. I miss liking my job. I miss enjoying what I do on a daily basis, rather than counting the hours until I'm free of that prison.

Sigh...and try again tomorrow.

Daddy's Little Girl

2008-08-12T23:34:00.002-05:00

I love my father. He's been THE man in my life...for my entire life. He treats me better than any boyfriend I've ever had, which is why I'm still single-he's set the bar pretty high. I've spent most of my life trying to figure out exactly how I feel about my dad for so many reasons...I inherited his personality and drive, which often leads us to clash; I hero-worship him, so every time I feel I've failed myself, I feel I've disappointed him more; I admire and strive to duplicate his successes, but because I also inherited his streak of independence I want to do it on my own in my own way. In many ways I'm the "son" in the family...my brother has my mother's personality through and through. I was always the better student, the more driven sibling, the more outspoken child, the one of whom the family always expected the most. And like the prodigal son I've returned home begging for help and mercy.

Daddy has never tried to make me feel any of this...most of it is of my own creation, a reflection of my own fears and insecurities. In fact, he has never ever put me down. He has only continued to offer help and support in every way he can. When I moved home despondent because I didn't know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, he simply looked at me and said, "Nikki, whatever you do, make sure you do it because it makes you happy. Make sure you are passionate about it. No amount of money can ever replace leading a passionate and happy life." It is the advice I have been trying to follow for the last year.

Tonight my father offered (not for the first time!) to help me find a job in his industry. Not to get it for me, but to be my compass in the search for my new path. This offer, in the past, has been met with protests (some of them quite rude, in retrospect), tears, defenses, and ultimately rejection. Remember, I want to do it my way!

Tonight I accepted. Tonight I begin to understand that being daddy's little girl means that maybe he knows me better than myself sometimes. Maybe it means he has confidence in me. Maybe it means he doesn't necessarily want to control my every move, but maybe-just maybe-he wants to give me a push with the understanding that in the end, only I can make or break the deal. One thing I know-it means he loves me enough to never give up on me.

Lucky Me

2008-08-10T11:26:00.003-05:00

I love being a part of something bigger, greater, and infinitely more important than just myself alone. I just started rehearsals for a remount of a show I did last year, and OH MY GOD it is just amazing to be back in the theatre with familiar people. I don't know how I got so lucky to be paired up with Philip, Stephen and Courtney, but thank God for Alan Hanna who somehow knew our chemistry would be not just ideal but outright HYSTERICAL. We have not gotten through a single rehearsal without completely cracking each other up. Not only that, we have become more supportive of each other, which has given us the safe place to explore each character even further. Theatre people will tell you-this kind of enjoyable camaraderie is all too rare, and those of us who get to experience it never want it to end.

This is particularly exciting for me for a couple of reasons. First, this show holds a special place in my heart because it helped get me up out of the blues and back into a real life (one that included smiles, laughter, and friends-old and new). Second, I came out of it with several new and indespensable friends. Philip in particular has become one of the best and most loyal friends I could ever ask for (which is funny, because we DID NOT get along at all for the first month or so...which is probably a blog in itself). Third, these people think I'm funny and a pretty good singer/actress. I mean, I think I'm pretty good, too, but I also know when I suck and how hard I've had to work to get to this point. On top of that, I'm never really sure if I'm funny...I tend to think people are laughing AT me, not WITH me (which is a fine but important point in comedy...and life). But NOOO, they think I'm actually FUNNY as in ha ha ha you have a good sense of humor and timing. So hey-kudos to me!

Finally, this is the first time I've really conciously let myself be bare and exposed (emotionally) on stage. The first time around my emotions were right on the surface anyway, so it just kinda happened. This time I'm in a better place in my life, a little more balanced and way more in tune with myself. What all this means in actor-speak is that I actually have to access those emotional highs and lows rather than just let them happen because I'm already an emotional wreck. It's a little scary to throw out a gesture or voice that you think is funny or dramatic and know that it could just flop and fail quicker than the blink of an eye. Which has happened. And guess what? The world didn't end, I didn't get replaced in the show, and no one judged me. Turns out they were too worried about what they were doing to notice that I looked stupid. They only noticed when I actually made them laugh or cry. Hmmm, maybe there's a good lesson in that....

