I have to take a temporary leave of absence from the Bloggers World. This pregnancy is taking a toll on me. I'm nauseated and tired all the time, and I feel as though my brain is being drained of its creativity juices. The teeny, tiny amount of brain function left in me, I have to devote to my job... since I've just been promoted to Chemist III!!! But honestly, even the thrill of being promoted, or the excitement of renewing my vows and visiting Grand Canyon in two weeks had been sucked out of me. I can't wait for the first trimester to be over. I want my energy and my mind back!
Anyway, I'll be back, I promise. So please hang in there. In the meantime, I'm sending my love to all of you!!!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The Wedding
Exactly a year ago today, I woke up with all the excitement of a woman about to marry the love of her life.
Never mind that it was a preliminary courthouse wedding and it was just the two of us, it was the day we'd vow to spend our lives together and love each other forever. I was a quivering mass of happiness and enthusiasm.
That is... until we had thirty minutes to spare before the wedding, and my vain husband-to-be was still putting gel in his hair! I finished taking a shower, putting on my wedding dress, and doing my hair and make-up all in the span of 40 minutes, while he had been in the bathroom for almost an hour doing God knows what, and still wasn't finished!
Naturally, I began to feel antsy, and started to nag him to hurry up. Although the courthouse was only fifteen minutes away from our place, I wanted to get there a few minutes ahead of time. Having been raised by an uber-punctual dad who drags us to parties and events an hour before the specified time (much to our and the host's consternation), I have learned to be always a few minutes early. You know, in case of unforseen situations! My husband-to-be on the other hand, except for our first few dates when he was still trying to lure me in, and for baseball games where we have club seats with all-you-can-eat-buffet, had rarely been ahead or on time.
Apparently, even for his own wedding.
After 10 minutes of my nagging and prodding, he finally came out of the bathroom looking... admittedly, oh-so-gorgeous, it was almost worth the wait (almost, being the operative word)! But given the current state of mood I was in, I'd be damned if I admit it loudly, so naturally, I kept my mouth shut. We got to the courthouse 15 minutes later, but just as I have dreaded... an unforseen situation! There was no available parking space close by! We had to park half a mile away and walk back to the courthouse. Mind you, it was almost time for the ceremony, the temperature was close to freezing, I was wearing a short, white dress paired with a 2-inch high heeled sandals... and now he tells me I have to walk??!! With every "Relax, we're gonna be fine" that the guy utters, I only get increasingly madder.
We got to the courthouse five minutes late, but to another wedding still ongoing. This naturally, resulted to him giving a victorious smile that basically says I told you so.The usherette came to us and told us what a good-looking couple we were, which predictably, resulted to yet another victorious smile from him.
When it was time for our wedding vows, all my irritation disappeared, replaced by an overflowing love for the man I was marrying. Sure, he's a guy who spends a ridiculous amount of time perfecting every strand of his hair, obsesses in getting every cabinet in the house perfectly organized, drags me to far too many family reunions than I care for, but he's also a man who lovingly takes care of me when I'm sick, who spends several hours trying to find my perfect birthday gift, and who calls me every single day to tell me how much he loves me.
Sometimes, I still can't believe it's been a year, and I'm still very much in love and happy. It's definitely not easy, with all the challenges we had to go through, but I wouldn't wanna change anything given the chance. I love this man with all my heart and there's nobody in this world I'd rather be with than him.
Happy anniversary, Honey!!! Looking forward to our second wedding ceremony in two weeks (where... more importantly, I'd finally get to wear my wedding dress)!
Never mind that it was a preliminary courthouse wedding and it was just the two of us, it was the day we'd vow to spend our lives together and love each other forever. I was a quivering mass of happiness and enthusiasm.
That is... until we had thirty minutes to spare before the wedding, and my vain husband-to-be was still putting gel in his hair! I finished taking a shower, putting on my wedding dress, and doing my hair and make-up all in the span of 40 minutes, while he had been in the bathroom for almost an hour doing God knows what, and still wasn't finished!
Naturally, I began to feel antsy, and started to nag him to hurry up. Although the courthouse was only fifteen minutes away from our place, I wanted to get there a few minutes ahead of time. Having been raised by an uber-punctual dad who drags us to parties and events an hour before the specified time (much to our and the host's consternation), I have learned to be always a few minutes early. You know, in case of unforseen situations! My husband-to-be on the other hand, except for our first few dates when he was still trying to lure me in, and for baseball games where we have club seats with all-you-can-eat-buffet, had rarely been ahead or on time.
Apparently, even for his own wedding.
After 10 minutes of my nagging and prodding, he finally came out of the bathroom looking... admittedly, oh-so-gorgeous, it was almost worth the wait (almost, being the operative word)! But given the current state of mood I was in, I'd be damned if I admit it loudly, so naturally, I kept my mouth shut. We got to the courthouse 15 minutes later, but just as I have dreaded... an unforseen situation! There was no available parking space close by! We had to park half a mile away and walk back to the courthouse. Mind you, it was almost time for the ceremony, the temperature was close to freezing, I was wearing a short, white dress paired with a 2-inch high heeled sandals... and now he tells me I have to walk??!! With every "Relax, we're gonna be fine" that the guy utters, I only get increasingly madder.
We got to the courthouse five minutes late, but to another wedding still ongoing. This naturally, resulted to him giving a victorious smile that basically says I told you so.The usherette came to us and told us what a good-looking couple we were, which predictably, resulted to yet another victorious smile from him.
When it was time for our wedding vows, all my irritation disappeared, replaced by an overflowing love for the man I was marrying. Sure, he's a guy who spends a ridiculous amount of time perfecting every strand of his hair, obsesses in getting every cabinet in the house perfectly organized, drags me to far too many family reunions than I care for, but he's also a man who lovingly takes care of me when I'm sick, who spends several hours trying to find my perfect birthday gift, and who calls me every single day to tell me how much he loves me.
Sometimes, I still can't believe it's been a year, and I'm still very much in love and happy. It's definitely not easy, with all the challenges we had to go through, but I wouldn't wanna change anything given the chance. I love this man with all my heart and there's nobody in this world I'd rather be with than him.
Happy anniversary, Honey!!! Looking forward to our second wedding ceremony in two weeks (where... more importantly, I'd finally get to wear my wedding dress)!
Monday, March 15, 2010
Is October Over Yet?
Remember the post I wrote last week about pregnancy experience as the greatest thing ever? Well... forget it, I'm taking it back!
Here's why...
1. I have to pinch my arm countless of times to keep myself awake during work hours, and then when I get home, all I wanna do is crawl into bed and take a nap.
2. I have to force feed myself everyday because I need to digest something for the baby growing inside of me, but everything taste metallic and bitter.
3. I have to stay away from my poor puppy because his smell makes me wanna puke.
4. I have to stay away from the Hubby (or at least order him to stop wearing any cologne or body spray) because cologne makes me nauseous.
5. My boobs are so sore I can't sleep in my favorite position.
6. I get up every hour to go to the bathroom.
7. I haven't gotten laid in almost a month, and probably won't for three more weeks, until we know for sure that the baby's okay.
8. I'm too hormonal (self explanatory).
9. And the birthing process that I have to go through?... let's not even go there for now.
Honestly God, where did you get the idea that women are the one who's supposed to carry babies? Isn't our emotional instability enough indication?
PS. But God, I'm only kidding! I'd willingly go through this a hundred times for the chance to have a child!
Here's why...
1. I have to pinch my arm countless of times to keep myself awake during work hours, and then when I get home, all I wanna do is crawl into bed and take a nap.
2. I have to force feed myself everyday because I need to digest something for the baby growing inside of me, but everything taste metallic and bitter.
3. I have to stay away from my poor puppy because his smell makes me wanna puke.
4. I have to stay away from the Hubby (or at least order him to stop wearing any cologne or body spray) because cologne makes me nauseous.
5. My boobs are so sore I can't sleep in my favorite position.
6. I get up every hour to go to the bathroom.
7. I haven't gotten laid in almost a month, and probably won't for three more weeks, until we know for sure that the baby's okay.
8. I'm too hormonal (self explanatory).
9. And the birthing process that I have to go through?... let's not even go there for now.
Honestly God, where did you get the idea that women are the one who's supposed to carry babies? Isn't our emotional instability enough indication?
PS. But God, I'm only kidding! I'd willingly go through this a hundred times for the chance to have a child!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Stress Queen
My heart is bleeding right now.
A couple of weeks after I was jumping with joy over the greatest realization that I was pregnant, I was greeted by the news that my cousin's baby died in his wife's womb. The wife was 5 and a half months pregnant when her water broke, forcing her into early delivery. The sad part was that if the incident only happened two weeks later, the baby would have had the chance to survive. As it was, she (aptly named Angelica) didn't stand a chance.
What's even sadder is that I knew how much they wanted that baby. They've been trying for almost 7 years, the last of which were spent in fertility clinics going through IUI's and fertility drugs. They've spent thousands of dollars just to have her! But now, here they are, buying a casket instead of a crib, preparing for a funeral instead of a nursery. My heart bleeds so much for them. I can just imagine the pain and heartache they're going through.
And as someone who's such a Stress Queen (who stresses about being stressed), this predictably had set me into a state of fear. Slight abdominal cramp (possibly imagined) and I start to panic, driving my husband into the brink of utter frustration. The other night I even dreamt that I had a miscarriage, and woke up in the middle of the night crying like a lunatic!I swear off pregnancy books for now, because, my goodness, all they do is stress the heck out of me! Ectopic pregnancy, molar pregnancy, miscarriages... I can definitely live without those thoughts right now.
So instead, here's to happy thoughts... like renewal of vows, endless buffets, Grand Canyon tour, Las Vegas shows, and poolside fun ... all in just a matter of three weeks!!!
A couple of weeks after I was jumping with joy over the greatest realization that I was pregnant, I was greeted by the news that my cousin's baby died in his wife's womb. The wife was 5 and a half months pregnant when her water broke, forcing her into early delivery. The sad part was that if the incident only happened two weeks later, the baby would have had the chance to survive. As it was, she (aptly named Angelica) didn't stand a chance.
What's even sadder is that I knew how much they wanted that baby. They've been trying for almost 7 years, the last of which were spent in fertility clinics going through IUI's and fertility drugs. They've spent thousands of dollars just to have her! But now, here they are, buying a casket instead of a crib, preparing for a funeral instead of a nursery. My heart bleeds so much for them. I can just imagine the pain and heartache they're going through.
And as someone who's such a Stress Queen (who stresses about being stressed), this predictably had set me into a state of fear. Slight abdominal cramp (possibly imagined) and I start to panic, driving my husband into the brink of utter frustration. The other night I even dreamt that I had a miscarriage, and woke up in the middle of the night crying like a lunatic!I swear off pregnancy books for now, because, my goodness, all they do is stress the heck out of me! Ectopic pregnancy, molar pregnancy, miscarriages... I can definitely live without those thoughts right now.
So instead, here's to happy thoughts... like renewal of vows, endless buffets, Grand Canyon tour, Las Vegas shows, and poolside fun ... all in just a matter of three weeks!!!
Monday, March 8, 2010
The Ticket to Laziness, Moodiness and Brattiness
Being pregnant is awesome! I kid you not, it's the greatest thing ever! It's your license to get out of things you don't wanna get into, and to get the things you wanted to get, but normally wouldn't. In short, it's your ticket to laziness, moodiness and brattiness. All legit and perfectly excusable... because your pregnant!
I don't feel like cooking tonight, Honey, I'm too tired!... 'No problem, Babe. Just sit back and relax.'
I can't clean the house, the vacuum is too heavy!.. 'Don't worry, I'll do it.'
Can you grab me a piece of cake in the fridge? I'm craving for one... 'Okay, Honey.'
Don't argue with me, I'm pregnant!... 'Fine, I'm keeping my mouth shut.'
I think you should get me that diamond necklace, I'm carrying your baby!... 'Sure, which one?'
Being pregnant is wonderful... exhaustion, sore boobs and countless trips to the bathroom aside.
I don't feel like cooking tonight, Honey, I'm too tired!... 'No problem, Babe. Just sit back and relax.'
I can't clean the house, the vacuum is too heavy!.. 'Don't worry, I'll do it.'
Can you grab me a piece of cake in the fridge? I'm craving for one... 'Okay, Honey.'
Don't argue with me, I'm pregnant!... 'Fine, I'm keeping my mouth shut.'
I think you should get me that diamond necklace, I'm carrying your baby!... 'Sure, which one?'
Being pregnant is wonderful... exhaustion, sore boobs and countless trips to the bathroom aside.
Friday, March 5, 2010
The Power of a Pink Line
Let me tell you something.
I've been literally trying to hold myself back from spilling the news since the day I found out - for fear that it's all a dream or just a false alarm,- that I sometimes feel like my head's going to explode from all the contained excitement. Well... I decided that before I gross either my neighbors or my co-workers out with scattered brain tissues, I might as well spill the beans!
Drum roll please....
I'm 6 weeks pregnant!!! Yes, you heard it right! P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T, pregnant!!! And the most wonderful thing is, Hubby and I did it without the expensive help of science! Just the tried and tested, old-fashioned baby-making technique!
As some you already knew, we had been trying to conceive since Month Two of our married life. However, after seven months of amazing sex with no luck, we finally went to a doctor who performed ridiculously ASSpensive tests, and told us we have infertility issues and that the only way we'll conceive is through the help of science! This naturally resulted to me crying at every diaper commercials, and becoming painfully aware of how many pregnant Moms there are in every grocery stores or how many crying babies there are in churches during the few occasions that I go.
Fortunately, before we even get to the money-draining Plan B, the undoubtedly enjoyable (except for the occasional times when I or Hubs wasn't in the mood and it starts to feel more like work) and natural Plan A worked!
Predictably, I've been on cloud nine since the day that precious pink line showed up in all three of my pregnancy tests. (I just have to be completely sure!) There are times when I still find it so hard to believe. I keep expecting myself to wake up and realize it's all a dream. I've been so used to disappointments, month after month, that my happiness is sometimes still tinged with fear. I know the next couple of months are crucial, as miscarriages are more prevalent on the first trimester, but I have faith. If before I don't believe in miracles, I definitely do now. This is our miracle! God answered our prayers and I can only hope that He continues to do so, and give us a strong, healthy, smart and beautiful baby. Boy or girl... I don't care.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Caught Between a Rock and a Hard Place
I'm a die-hard 'Friends' fanatic. My love for that show is parallel to my love for shopping, watermelon and all things beach-related. I watch the re-runs on TV everytime they're on (which is like, everyday!), even though I own the complete DVD series. (Talk about obsessed!)
But that's not the point of this post.
The point is that, last night, I watched an episode of Friends where Rachel's a-hole but ravishingly yummy, Italian boyfriend made a pass at Phoebe, while she was trying to give him a body massage. This resulted to Phoebe having the obvious dilemna of whether to tell Rachel or not. In the end, she did, Rachel believed her and broke up with her boyfriend, and everything went well.
This of course, brought me to memory lane and reminded me of a kinda similar scenario that happened back in my graduate school days. I say kinda, because the guy didn't make a pass at me (thank God, or I'd be serving jailtime for punching him in the face!), but cheated on a friend of mine with a questionably hot woman... and I caught him! And also because, my life - despite all my prayers and wishful thinking, isn't a TV show or a fairy tale, and that unlike Rachel and Phoebe, things didn't go well between me and my friend after I told her!
Instead, like a true one-lab-accident-from-being-a-supervillain that she turned out to be, she accused me of lying and being jealous because at that time, she's got a boyfriend and I didn't. (Oh women, why are we so complicated?) She completely cut me off from her life and continued dating the guy. But as far as I knew, it only lasted for another month or so, because the next thing I've heard, they've broken up. I can only assume that she found out for herself what a douchebag he really was.
I thought after their break-up, she'd be on her knees begging for forgiveness and telling me that I'm the greatest friend to ever roam planet Earth. No such luck! For a while, I missed her and wondered if I made the right decision, but then thought... wait a minute, if she were my true friend, she would have trusted me and believed that I only had the best intentions!
So, in my early-twenties Drama Queen fashion, I said... Eff it! She can stick our friendship up her royal butt!
What would you do if you we're in my shoes? Would you tell your friend or just let her find out for herself?
Monday, March 1, 2010
For the Sake of Fashion
The Hubby and I had been walking at the mall for two hours the other day, when I started whining.
"I gotta rest. My feet are killing me."
He looked at my 2 1/2-inch high-heeled boots and said, "Why did you wear those shoes? You knew we were gonna go shopping!"
Oh crap, the guy's got a point! Too bad my brain wasn't functioning when I was getting ready to head out of the door! But... like a typical wife, I'd be darned if I admit that I was wrong, and that he was, for once in his life, right about something. So instead, I gave him the most brilliant explanation I can come up with.
"Honey, these boots make me look taller and walk sexier. Sometimes, you just gotta sacrifice comfort for the sake of fashion!"
And with that, tried to walk as sexily as I can with a slight limp in my gait.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Of Wedding Dresses and Losing Weight
I think I might have to stop donating to the gym and start using it for real.
Allow me to explain.
A year and a half ago, or two months after my then-boyfriend (and now-husband) finally realized he couldn't live without me and asked me to marry him, I went to David's Bridal with my sister with the sole intention of just-to-look. We came to the door, and were greeted by a saleswoman who's got a very strong persuasive power she'd probably convince Rush Limbaugh to become a Democrat. I told her what my intention was, and off she went to bring out dresses I could try on. I did, and one dress in particular caught my eye and sent my heart into a frenzy flutter. I knew right then and there it was the ONE. I just have to have it! It didn't matter that we haven't set a wedding date at that time. Between the saleslady's strong persuasive powers and my typical shopaholic's ability of turning just-to-look into i-gotta-buy, I knew my willpower's at the losing end. Well... I don't have to tell you how that battle played out.