When God Speaks...

2008-08-06T16:48:00.002-05:00

...He often does so through the most unexpected voices, and in the most unusual places. Here I am, feeling sorry for myself because I may actually have to do something about my teensey problems, and I post a mood update on MySpace. I say I need a hug...and a few hours later in my inbox I find a little note from a friend I haven't heard from in months. "Consider this a hug." This is not someone I speak to often or intimately. This is not a person I would necessarily turn to in a crisis. This is not even someone who lives in the same state as me. Yet they heard my cry, and those four words lightened my load so much!

Then I say that I must make some sacrifices to move forward. Again, hours later, from yet another friend who I only talk to occasionally, I receive a message of encouragement. She tells me how she has always admired my strength, has always looked up to me, and she knows that no matter what obstacle is in my way I will succeed. The words I had prayed to hear coming from the most unexpected person in the most unexpected place.

He speaks. We just have to listen.

Sacrifice

2008-08-05T00:19:00.002-05:00

Tonight I made a huge decision.

I have been unhappy for some time now, for many reasons. I'm not making near enough money, especially for what I am capable of making. My job is taking more and more out of me everyday, mostly because I want to be there less and less. I am performing a lot (which makes me happy), but because of my rehearsal/work schedule I have little time for friends and no time for me (which makes me miserable).

Something's gotta give. That something is theatre.

The thing that keeps me sane, the thing I love above all others, and the thing that gives me (strange as it may seem) an identity is what I am going to give up, at least for the rest of the year, so that I can maybe achieve some balance in the rest of my life. I need a new job, and I need time to find it. I need to be flexible with my schedule (which theatre rehearsals do not allow). I need to save money and MOVE OUT-I am going crazy with just a bedroom to call my own. I hate that my sanctuary is also my office, my living room, and my storage space.

I'm not sure I know who I am without actively pursuing another role to play. Theatre has been such a staple of my life it's become a sixth food group. Some days the only thing that makes going to work bearable is the thought that in the evening or on that weekend I will be with people who will understand, accept, and love me. I will be able to inhabit someone else's life and interpret it as only I can for a few hours, then gratefully morph back into me (perhaps even learning something along the way...). The best friends I have ever made have all been from experiences in theatre or music. When I say I am giving up theatre until I have fixed the mess that is my life, I feel like I am giving up all of those other things, too.

Yet I say this with a sense of relief. All along I knew I would have to sacrifice something to pay for the choices I made in the past (which is what led me to this predicament in the first place), and I am grateful that I can at least identify the sacrifice. I am grateful that because I love it so, I cannot and will not sacrifice it for good. I will be motivated to make the changes necessary. When I chose not to make theatre my job, I relegated it to the realm of "hobby", and a hobby is something you do in your free time. Right now my free time needs to be dedicated to other pursuits. So I am grateful that I am sacrificing something that I know I can never give up for good.

Tonight begins the countdown. No more auditions (I'm giving up my first one TOMORROW-a show I really really want to do, but I have to FOCUS), no more applause for accomplishments, no more cast parties, and no more excuses. It's time to move forward.

A Dose Of Daily Good

2008-08-02T10:23:00.002-05:00

I'm not a huge activist of any kind, but I do believe in helping wherever I can. A friend posted a bulletin on MySpace directing anyone who has pets or who just loves animals to the Animal Rescue Website to click on the big purple button to provide free food for animals in shelters. (These animals are often underfed or starved because the shelters are overcrowded and lack funding.) That's it! Just click with your mouse and the website will donate money for food! I have added the website to my favorites list, and everytime I sit down to check my email, my blog, my MySpace, or just to Google something, I go to the link first and click. Every click donates the equivalent of .6 bowls of food-and you can click as many times a day as you want. Has there ever been an easier way of giving?!? So for all my like-minded friends, here's the link:

http://www.theanimalrescuesite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=3

Happy Clicking!