Fast forward to the present.
I ended up just having a preliminary civil wedding, and since I didn't wanna look like a crazy, overdressed bride walking around the courthouse, I decided to wear a short, simpler dress. I figured I'll just wear the ONE when the right time comes.
Unfortunately, I didn't take into consideration what a year of marriage does to people... it makes you gain weight!
So yesterday, I was trying on my size 2 wedding dress when I realized... que horror, I couldn't get into it!!! This naturally resulted to me screaming for Hubby at the top of my lungs he thought I cut off my arm or something. With his help and some belly-tucking and breath-holding, I finally got into my dress. It still fits, although obviously... just barely.
So now, here I am, onto my 35-day mission of losing at least five pounds before our vow renewal ceremony. I'm starting tomorrow. Let's see how long will I last. If you haven't guessed yet, I'm not a fitness buff, but right now, I've got the motivation!
Needless to say, my husband - the workout junkie, was so happy, he's thinking of renewing our wedding vows every year. You know... if that's what it takes to get me to the gym.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
If You're a Mistress of a Man You Knew Is Married, Do You Deserve an Apology?
I've had enough of this Tiger Woods drama, as I'm sure you are too. I wasn't actually planning on writing anything about the whole saga, because frankly, I think his personal life is supposed to be that... personal and private. I think we should just care about what he does in the golf course and nothing else. But the latest development had me boiling to the core that I just felt a terrible need to talk about it. (This would be my first and last post about this, I promise!)
The thing is, his alleged mistress is demanding a public apology from him. When I heard this, my intial reaction was... What? Say that again? She wants an apology, like she deserves one? Her Hollywood lawyer (Gloria Allred) explained that he should, because he pursued her, lied to her, told her she's the only one, blah, blah, blah.
Now, wait a minute, you sad, pathetic woman! Don't tell me she doesn't know that Tiger Woods have a wife and children! It's only all over the news since they got married! Unless she's making porn movies cooped up in a shack in Timbuktu, there's no way in hell she doesn't know he's married. Why don't the two of you just tell us honestly what you really hope to gain by doing this?
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not on Tiger Woods' side either. Frankly, I think he's a douchebag for cheating on his wife. I've been cheated on before and the experience left me with such a bitter taste, that my resulting hatred for cheaters continue to run through my veins. The pain of heartache coupled with the pain of betrayal was too much to handle that I almost had a breakdown. I had moved on since then, but I can't say, even after four long years, that I have completely forgiven the guy.
However, I also think that if you knowingly enter an affair with a married man/woman (or someone in a relationship), you're as guilty as the cheater. You're officially a homewrecker! I know sometimes it's hard to choose who to fall in love with, but you don't have to let your heart (or crotch) rule over your head. Your brain is on top of your body for that reason! If you do, then don't expect any sympathy. Especially if you're a woman like her who's probably not even in love with Tiger Woods, but only after his money and fame. Show some dignity, woman!
My dear friends, what's your take on this? Discuss.
The thing is, his alleged mistress is demanding a public apology from him. When I heard this, my intial reaction was... What? Say that again? She wants an apology, like she deserves one? Her Hollywood lawyer (Gloria Allred) explained that he should, because he pursued her, lied to her, told her she's the only one, blah, blah, blah.
Now, wait a minute, you sad, pathetic woman! Don't tell me she doesn't know that Tiger Woods have a wife and children! It's only all over the news since they got married! Unless she's making porn movies cooped up in a shack in Timbuktu, there's no way in hell she doesn't know he's married. Why don't the two of you just tell us honestly what you really hope to gain by doing this?
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not on Tiger Woods' side either. Frankly, I think he's a douchebag for cheating on his wife. I've been cheated on before and the experience left me with such a bitter taste, that my resulting hatred for cheaters continue to run through my veins. The pain of heartache coupled with the pain of betrayal was too much to handle that I almost had a breakdown. I had moved on since then, but I can't say, even after four long years, that I have completely forgiven the guy.
However, I also think that if you knowingly enter an affair with a married man/woman (or someone in a relationship), you're as guilty as the cheater. You're officially a homewrecker! I know sometimes it's hard to choose who to fall in love with, but you don't have to let your heart (or crotch) rule over your head. Your brain is on top of your body for that reason! If you do, then don't expect any sympathy. Especially if you're a woman like her who's probably not even in love with Tiger Woods, but only after his money and fame. Show some dignity, woman!
My dear friends, what's your take on this? Discuss.
Monday, February 22, 2010
For the Love of Dancing
Last Saturday, after days of constant prodding and promises of nudity, I finally convinced the Hubby to take me dancing. The last time I've been to a dance club was when Justin Timberlake was still trying to bring the sexy back (which is like three years ago, when I was still in graduate school), and I just felt this terrible need to release my pent-up dance energy. Next to shopping and eating ice cream, I love, love, love dancing! Unfortunately, I married an old soul trapped in a hot, young body who doesn't. Well... at least, I was able to convince him to take me.
So off to the club we went.
A minute after we started dancing, I finally understood. The poor guy can't dance for the life of him! (This is a sort of thing I should have known during the wedding dance. Unfortunately we didn't have one). At some point, I think I might have laughed at the way he danced that he decided he has done his husbandly duty of pleasing me and just stood beside me watching me dance. And no amount of prodding and begging could make him dance again.
But I decided that nothing can ruin my night. Who knew when the Hubs will take me out again?
So I continued dancing around him, oblivious to anybody who might be watching.
And there I was, dancing happily and uninhibitedly, when my eyes came into contact with a guy who winked naughtily at me. All of a sudden, I realized how I must have looked like dancing sexily around a standing pole of a man! I looked around and sure enough, I gathered a few interested audience. Slightly embarrased, I told the Hubby to start dancing or else...
So off to the club we went.
A minute after we started dancing, I finally understood. The poor guy can't dance for the life of him! (This is a sort of thing I should have known during the wedding dance. Unfortunately we didn't have one). At some point, I think I might have laughed at the way he danced that he decided he has done his husbandly duty of pleasing me and just stood beside me watching me dance. And no amount of prodding and begging could make him dance again.
But I decided that nothing can ruin my night. Who knew when the Hubs will take me out again?
So I continued dancing around him, oblivious to anybody who might be watching.
And there I was, dancing happily and uninhibitedly, when my eyes came into contact with a guy who winked naughtily at me. All of a sudden, I realized how I must have looked like dancing sexily around a standing pole of a man! I looked around and sure enough, I gathered a few interested audience. Slightly embarrased, I told the Hubby to start dancing or else...
After that night, I came home with two realizations... (1) that it's better to take my girlfriends next time I go clubbing, and (2) that I might have discovered the perfect back-up job in case this Chemistry gig doesn't pan out.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
I'm Married to a Smart Ass
I told The Hubby last night that I wanna be a Product Manager or Techology Director in the future. My number of years pretending to listen to my boss (or any boss for that matter), and imagining giving him the finger when he's being a jerk, is almost close to its limit. I'm contemplating on pursuing an MBA to help me in my quest, or maybe applying for a Lab Manager position as my next step. I'm pretty much tired of being micromanaged most of the time.
My sweet, ever-supportive husband decided to encourage me.
"Sure Honey, I think you should go for it. If you need recommendation, I'll even give you one. I, for one, can definitely vouch that you're good at bossing people around!"
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Olympic Fever
I turned on the television to watch the Olympic Games the other day, and was greeted by the sight of two men - who I thought were part of the cleaning crew- sweeping the surface of an iced court. (Talk about clueless!). Okay, it was breaktime... or so I thought, until the crowd started cheering loudly. I focused my attention on the screen and paused...wait a minute... am I actually watching a game?!! Could it really be... that I'm watching an olympic sports?
Turned out, I really was. It's called curling!
I couldn't understand how it could be an event, but whatever, I decided to watch it long enough to get the hang of it. And soon enough, I did understand the basics... one guy has to slide a stone down the ice, towards the center of goal, while his two teammates help guide the stone using a broom or a brush or whatever its called.
Turned out, I really was. It's called curling!
I couldn't understand how it could be an event, but whatever, I decided to watch it long enough to get the hang of it. And soon enough, I did understand the basics... one guy has to slide a stone down the ice, towards the center of goal, while his two teammates help guide the stone using a broom or a brush or whatever its called.
To be honest with you, I spent the first 24 years of my life not caring a hoot about the Olympics. Or any sports for that matter. I grew up as a bookworm who was always buried in books and involved in academic competitions (I sound so boring as a kid, don't I?). But one fateful day, six years ago, I turned on the television and saw Michael Phelps's hot bod, swimming gracefully and oh-so-fast in the water, it was almost unbelievable! Soon enough, I found myself watching each and every one of his events. And then some. And before I knew it, I was hooked. On Michael Phelps and the Summer Olympics.
So now, here I am, venturing into the Winter Olympic World as well. Although definitely not with the same passionate enthusiasm! I do love figure skating, speed skating and snowboarding, but curling? Not a big fan. Oh well... maybe I should just really open my mind, and accept the fact that Olympics doesn't just revolve around half-naked and very hot men in swim trunks hurrying to get to the finish line, or gorgeous guys in shorts kicking the ball to score a goal!
Anyway, what's your favorite summer or winter olympic event? Anybody who's a big fan of curling? Maybe you can enlighten me more about the game.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Domesticated Wife
Yesterday, since Cleveland was being hammered with snow again (like it's something new!), and the Hubby had a doctor's appointment that I had to tag along to, I decided to declare it my holiday and take the day off. I figured it would also be the perfect time to show him that I'm not just a sweet, smart and pretty wife (hey, this is my blog, I can say anything I want!), but a domestic one as well. I wanted him to think he married the perfect woman - moodiness and crankiness aside. You know... in exchange, for being an awesome husband and sending me a beautiful bouquet of flowers at my work!
So right after I woke up, I decided to clean the entire house. I took out the vacuum cleaner, the mop, and all the cleaning supplies. Halfway through vacuuming however, the darn machine decided to break down. With almost two-thirds of the house done, I opted to just move to the next task. Who peeks in corners and under the beds, anyway?
Next... cook a lovely dinner. There I was, sauteing chicken while uninhibitedly dancing to Rihanna's music, when my cellphone rang. It was a friend I invited to our upcoming vow renewal ceremony. And as we were getting carried away talking about the wedding plans, I realized.... wait a minute, I was cooking something! Well, I don't have to tell you how that lovely dinner turned out.
Finally, I decided to just wash the dishes from the other night. Because... that's just how domesticated I am. Just as I'm sure you had predicted, one of the drinking glasses broke, and cut my tiny finger! Blood started oozing out. Lots of it! Now, I have an aversion to blood and faint at the sight of too much of it, so this, naturally, triggered a big panic. But you'd be proud of me. Really proud. Because I bravely took out a gauze, and dressed my own wound! And did it with alternate closing of each eye! Everything went smoothly, until I realized I still have to take a shower so I can go to the doctor. I ran out of those vinyl gloves at home, so you can just imagine the pain I went through washing my hair with one hand.
In the end, I was just so glad that I have a husband who prepares his own lunch, washes his own clothes, clean the house and loves me for who I am. Domesticated or not.
My wonderful girlfriends, are you a domestic woman? And does your significant other care if you are? And for men, is being domesticated one of your criteria in choosing the woman to marry?
Monday, February 15, 2010
One Year
Next month, March 17 to be exact, marks one year of my challenging, but utterly amazing married life.
To some of you who had been following my blog for quite some time now, you're already familiar with how our love story unfolded. But for those of you who are new, you can just always go back to the story of how we met, fell in love, got engaged and finally... got married.
And lived happily ever after. No problems, no conflicts, no worries. Just happiness...sheer happiness.
Yeah, right!
Who am I kidding? This is real life, people! Not some chick flick or a fairy tale.
However, I can definitely say that I'm mostly happy. Especially on days when the Hubby accepts the fact that yourstruly is always right. On days when he doesn't, well... that's a different story.
But kidding aside, my husband is an amazing guy. He's ravishingly hot, unbelievably smart, occasionally funny ;-), and completely sweet. And he loves me unconditionally... which is the best thing ever!
I'd be lying though, if I say that our life had been very easy. As I wrote in my post a few months ago, we've been dealing with some infertility issues. This, naturally, translates to emotional and financial stress. We were planning to have a small but elaborate beach wedding in the Philippines this year ( since we only had a courthouse wedding), but with our current situation, it's hard to make it happen. At least, not for the next couple of years. But, there's a but....
We're going to Las Vegas for our anniversary celebration, and renew our vows at Mt. Charleston in Nevada! Just as we met while hiking on a mini-mountain, we're also getting married on a mountain. Sounds wholly fitting, don't you think? We'll have my sister and seven of our closest friends as our guests, so there's no doubt that that weekend would be filled with love, booze and gambling fun. And thank God, I'd finally get to wear the wedding dress that I bought more than a year ago!
Needless to say, I'm already counting the days!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Flowers for Men?
In light of it being Valentines Day (though not a big fan of the day), let me ask you this...
Ladies, would you ever consider sending flowers to a guy you're dating/married to?
Gents, would you feel comfortable receiving flowers from a woman?
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
The Proposal
A wonderful friend of mine had been with her boyfriend for almost eight years... three of which were spent living together. Like any normal woman who's in love and is dreaming of having a fairy tale family (and also with a biological clock that's ticking), she's dying to have a ring on her finger.
The guy, however, has a different idea. He keeps coming up with excuses.
I'm not ready yet.
I'm not sure if I wanna have kids.
I don't think I have enough money to support a family.
My friend, the ever-patient saint, finally got fed up one day, and told him that if the relationship doesn't move forward in the next few months, she's hauling her tush out of the apartment.
A couple of weeks later, she came home to the sight of her boyfriend playing videogame in the living room. The guy looked up, acknowledged her presence and said...
"Hey babe, your ring is on the table. You said you wanted to get married."
And then went back to playing his stupid videogame.
I'm giving the guy an award. WORST PROPOSAL EVER.
My dear friends, what would you do if a guy proposed to you that way? Would you accept it? Have you ever heard of some horrible proposal stories? Do share.
The guy, however, has a different idea. He keeps coming up with excuses.
I'm not ready yet.
I'm not sure if I wanna have kids.
I don't think I have enough money to support a family.
My friend, the ever-patient saint, finally got fed up one day, and told him that if the relationship doesn't move forward in the next few months, she's hauling her tush out of the apartment.
A couple of weeks later, she came home to the sight of her boyfriend playing videogame in the living room. The guy looked up, acknowledged her presence and said...
"Hey babe, your ring is on the table. You said you wanted to get married."
And then went back to playing his stupid videogame.
I'm giving the guy an award. WORST PROPOSAL EVER.
My dear friends, what would you do if a guy proposed to you that way? Would you accept it? Have you ever heard of some horrible proposal stories? Do share.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Miss Independent
Yesterday, I decided to assert my independence and stay at home by myself, while the Hubby visits his family in Michigan. I haven't had a Me Time in a while and I definitely miss Me. House all to myself, with no husband and no puppy to worry about? No complaints here!
I had the whole Saturday planned... wake up unusually late, lose myself in a bubble bath while reading 'I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell' (interesting book by Tucker Max, by the way), indulge in fattening foods, be a couch potato, and have dinner with some girl friends while talking about boys. Sounded like the perfect plan to me.
And sure enough, for half of the day, it was.
I was in heaven... pure, unadulterated heaven!
That is, until I started to leave the house, opened the garage door and saw 10 inches of freaking snow in the driveway!
But of course, being a Miss Independent, I told myself... no worries! I've lived without a man before. I can do anything a man can do! How hard could it be? I've changed my own lightbulbs, hang my pictures on the wall, assembled my new furnitures... shoveling snow shouldn't be any different!
Boy, was I ever wrong!
Fifteen minutes into shoveling snow, and I was freaking exhausted! Every inch of my body was screaming pain. Especially my lower back. If it weren't for my dying desire to hang out with my girlfriends, I would have locked myself inside and just stayed home the whole weekend. But I wanted to get out. Bad. For a while, I contemplated waiting for some sort of a miracle that would get my car out of the driveway. Like a sudden intense global warming to melt the ice on my side of the planet, or my white lighter husband unexpectedly orbing home to shovel the snow. But if my luck with raffle tickets or lotto is any indication, I knew such miracle would never happen to me. So while chanting,' You can do it Chloe, you're Miss independent' over and over, I finished shoveling half of the driveway. Yes, half! Just enough to let my car out. The Hubby can call me Lazy Butt anytime he wants, I don't care, he can do the rest when he gets back.
And fine, I concede! Screw independence! I definitely need a man.
If only for the purpose of shoveling snow.
I guess that explains why the Hubby still hasn't bought a snow blower.
I had the whole Saturday planned... wake up unusually late, lose myself in a bubble bath while reading 'I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell' (interesting book by Tucker Max, by the way), indulge in fattening foods, be a couch potato, and have dinner with some girl friends while talking about boys. Sounded like the perfect plan to me.
And sure enough, for half of the day, it was.
I was in heaven... pure, unadulterated heaven!
That is, until I started to leave the house, opened the garage door and saw 10 inches of freaking snow in the driveway!
But of course, being a Miss Independent, I told myself... no worries! I've lived without a man before. I can do anything a man can do! How hard could it be? I've changed my own lightbulbs, hang my pictures on the wall, assembled my new furnitures... shoveling snow shouldn't be any different!
Boy, was I ever wrong!