To Need And Be Needed

2008-07-31T23:31:00.004-05:00

Tonight I spent a few hours visiting a friend in the hospital. He's been suffering severe stomach pains for some time now, and it turned out he needed surgery to remove his gall bladder and relieve his pancreas. Nothing life-threatening, but hey-anytime someone decides to stick a knife and other pointy objects around in your stomach, it ain't fun.

The upside to this is that when I arrived (thinking that I would just visit and cheer him up, not realizing that he had gone into surgery since he had failed to mention that little detail), he was shortly to be released from recovery. Of course, he probably won't remember that I was there, but I will never forget that me and five of his closest friends were on hand to make sure that everything went smoothly and that he was well taken care of. Neither will I forget that when he saw us all hovered around his doorway he groaned and said, "I had a dream...and you were there...and you were there...." (Can you see why we're friends? Anyone who can reference "The Wizard of Oz" as they come out of an anesthesia-induced semi-coma is tops on my list!)

That got me thinking. Should something happen to me, I wonder who will be hovering around my stark hospital room waiting for me to be conscious. Will there be flowers? Board games? Movies? It's not that I think my friends don't care. If I thought that, they would not be friends at all. Our lives get so busy, though, and we often just don't make enough time for one another because of this or that. We forget to nurture our everyday cares and woes and victories, and we wait for the huge, unavoidable events. Relationships with friends, family, lovers-they take time and thought and effort. They are not easy. They shouldn't be easy-if they were, they would not be special.

I want to be special. And I want my friends to know they are special to me, not just when they have half their internal organs removed. If I (and you!) can make time for rehearsals, work, hair appointments, oil changes, prime-time tv, and blogging, can't we make time to call and say, "Hi" or "How are you?" or "Just thinking about you"?

After all, friends are way more important than laundry.

Long Time Coming

2008-07-27T15:04:00.003-05:00

I have been absurdly busy over the last month (as I have already lamented...get used to it). I have composed some brilliant, sensitive, and insightful blogs, but they never made it from my brain to the blog. So sad for all of you. Those words and thoughts could have changed the world-alas, it was not meant to be.

What WAS meant to be was my attendance at this year's 20th annual Babin family reunion (the Andoga's are a branch of the Babin's...I'm not sure how, but our family tree is quite spread out now, so I pretty much just take it at face value). I love getting to visit with my cousins, but this year there was a marked difference between me and the girls I have grown up with (we're all about the same age). Missy is married with two kids, Cheryl is married and preparing for kids, and Ashley is engaged and living with her fiancee. They all have good jobs, plans for the future, and are the absolute picture of the all-American family.

Then there's me.

I'm sure by now everyone who knows me can easily enumerate the differences between those responsible tax-paying cousins and myself. What struck me this year was the realization that I will never be like them...and I'M GLAD. I finally see all the adventures the world has to offer to someone like me. I finally see that even if and when I have a family, it will be a totally different kind of family...and the world NEEDS my kind of family. I finally see that preparation and planning are good things (I learned that the hard way!), but the ability to veer off the beaten path and discover new and exciting roads (even if they sometimes turn out rougher and more dangerous) is a most valuable asset. I finally see that being different is not a negative, but a positive. My cousins have chosen the lifestyle best for them. Certainly there are aspects of their life I find appealing and envy-worthy. But I finally see how MY life could and should be cause for jealousy. I finally see how good I have it.

Finally I have found gratitude for my life.

So It Goes...

2008-07-07T22:37:00.003-05:00

I always tell myself, "When this show is over, life will FINALLY get back to normal." Which is true, it does. What I forget is how busy, unpredictable, and utterly exhausting "normal" is. This last month, "normal" has consisted of traveling three weekends in a row, with more to come. I've managed to squeeze in a few friendly phone calls, emails and texts between plane rides and car trips, but I know I have been sadly absent (well, sadly on my part, I don't know if anyone actually missed me) from get-togethers, performances, and the general mayhem that my friends tend to create.