Fifteen minutes into shoveling snow, and I was freaking exhausted! Every inch of my body was screaming pain. Especially my lower back. If it weren't for my dying desire to hang out with my girlfriends, I would have locked myself inside and just stayed home the whole weekend. But I wanted to get out. Bad. For a while, I contemplated waiting for some sort of a miracle that would get my car out of the driveway. Like a sudden intense global warming to melt the ice on my side of the planet, or my white lighter husband unexpectedly orbing home to shovel the snow. But if my luck with raffle tickets or lotto is any indication, I knew such miracle would never happen to me. So while chanting,' You can do it Chloe, you're Miss independent' over and over, I finished shoveling half of the driveway. Yes, half! Just enough to let my car out. The Hubby can call me Lazy Butt anytime he wants, I don't care, he can do the rest when he gets back.
And fine, I concede! Screw independence! I definitely need a man.
If only for the purpose of shoveling snow.
I guess that explains why the Hubby still hasn't bought a snow blower.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Love is a Grave Mental Disease
"Love is a grave mental disease." ~ Plato
So last night, one of my best friends called me up and tearfully asked me what should she do with a piece of garbage...okay, okay... a man, she was madly in love with.
I gave her the most brilliant suggestion I could come up with: knock on his door, kick him repeatedly with her 3-inch high-heeled shoe where it hurts the most, and show him that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
This pathetic excuse of a man calls her up, have sex with her, disappear for days, calls her up, have sex with her, disappear again, calls her up... get the drift?
Now you're probably wondering, why does she put up with it? Beats me! Although... she said she's in love with him, or something to that effect. Which is even more of a mystery to me. Granted, he does have a nice body, but... I just don't see the attraction in other departments!
Okay, I'd probably understand if she's a plump version of Cruella de Vil that the only guys she can attract are losers and a-holes, but... she's a beautiful woman! One of the prettiest women I've met, in fact. Good guys are lining up to worship the ground she walks on. But just like the rest of the love-crazed female population, she gravitates towards the I-drink-like-there's-no-tomorrow, party-like-crazy, have-an-ego-the-size-of-a-pregnant-blue-whale, come-chase-after-me type of guys. And to think she's got a Masters degree in Chemistry! You'd think she's smart, right? And she is... just not in the love department. Apparently.
But who am I to talk? Really! I was the woman who went gaga over a guy, and for almost a year of my young life, stood by him through his black-to-yellow-to-blue-to-blonde-to-black-again hair color changes (talk about confusion!), hoping at some point he'd get struck by a meteor or cupid's arrow or whatever, and realize that I was the the woman of his dreams! Turned out years later, he wasn't looking for a woman, but the man of his dreams. What the hell was I thinking? I mean, how the heck did I miss the signs? It was so blatantly clear when he enthusiastically agreed that Mark Wahlberg was freaking hot! Was love really that blind?
But... it has been ten years since, and it's all water under the bridge now. Sure, I still cringe in embarrasment when I think about it, but I more than made up for it when I married an amazing, no-question-about-it, totally straight man.
Anyhoo, years later, after I found out the shocking truth, I immediately took out my Mr. Right Requirements list and crossed out an item.
#8.Wants the same thing in life as I do.
I definitely didn't want a man who also wanted a man!
So last night, one of my best friends called me up and tearfully asked me what should she do with a piece of garbage...okay, okay... a man, she was madly in love with.
I gave her the most brilliant suggestion I could come up with: knock on his door, kick him repeatedly with her 3-inch high-heeled shoe where it hurts the most, and show him that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
This pathetic excuse of a man calls her up, have sex with her, disappear for days, calls her up, have sex with her, disappear again, calls her up... get the drift?
Now you're probably wondering, why does she put up with it? Beats me! Although... she said she's in love with him, or something to that effect. Which is even more of a mystery to me. Granted, he does have a nice body, but... I just don't see the attraction in other departments!
Okay, I'd probably understand if she's a plump version of Cruella de Vil that the only guys she can attract are losers and a-holes, but... she's a beautiful woman! One of the prettiest women I've met, in fact. Good guys are lining up to worship the ground she walks on. But just like the rest of the love-crazed female population, she gravitates towards the I-drink-like-there's-no-tomorrow, party-like-crazy, have-an-ego-the-size-of-a-pregnant-blue-whale, come-chase-after-me type of guys. And to think she's got a Masters degree in Chemistry! You'd think she's smart, right? And she is... just not in the love department. Apparently.
But who am I to talk? Really! I was the woman who went gaga over a guy, and for almost a year of my young life, stood by him through his black-to-yellow-to-blue-to-blonde-to-black-again hair color changes (talk about confusion!), hoping at some point he'd get struck by a meteor or cupid's arrow or whatever, and realize that I was the the woman of his dreams! Turned out years later, he wasn't looking for a woman, but the man of his dreams. What the hell was I thinking? I mean, how the heck did I miss the signs? It was so blatantly clear when he enthusiastically agreed that Mark Wahlberg was freaking hot! Was love really that blind?
But... it has been ten years since, and it's all water under the bridge now. Sure, I still cringe in embarrasment when I think about it, but I more than made up for it when I married an amazing, no-question-about-it, totally straight man.
Anyhoo, years later, after I found out the shocking truth, I immediately took out my Mr. Right Requirements list and crossed out an item.
#8.
I definitely didn't want a man who also wanted a man!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The One With My Attempt To Do a Public Service Announcement
A friendly reminder to all the clueless drivers out there...
1. Just because you signaled your intent to change lane doesn't mean I should give way to you right away, and let you cut me off and move to my lane the minute you want to. You don't own the road, and it's my right of way, you know.
2. A YIELD sign means, well... yield. That is why, when you're trying to merge to a freeway and see that yield sign, you should do exactly that and yield ( I can't stress this enough!), instead of speeding up and trying to get ahead of me. Again, it's my right of way.
3. There's a reason why the law prohibits tailing and specifies a safe distance between two cars on a highway. Because it's safer! Yes... S-A-F-E-R... safer! To prevent 'clueless drivers' (and by that I meant another word) like you from running smack dab into the car ahead, in case the other person had an absolute need to stop immediately. In case you don't know, you need longer distance and more force to brake on time when you're running at a speed of least 65 miles per hour.
4. A yellow light doesn't mean... hurry up and do a left turn, while you're waiting right there, in the center of a four-way intersection! There's a big chance you'll run into another idiot on the opposite side of the road who also thinks that yellow light means speed up before it turns into red.
5. If you're gonna drive below the speed limit, please, I beg of you, stay on the right lane.
6. And finally... no, don't take George Carlin's words seriously, because he was only kidding when he said that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot and anyone going faster than you is a maniac. Contrary to what you might be thinking, you're not the best driver in the world. So stop the road rage, refrain (as best as you can) from honking and giving the finger, and lay easy on calling people idiots. Okay, okay... you can, but only when they're tailing you too close or when they cut you off! And even then, just keep it to yourself to avoid huge fights.
I say all these with the best intentions.
1. Just because you signaled your intent to change lane doesn't mean I should give way to you right away, and let you cut me off and move to my lane the minute you want to. You don't own the road, and it's my right of way, you know.
2. A YIELD sign means, well... yield. That is why, when you're trying to merge to a freeway and see that yield sign, you should do exactly that and yield ( I can't stress this enough!), instead of speeding up and trying to get ahead of me. Again, it's my right of way.
3. There's a reason why the law prohibits tailing and specifies a safe distance between two cars on a highway. Because it's safer! Yes... S-A-F-E-R... safer! To prevent 'clueless drivers' (and by that I meant another word) like you from running smack dab into the car ahead, in case the other person had an absolute need to stop immediately. In case you don't know, you need longer distance and more force to brake on time when you're running at a speed of least 65 miles per hour.
4. A yellow light doesn't mean... hurry up and do a left turn, while you're waiting right there, in the center of a four-way intersection! There's a big chance you'll run into another idiot on the opposite side of the road who also thinks that yellow light means speed up before it turns into red.
5. If you're gonna drive below the speed limit, please, I beg of you, stay on the right lane.
6. And finally... no, don't take George Carlin's words seriously, because he was only kidding when he said that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot and anyone going faster than you is a maniac. Contrary to what you might be thinking, you're not the best driver in the world. So stop the road rage, refrain (as best as you can) from honking and giving the finger, and lay easy on calling people idiots. Okay, okay... you can, but only when they're tailing you too close or when they cut you off! And even then, just keep it to yourself to avoid huge fights.
I say all these with the best intentions.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
The One With My Mom's Addiction to Facebook
Apparently, Facebook is a disease that has afflicted even the older generations.
My Mom is the living proof. Ever since she had discovered the world of facebook, she had left the world of Harlequin romances and cooking shows, and had gone off to delight herself with real life stories of who's married to whom, who's fertilized whose Farmville farms, and who threw a love pillow at whom. Her number of friends is rapidly growing at an alarming exponential rate! I say alarming, since I have a feeling, that given a few more months, she'll have more friends than me... and who would wanna admit that her mother is more popular than her? Turned out, she's searched all her gradeschool and highschool classmates, and each and every one of her and my Dad's relatives.