On the plus side, I got to spend Father's Day weekend with my six week old nephew, my brother, and my father. I stayed up with Jack for two nights in a row (poor baby, he wasn't pooping, which is one-third of what babies know how to do, so he was really cranky). I wasn't sure if my sister-in-law would trust me alone with him, especially with him not feeling well, but she was more than happy-even grateful!-for the help, which I supplied rather selfishly. It was my first alone time with my nephew, and I was gonna take it however I could get it. For two wonderful nights my Jackie boy cuddled up on my chest and shoulder and slept (albeit for only an hour and a half at a time) while I dozed. I fed him, sang to him, talked to him, rocked him, and memorized every feature of his face and every noise he made. It was torture leaving him, and I cannot wait until this weekend when he comes to visit us in Texas!!!

The following week I went to Napa Valley with my parents. It was pure bliss. Granted, the air was choked with smoke from all the wildfires, but it was so peaceful...so quiet. I spent the week tasting wine, making friends everywhere I went, eating constantly, and doing it more or less alone. Of course my parents were with me just about everywhere I went, but they left me to my own devices, allowing me to enjoy my first post-Ben, post-depression vacation on my own. And I enjoyed it. Pictures and more details to follow...I promise!

Finally, this weekend I went to San Antonio to watch my mom compete in a dance competition with her adult tap and jazz class. We spent a fantastic girls' weekend shopping at the outlets in San Marcos, visiting Fredericksburg, watching the dance competition, and wandering the Riverwalk. This weekend my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew are coming to stay, along with my Grandmother from PA, and my aunt and uncle and three kids from IL. Then I'm going to Pittsburgh for a family reunion. You know, I think I'm gonna need a vacation from all this vacation!

So that is my excuse for lack of blogging...pictures and thoughts on my travels will follow as soon as I have rested...and caught up with my friends for real, and not just through blogging. After all, I am still a people person, not a virtual one :)

Artistry

2008-06-12T23:50:00.003-05:00

"I would love to touch somebody through my dance, it's my art, it's my voice." -Jessica (a contestant on So You Think You Can Dance 2008)

Wow, if that doesn't just sum it up, I don't know what does. Everything I (and all artists-visual, performance, or otherwise) work for is right there in those words. In the end it's not about the accolades (although they are nice), it's about what you give. Someone who doesn't perform will never understand that ultimately you give so much more than you ever get in return. Creating a character, singing a song in just the right way, getting the paint on the canvas exactly right-this takes more than 100%. But it's worth it when you see the smiles, the tears, the nods of understanding, and the glow of enlightenment in the faces of those who hear your voice.

Some people volunteer at soup kitchens. Some teach illiterate children. Some raise money for worthy causes. I walk onto a stage and occasionally burst into song. This is what I have to offer the world. You can feed the masses, teach them, and give them money. I hope through my passion and my art to give them a reason to take it and live.

Movin' On Up...

2008-06-11T00:01:00.002-05:00

Tonight was my final bar training...I am officially a Chili's bartender. I arrive at this new, higher station in life with mixed feelings. I am super excited because there is the potential for a lot more money, and I am finally going to have a fixed schedule that frees up my nights and weekends. On the downside, this is as far as we go, friends. There are no more rungs on the restaurant ladder, unless I want to go into management (and ick, who wants to do that?!). I have in my hands a golden opportunity: the chance to make money, on my terms, on my chosen schedule, and in the meantime figure out what it is I want to do. Because God knows I don't want to bartend for the rest of my life. In fact, there's a lot of things I don't want to do. I need to start adding to the "want" side of the list. Which turns out is a lot easier said than done...