And who would have guessed that my uncle's 60-year old socially awkward wife, or my 72-year old cat-loving grand-aunt are tech savvies who have facebook profiles?
Truth be told, I don't mind my Mom's rising popularity. What I do mind is logging on to my facebook account, and discovering I've been tagged in some not-so-flattering childhood pictures that she uploaded to amuse our relatives and friends! Apparently, my definition of embarassing is the equivalent of amusing to her. I won't elaborate, but suffice it to say that the pictures have made my husband a believer of the theory of evolution and the ugly duckling story, and left him profusely thanking God for my transformation.
I'm beginning to think my sister was so smart in declining my mother's friend request.
My Mom is the living proof. Ever since she had discovered the world of facebook, she had left the world of Harlequin romances and cooking shows, and had gone off to delight herself with real life stories of who's married to whom, who's fertilized whose Farmville farms, and who threw a love pillow at whom. Her number of friends is rapidly growing at an alarming exponential rate! I say alarming, since I have a feeling, that given a few more months, she'll have more friends than me... and who would wanna admit that her mother is more popular than her? Turned out, she's searched all her gradeschool and highschool classmates, and each and every one of her and my Dad's relatives.
And who would have guessed that my uncle's 60-year old socially awkward wife, or my 72-year old cat-loving grand-aunt are tech savvies who have facebook profiles?
Truth be told, I don't mind my Mom's rising popularity. What I do mind is logging on to my facebook account, and discovering I've been tagged in some not-so-flattering childhood pictures that she uploaded to amuse our relatives and friends! Apparently, my definition of embarassing is the equivalent of amusing to her. I won't elaborate, but suffice it to say that the pictures have made my husband a believer of the theory of evolution and the ugly duckling story, and left him profusely thanking God for my transformation.
I'm beginning to think my sister was so smart in declining my mother's friend request.
Friday, January 29, 2010
The One With My Supposedly Speeding Ticket
So this morning, on my way to work, I got out of another one of my supposedly speeding tickets.
And contrary to what you might be thinking, no, I didn't bat my eyelashes coquettishly, showed off some cleavage (not that I have a lot to show), nor tried to bribe the officer. I swear! I didn't do anything, except sit quietly and smile nervously.
My husband seems to think it's my sweet, innocent-looking face that fools people into believing that I am, in no way, capable of doing anything wrong. Of course, there's a huge probability that he just wanted to get laid tonight so he'll say anything. But then again, maybe not, because the jerk added that if only people really knew me like he does, they'll know the truth. Even so, he might be on to something. I look pretty angelic, you know. ;-) Just don't come knocking at my door very early on a weekend morning or you'll get the biggest shock of your life.
Anyhoo, so there I was, driving happily while yakking on the phone (I know, I know... I'm horrible), oblivious to the possibility that I might be driving at 75 to 80 miles an hour (who knows for sure?) on a 65 mph speed limit. Out of nowhere, this cop car appeared ( I swear, they've learned their tricks from Harry Potter for being masters of invisibility) and started following me. I knew I was in deep sh*t the minute the dreaded blue and red siren lights started flashing. So I parked my car on the roadside, rolled down my window, and like a kid in a principal's office awaiting nervously for whats's to come, sat quietly and bite my nails until the cop came to my car.
The police came, took one look at me, and said "You know, I'm just gonna let you go. I wasn't sure if it was you or another red car. Just drive carefully, okay?"
So whether I was really speeding or not, we'll never know for sure. All I know is that this is the third time I got pulled over and let go. So either I really have a sweet, innocent-looking face or the gods must be watching over me. In fact, I can brag that I am, TECHNICALLY, a law-abiding citizen, as I have never had any single speeding ticket in the five years I've been driving in the United States.
But... knock on wood. My luck usually runs out after I brag.
And contrary to what you might be thinking, no, I didn't bat my eyelashes coquettishly, showed off some cleavage (not that I have a lot to show), nor tried to bribe the officer. I swear! I didn't do anything, except sit quietly and smile nervously.
My husband seems to think it's my sweet, innocent-looking face that fools people into believing that I am, in no way, capable of doing anything wrong. Of course, there's a huge probability that he just wanted to get laid tonight so he'll say anything. But then again, maybe not, because the jerk added that if only people really knew me like he does, they'll know the truth. Even so, he might be on to something. I look pretty angelic, you know. ;-) Just don't come knocking at my door very early on a weekend morning or you'll get the biggest shock of your life.
Anyhoo, so there I was, driving happily while yakking on the phone (I know, I know... I'm horrible), oblivious to the possibility that I might be driving at 75 to 80 miles an hour (who knows for sure?) on a 65 mph speed limit. Out of nowhere, this cop car appeared ( I swear, they've learned their tricks from Harry Potter for being masters of invisibility) and started following me. I knew I was in deep sh*t the minute the dreaded blue and red siren lights started flashing. So I parked my car on the roadside, rolled down my window, and like a kid in a principal's office awaiting nervously for whats's to come, sat quietly and bite my nails until the cop came to my car.
The police came, took one look at me, and said "You know, I'm just gonna let you go. I wasn't sure if it was you or another red car. Just drive carefully, okay?"
So whether I was really speeding or not, we'll never know for sure. All I know is that this is the third time I got pulled over and let go. So either I really have a sweet, innocent-looking face or the gods must be watching over me. In fact, I can brag that I am, TECHNICALLY, a law-abiding citizen, as I have never had any single speeding ticket in the five years I've been driving in the United States.
But... knock on wood. My luck usually runs out after I brag.
Monday, January 25, 2010
The One With My Lack of Organizational Skills
One thing you should know about the Hubby is that he's a freak of nature who's obsessed with organizing every single darn thing. One thing you should know about me is that I'm anything but, yet if I lost or misplaced something, I'd get so frustrated that I end up frustrating everybody around.
We're such a great couple, aren't we?
So last Saturday, when I couldn't find my documents we needed for filing our tax return, disaster naturally ensued. We spent the latter part of the afternoon combing through my files and being frustrated at each other. Him at me, for my lack of organizational skills, and me at him, for adding to my already built-up frustration. Let's just say.... our night ended colder than the freezing weather outside our house. Definitely not the night of endless passion we were originally aiming for!
But there's no argument that a sleepy I'm-sill-mad-but-I-sleep-better-next-to-your-warm-body hug in the middle of the night, a light of a new day or a mutual love for Home and Garden Exhibits can't mend. The following morning, we found ourselves in our usual cuddle position, and cheerfully getting ready for the show. All was forgiven. I was definitely in a better mood, as I even laughed in good humor when he snickered oh-so-loudly at a keychain we saw at the exhibit that has my name and its meaning.
Claudine: a well-organized, proper, and elegant woman.
We're such a great couple, aren't we?
So last Saturday, when I couldn't find my documents we needed for filing our tax return, disaster naturally ensued. We spent the latter part of the afternoon combing through my files and being frustrated at each other. Him at me, for my lack of organizational skills, and me at him, for adding to my already built-up frustration. Let's just say.... our night ended colder than the freezing weather outside our house. Definitely not the night of endless passion we were originally aiming for!
But there's no argument that a sleepy I'm-sill-mad-but-I-sleep-better-next-to-your-warm-body hug in the middle of the night, a light of a new day or a mutual love for Home and Garden Exhibits can't mend. The following morning, we found ourselves in our usual cuddle position, and cheerfully getting ready for the show. All was forgiven. I was definitely in a better mood, as I even laughed in good humor when he snickered oh-so-loudly at a keychain we saw at the exhibit that has my name and its meaning.
Claudine: a well-organized, proper, and elegant woman.
Friday, January 22, 2010
I am a Woman, Hear Me Roar
You just gotta love these bumper stickers!!!
Well-behaved women rarely make history.
How can I miss you if you won't go away?
Princess, having sufficient time with prince, seeks frog.
Coffee, chocolate, men. Some things are better rich.
If you want breakfast in bed, sleep in the kitchen.
Dinner is ready when the smoke alarm goes off.
Next mood swings: 6 minutes.
Warning: I have an ATTITUDE and I know how to use it.
Of course, I don't look busy. I did it right the first time!
You have the right to remain silent, so please shut up.
Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't drive a fast car, be a good boss or smoke a cigar. Being strong doesn't mean I'm not feminine and it certainly doesn't make me a bitch.
source: http://www.jokefrog.com/joke/0001.shtml
Well-behaved women rarely make history.
How can I miss you if you won't go away?
Princess, having sufficient time with prince, seeks frog.
Coffee, chocolate, men. Some things are better rich.
If you want breakfast in bed, sleep in the kitchen.
Dinner is ready when the smoke alarm goes off.
Next mood swings: 6 minutes.
Warning: I have an ATTITUDE and I know how to use it.
Of course, I don't look busy. I did it right the first time!
You have the right to remain silent, so please shut up.
Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't drive a fast car, be a good boss or smoke a cigar. Being strong doesn't mean I'm not feminine and it certainly doesn't make me a bitch.
source: http://www.jokefrog.com/joke/0001.shtml
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Language Lesson
Last week, The Hubby decided to impress me with his 'growing expertise' of my first language , as well as show his romantic side, and sent me a text message...
Pag-ibig sa yo. Ikaw ang aking lahat bagay bagay.
For the first few seconds, I was like, 'Huh?! What?... Love to you? You are my all things things.?' It doesn't make any sense. So obviously googled!
But then, being the smart woman that I can be on occasions that my brain works properly, I figured out what he was trying to say. So I sent him back a message, together with the correct Filipino words.
D- for the grammar, but A+ for the effort.... Iniibig kita (I love you). Ikaw ang lahat sa akin. (You are my everything).
And being the smart-ass that he can be sometimes, he replied with the only sentence he knew that I definitely couldn't dispute the grammar of, one which another smart-ass guy friend of mine decided to teach him while we were all on vacation at Hocking Hills.
Fine, how about this?... Bwisit ka. (You're annoying).
I learned never to criticize the man again. Especially when he only had the best intentions.
Pag-ibig sa yo. Ikaw ang aking lahat bagay bagay.
For the first few seconds, I was like, 'Huh?! What?... Love to you? You are my all things things.?' It doesn't make any sense. So obviously googled!
But then, being the smart woman that I can be on occasions that my brain works properly, I figured out what he was trying to say. So I sent him back a message, together with the correct Filipino words.
D- for the grammar, but A+ for the effort.... Iniibig kita (I love you). Ikaw ang lahat sa akin. (You are my everything).
And being the smart-ass that he can be sometimes, he replied with the only sentence he knew that I definitely couldn't dispute the grammar of, one which another smart-ass guy friend of mine decided to teach him while we were all on vacation at Hocking Hills.
Fine, how about this?... Bwisit ka. (You're annoying).
I learned never to criticize the man again. Especially when he only had the best intentions.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Back to Drama Land
I know that I have promised to stop being a drama queen and just delight you with fabulous tales of my extraordinary life, but, guess what?... I lied.
Although I'm happy most of the time, and grateful for having a husband who lets me believe I'm almost always right, an awesome mother who does all my share of domestic chores while enjoying a 'vacation' at my house, a ridiculously cute puppy who stole my heart despite his non-stop chewing and peeing, once a month (or maybe a week a month), my female hormones bite me in the ass and takes me back to Drama Land.
Yesterday, after I came home from work, I hugged my puppy and kissed my husband (in that order), then went upstairs to change my clothes. A few minutes later, I went back downstairs and played with Apollo. Out of the blue, I felt choked up by emotions, and tears started to well up my eyes. But before my husband give me a here-she-goes-again-what-the-heck-have-I-married-into look, I run to the showers and cried my heart out. For some unfathomable reasons, I suddenly felt pathetic giving so much affection to a puppy, when all I really wanted was to spoil a human baby. A baby of my own. A baby that's my flesh and blood.
But no worries. I feel better now that common sense has prevailed and had been comforted by the always reliable Haagen-Dazs. Afterall, if natural means don't work, we'll start our treatment sometime in March. So there's hope. I'm sure of it. In the meantime,there's no law that says I can't enjoy practicing and perfecting the art of making babies. So I intend to enjoy every minute of it. ;-)
Although I'm happy most of the time, and grateful for having a husband who lets me believe I'm almost always right, an awesome mother who does all my share of domestic chores while enjoying a 'vacation' at my house, a ridiculously cute puppy who stole my heart despite his non-stop chewing and peeing, once a month (or maybe a week a month), my female hormones bite me in the ass and takes me back to Drama Land.
Yesterday, after I came home from work, I hugged my puppy and kissed my husband (in that order), then went upstairs to change my clothes. A few minutes later, I went back downstairs and played with Apollo. Out of the blue, I felt choked up by emotions, and tears started to well up my eyes. But before my husband give me a here-she-goes-again-what-the-heck-have-I-married-into look, I run to the showers and cried my heart out. For some unfathomable reasons, I suddenly felt pathetic giving so much affection to a puppy, when all I really wanted was to spoil a human baby. A baby of my own. A baby that's my flesh and blood.
But no worries. I feel better now that common sense has prevailed and had been comforted by the always reliable Haagen-Dazs. Afterall, if natural means don't work, we'll start our treatment sometime in March. So there's hope. I'm sure of it. In the meantime,there's no law that says I can't enjoy practicing and perfecting the art of making babies. So I intend to enjoy every minute of it. ;-)
Sunday, January 17, 2010
My Bachelorette Days Are So Over
After these past few days, I came to huge realization.
My bachelorette days are finally over.
You'd probably think... 'Duh, she should have realized that 10 months ago when she got married!' And you'd be right. I should have. But basically, I just pretended that I have a lifetime boyfriend or roommate with benefits, so it wasn't such a big deal . Sure, things are a bit different, but my husband is such an awesome guy (I gotta say that in case he reads this blog... which he does from time to time) that he spoils me and lets me do pretty much whatever I want.
But now? Now that I got a puppy? Things are certainly different. Nobody told me it would be this hard! Well, okay... some people did tell me, but I can be the thanks-for-the-advice-but-I-know-what-I'm-doing type of girl, so naturally, I didn't listen. Now, my husband and I have to take turns getting up at 2am and then at 6am, just to let him go potty! Yes, have to, like, have to pay taxes, or have to breathe air! And worser than worst, I can't leave the house for more than four hours, because according to the all-knowing pet experts, it's plain cruelty.
Oh, freedom, my beloved freedom, how I miss you so!
But then again, just as I know it would be, everything's all worth it. Especially when you come home and he starts wagging his tail excitedly. Or when the litle rascal starts responding to the word 'No', or seeing him learn how to climb the stairs by himself.
Who needs 8 hours of sleep anyway? I say, sleep is overrated. Besides, according to my Mom, this is actually a good practice for taking care of her grandchild in the future. Little did she know, she'd be doing a lot of the taking care when it happens.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
A New Addition
Yesterday, the Husband and I welcomed a new addition to our family.
Weighing in at 10 pounds with black fur and dark eyes... is our baby... our baby dog, Apollo! He's a beautiful 8 week old Elkhound/Shepher mix. And like every other proud mommies (except maybe Casey Anthony), I also thought he's the cutest baby in the world. He had me at hello. He looked so sweet and angelic, it was too hard not to fall in love.
Actually, Hubs and I were originally thinking of going to a breeder, since we're very keen on getting a puppy (not a full grown dog). But since we can be softhearted when the mood strikes and advocates of human and animal rights on good days, we decided to check out the shelter first. And what do you know? Staring right at us with those soulful eyes, begging to be picked up and cuddled, was our beautiful puppy. Right then and there, I felt that familiar tug in my heartstring when I met my husband and I saw my wedding dress, he's 'The One.' I just gotta have him.
But... just as I should have learned from my experience with The Hubby and men in general, looks can be deceiving (especially good looks) and first impression isn't always necessarily true. Right after I took him home, and he realized I was already hooked, the little angel turned into a spawn of the devil. He started chewing everything on sight -including my leg, and pooping and peeing all over our brand new carpet. I spent the rest of my afternoon cleaning and chasing after him that I was almost tempted to take him back.
Fortunately for him, I did learn something from my relationships with male. Patience, Chloe, lots of patience. Eventually, he'd learn who's the boss.
Weighing in at 10 pounds with black fur and dark eyes... is our baby... our baby dog, Apollo! He's a beautiful 8 week old Elkhound/Shepher mix. And like every other proud mommies (except maybe Casey Anthony), I also thought he's the cutest baby in the world. He had me at hello. He looked so sweet and angelic, it was too hard not to fall in love.
Actually, Hubs and I were originally thinking of going to a breeder, since we're very keen on getting a puppy (not a full grown dog). But since we can be softhearted when the mood strikes and advocates of human and animal rights on good days, we decided to check out the shelter first. And what do you know? Staring right at us with those soulful eyes, begging to be picked up and cuddled, was our beautiful puppy. Right then and there, I felt that familiar tug in my heartstring when I met my husband and I saw my wedding dress, he's 'The One.' I just gotta have him.
But... just as I should have learned from my experience with The Hubby and men in general, looks can be deceiving (especially good looks) and first impression isn't always necessarily true. Right after I took him home, and he realized I was already hooked, the little angel turned into a spawn of the devil. He started chewing everything on sight -including my leg, and pooping and peeing all over our brand new carpet. I spent the rest of my afternoon cleaning and chasing after him that I was almost tempted to take him back.
Fortunately for him, I did learn something from my relationships with male. Patience, Chloe, lots of patience. Eventually, he'd learn who's the boss.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Sleepless Night
I had four hours of sleep last night.
I wish I could say that it's all due to some wild, crazy nocturnal extracurricular activities, but unfortunately, it's not. My body just simply refused to relax and get that much needed beauty rest.