Gratitude 1

2008-06-05T22:28:00.002-05:00

Just a quick "Thank you!" to all those who have offered help on formatting my blog and/or encouraged my random ramblings! You have all been helpful in many ways and I truly appreciate everything you have offered to me. Hugs, kisses, and lots of laughter are being sent your way via the internet :) Love and thanks, ...Nikki

Julie Andrews

2008-06-04T16:39:00.004-05:00

I am reading Julie Andrew's memoir, "Home", which is thoroughly inspiring me to begin a disciplined approach to singing again. I was incredibly dedicated in high school and college-I didn't even sing to the radio without a proper warm up. I still have a great deal of training ingrained in my body, mind, and vocal cords, but I have definitely let many good habits slip. I must admit that I miss the daily routine of vocal warmups, tweaking songs and learning new ones. I continually tell myself that when "this" happens or "that" is taken care of I will get back into my routine. The things filed under "this" and "that" are replaced quicker than they are taken care of, and my happy little singing routine falls to the wayside.

Then today I read a passage that really spoke to me, reminded me why I worked so hard to begin with, and why, starting today, I will work twice as hard again. Julie's voice teacher (who she referred to as "Madame"-I love that!) said to her, "Julie, remember: the amateur works until he can get it right. The professional works until he cannot go wrong."

My new resolution: to be a professional, not just in singing, but in life.

It's Alright, Cause It's Midnight and I've Got 2 More Bottles of Wine

2008-06-01T23:11:00.003-05:00

I've had a very long week, considering that I've mainly laid around the house with an infected lymph gland. I ended up looking like the elephant man for the majority of the week, then the first day I could open my jaw up wide enough to eat solid food I had to go back to work. My first thought was-God, is this real life? Four days of complete, pain-killer induced, parentally overseen rest then back to the grind? And no one is giving me a medal? What kind of world do we live in?

Perhaps I'm bitter because I worked two doubles in a row. In real-life-speak that means I worked two days of back to back shifts. Saturday was an 11 hour day with only a 25 minute break-all on my feet. No sitting, one meal, and an overabundance of barely legal co-workers. (It really wasn't as bad as I'm making it out to be, but I'm just totally over not having someone to come home to that says, "Honey, it must have been a hard day. You deserve a hug." Which of course would be followed by a hug.)

The last few months have really given me a lot to think about. I've celebrated (in a mild fashion) several important anniversaries. January 28: a year since I've moved home. February 6: a year since I've talked to Ben. March-ish: a year since I totaled my car and got the new one. May 21: a year working at Chili's. It feels like all the things that happened with Ben were so very long ago, but they are still so within reach. It's been a year. ONLY a year. I am constantly riding myself for not "getting over it", but jeez, I gotta give myself a little credit here. I know I have a long way to go before I am fully healed (and believe me, that is hard to admit because I want to just delete a lot of my memories and reboot), but for where I was a year ago, I'm doing pretty damn good. I thought I could come home and everything would just fix itself. I figured by now I would be, well, perfect. I'm not. And it was ridiculous to think that I would be. It's a fine line to ride-understanding how far you've come and how far you've yet to go.

Part of the healing process has simply been keeping busy. I started performing again, which for me was huge. I started making friends, working full time (after a fashion), going out, working out-creating a life of my own again. Part of that life needs to be balance. And balance includes working out my emotions over what happened with Ben, why it happened, and allowing myself to become okay with it all. Not just SAYING I'm okay, but really being okay. I have a tendency to simply overwhelm my life with distractions so that I don't have to think about what's really bothering me. Well, stuff still bothers me. You know what? It's all right. Cuz it's midnight. And I've got two more bottles of wine.

Makeovers and Technology

2008-05-28T21:43:00.003-05:00

Just a quick note to let ya'll know that I'm trying to figure out how to make this page more...me. It is a complicated procedure, since I don't really speak HTML or XML or any other languages that leave vowels out completely. This pretty little page will be undergoing some major transformations over the next few weeks as I figure all this out, so bear with me and enjoy the many views. If you have any tips, I'm always open to suggestions, especially if they lead to free (that means no $$$, cuz hello, I'm broke) solutions. Live and learn, friends, live and learn!

So It Goes

2008-05-27T19:49:00.003-05:00

This weekend marked the end of The Full Monty, and I ended up feeling much more emotional about it than I expected. Ending a show is always hard-every experience is special, unique, and (usually) hard to let go of. You can never recreate the chemistry that sparks when the right people do the right show together. As you grow in life you bring different things to the table and the recipe changes. Having been in theatre so long now, I rarely get upset about a show closing. I have learned that all good things must, and should, come to an end.

This is the second time time, however, that I have done Monty, and I entered with some hesitation. The first time was a truly life-altering experience...I met some incredible people, worked with an amazing director, and for the first time in my life stepped out of my little ingenue comfort zone to portray two very different characters, both vocally and as an actress. I also fell head over heels in love with every one of the six "Montys". I didn't want to mar the memory of my first Monty experience by doing the show again and possibly have it turn out to be less than ideal.

I don't know if this show just attracts the right people, if the material galvanizes the group to become better than they are, if God was looking out for me and granting me a wish, or if I just got lucky. I'd like to think it was all the above. Once again I fell into a group of people who happened to be exactly what I needed. Performing our final show wasn't so emotional because I felt like I was saying goodbye. It was emotional because I was so full of gratitude and love for the old friends who became closer to me and to the new friends I never knew I needed so much. God works in mysterious ways...who knew He wanted to teach me through six naked men? So to each of my "Montys" I say thank you, for showing me that bravery and beauty comes in all different packages. To my working class women friends, I say thank you for reminding me that I am not alone...and that it's not all about me. And to myself, I say congratulations for allowing yourself to have this experience and love it for what it is itself, and not for what is was before. And thank God for knowing and loving me so well.

Chapter Next

2008-05-22T16:26:00.005-05:00

Less than 24 hours have gone by since I created this new space for myself, and already friends are finding me, reading me, enjoying me, and inviting me into their blogging worlds. It feels good to know there are people out there who care what you think and do and who want to share their innermost thoughts with you as well. I occassionally blog on MySpace and find great joy and comfort in it, and I have already begun to think of this little page as a sanctuary. I am terrible at expressing many things out loud-appreciation, love, the need for help-but words just seem to flow when I sit in front of a keyboard. The written language is a powerful thing that our generation is ignoring and forgoing in favor of a more immediate gratification. Letter writing is a thing of the past, emails are reduced to acronymns, and books are available on cd-or better yet, just rent the movie. Thank goodness for spaces like blogspot, where in some form the written word is reborn and a little humanity is infused to that intangible world wide web.

Reading my friends' blogs is like reading their diaries...they share hopes, dreams, triumphs, sorrows, trivia, tragedies, and so much more. Fifteen minutes of glancing through my friend Tessa's blog gave me a much better idea of what her life and family are like than a year of random emails and comments on MySpace. Every morning now I read my friend Lauren's blog-I know that no matter what, there will be something to make me grateful for waking up and one more reason to love her. Alicia and Chris are chronicling their first attempt at parenthood...and not only am I enjoying it, but Hannah will love reliving those first few months of her life when she is old enough to read and understand.

Perhaps this is yet another attempt for an overdramatic, attention-seeking personality to shout "Here I am, world, look at me!". I don't think it is...I hope to offer my friends a glimpse into the warped workings of my mind. I hope to help others learn from my failures and successes. I hope to remind myself of what I love and am grateful for. I hope to express more clearly my desires, needs, and gratitudes. I hope to communicate. I hope to inspire. In short, I hope.

In the Beginning...

2008-05-21T21:10:00.002-05:00

Well, friends, I have entered the digital age in a big way. Last year I gave in to the MySpace wave...and became totally addicted. The past few months I've continued to feed that addiction by purchasing a new laptop that I can barely turn on, a BlackJack PDA (Samsung's version of the Blackberry) that I can barely answer calls on, and I've subscribed to nearly every online service available from Shutterfly to this, my brand new blog.

I know this isn't much as far as blogs go, but seeing as how I've emailed everyone I know to guide them to this site, I thought I should have a welcome note (WELCOME!) and a series of excuses as to my newest self-indulgence. Much much more will follow (and if you truly know me, then you know that's an understatement!), but for now I'll close by saying...

ummm, how does this thing work again????