At 11pm, I was ready. I turned off the lights after watching some television junk that's proven to acceralate the death of my already aging brain cells, and closed my eyes. Thirty minutes passed. My eyes were still closed, but my mind was off wondering... am I really ready to get a puppy... how am I gonna train him... this is exciting, but it's also frightening... blah, blah, blah. Another 30 minutes passed. Now, my mind had gone off wondering what's the big deal about the Sara Palin's or Paris Hilton's of this world... is there really heaven... why does it snow so much in Cleveland.
I realized I was thinking too much, so I tried to relax. I did the tried and tested counting sheep method, but I have counted hundreds of sheeps, and sleep still eluded me. I read a science paper that was guaranteed to make me fall asleep back in my college years, but still to no avail. I got up and drank milk like my mother used to tell me, and still no luck. I was so tempted to wake The Hubby up for a quick work-out that has, in the past had me sleeping like a baby right after (especially when it's out-of-this-world good) , but I know better than to wake an exhausted man up at 1 o'clock in the morning. Even with the promise of sex.
So in the end, I resorted to the one thing I always had an aversion to. Sleeping pill.
Unfortunately for my co-workers, I got up as the crankiest woman on planet Earth.
I wish I could say that it's all due to some wild, crazy nocturnal extracurricular activities, but unfortunately, it's not. My body just simply refused to relax and get that much needed beauty rest.
At 11pm, I was ready. I turned off the lights after watching some television junk that's proven to acceralate the death of my already aging brain cells, and closed my eyes. Thirty minutes passed. My eyes were still closed, but my mind was off wondering... am I really ready to get a puppy... how am I gonna train him... this is exciting, but it's also frightening... blah, blah, blah. Another 30 minutes passed. Now, my mind had gone off wondering what's the big deal about the Sara Palin's or Paris Hilton's of this world... is there really heaven... why does it snow so much in Cleveland.
I realized I was thinking too much, so I tried to relax. I did the tried and tested counting sheep method, but I have counted hundreds of sheeps, and sleep still eluded me. I read a science paper that was guaranteed to make me fall asleep back in my college years, but still to no avail. I got up and drank milk like my mother used to tell me, and still no luck. I was so tempted to wake The Hubby up for a quick work-out that has, in the past had me sleeping like a baby right after (especially when it's out-of-this-world good) , but I know better than to wake an exhausted man up at 1 o'clock in the morning. Even with the promise of sex.
So in the end, I resorted to the one thing I always had an aversion to. Sleeping pill.
Unfortunately for my co-workers, I got up as the crankiest woman on planet Earth.
Monday, January 11, 2010
They're All Gay
Apparently, all the gorgeous men I lust after are gay.
Just ask my husband.
Hugh Jackman? That hot, gorgeous man with a body to die for?... He's gay!
Jason Statham? That manly man with am amazing six-pack and an oh-so-lovable accent?... He's gay!
Bradley Cooper? That guy whose looks make me quiver, and is so ravishingly delicious in a black outfit?... He's gay!
If only I can say the same thing about Megan Fox or Jessica Biel.
Unfortunately, the thought of that only turns him on more.
(PS. In case you start wondering, and before their lawyers start knocking at my door suing me for defamation... no, those men are not gay... not at all! It's just my husband's way of trying to disillusion me!)
Just ask my husband.
Hugh Jackman? That hot, gorgeous man with a body to die for?... He's gay!
Jason Statham? That manly man with am amazing six-pack and an oh-so-lovable accent?... He's gay!
Bradley Cooper? That guy whose looks make me quiver, and is so ravishingly delicious in a black outfit?... He's gay!
If only I can say the same thing about Megan Fox or Jessica Biel.
Unfortunately, the thought of that only turns him on more.
(PS. In case you start wondering, and before their lawyers start knocking at my door suing me for defamation... no, those men are not gay... not at all! It's just my husband's way of trying to disillusion me!)
Friday, January 8, 2010
officially working
Cleveland is being hammered with snow. Again. Eight inches of freaking snow.
I swear, if it's not for the Cavaliers (oh... and my husband and my job!), I would have left this cursed city long ago. Four months of continuous snowfall every year? Too long for a tropical gal like me.
But anyhoo... since I am special and my boss loves me enough to let me do anything, I got to work at home today. Never mind that I'm a chemist who needs to work in a lab, I still told people I'm working at home because of the crappy weather. In my defense, I am. I really am! I just finished a reliability report and answered a bunch of job-related emails. I even dragged my lazy butt out of the bed at 7:00 in the morning. Sure, I did log on my facebook and blogger accounts at some point (like right now), but hey, I do that at the office, too! So nothing's really different.
Well... except maybe for a few things. Like writing my report while lying in a jacuzzi tub listening to Michael Buble's latest album. Or watching my vain husband (who got jealous of me and decided to take the day off as well) model some of his new clothes while I was on my short break.
And yeah, I had some wine at lunch. I know, I know. Drinking on the job. Shame on me.
I swear, if it's not for the Cavaliers (oh... and my husband and my job!), I would have left this cursed city long ago. Four months of continuous snowfall every year? Too long for a tropical gal like me.
But anyhoo... since I am special and my boss loves me enough to let me do anything, I got to work at home today. Never mind that I'm a chemist who needs to work in a lab, I still told people I'm working at home because of the crappy weather. In my defense, I am. I really am! I just finished a reliability report and answered a bunch of job-related emails. I even dragged my lazy butt out of the bed at 7:00 in the morning. Sure, I did log on my facebook and blogger accounts at some point (like right now), but hey, I do that at the office, too! So nothing's really different.
Well... except maybe for a few things. Like writing my report while lying in a jacuzzi tub listening to Michael Buble's latest album. Or watching my vain husband (who got jealous of me and decided to take the day off as well) model some of his new clothes while I was on my short break.
And yeah, I had some wine at lunch. I know, I know. Drinking on the job. Shame on me.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
I'm Getting Old
It's official. I'm getting old.
Either my brain had became fully saturated with chemistry information that it's starting to have a hard time keeping old info and absorbing new ideas, or my brain cells are slowly dying of old age (I prefer the first explanation, but my husband teases me it's the latter), because I'm becoming so forgetful. Really forgetful. I've lost 20 dollars last week, it took me forever to find my car keys this morning, and I've set off our home security alarm three times in two months, because... well... I forgot to turn it off before I opened the door!
And, it's usually a woman's thing to remember details of her dates, but I swear my husband remembers more than I do. For new years eve celebration, I told him, "Honey, we should go to Bonefish Grill for dinner. They have really good food! You should try it. " To which he replied, "Babe, I know. I was there with you before, remember?"
I'm starting to be convinced that my Mother's right. If my body's detachable, I'd probably lose it too.
Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah, memory loss. I better start taking some Ginkgo.
Either my brain had became fully saturated with chemistry information that it's starting to have a hard time keeping old info and absorbing new ideas, or my brain cells are slowly dying of old age (I prefer the first explanation, but my husband teases me it's the latter), because I'm becoming so forgetful. Really forgetful. I've lost 20 dollars last week, it took me forever to find my car keys this morning, and I've set off our home security alarm three times in two months, because... well... I forgot to turn it off before I opened the door!
And, it's usually a woman's thing to remember details of her dates, but I swear my husband remembers more than I do. For new years eve celebration, I told him, "Honey, we should go to Bonefish Grill for dinner. They have really good food! You should try it. " To which he replied, "Babe, I know. I was there with you before, remember?"
I'm starting to be convinced that my Mother's right. If my body's detachable, I'd probably lose it too.
Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah, memory loss. I better start taking some Ginkgo.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Conversation
Hubby: Babe, are you happy with me?
Me: Of course I am. Why do you ask?
Hubby: You seem to be eating a lot lately.
Me (defensively): No, I'm n0t!
Hubby: You just ate a whole apple pie. Are you stressed out or something? I hope you're not stressed out because of me.
Me: No, you don't stress me out.... Aaww... Honey, are you worried about me? (heart melting...)
Him: Yeah, babe. I don't want you to get fat!
Me: Of course I am. Why do you ask?
Hubby: You seem to be eating a lot lately.
Me (defensively): No, I'm n0t!
Hubby: You just ate a whole apple pie. Are you stressed out or something? I hope you're not stressed out because of me.
Me: No, you don't stress me out.... Aaww... Honey, are you worried about me? (heart melting...)
Him: Yeah, babe. I don't want you to get fat!
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Gift Cards
Hubs and I used all the gift cards we received for christmas and went on some serious shopping spree last weekend.
Let me just say, whoever came up with the idea of giftcards is the smartest man/woman who ever existed. I swear, its pure brilliance! I don't have to move my lips in something that resembles a smile anymore, just to show how grateful I am for a purplish floral wallet, or for a yellow sundress I wouldn't be caught dead wearing. With a giftcard, I can actually give a genuine, happy smile in anticipation of the lovely things I would buy with it.
Don't get me wrong. I know it's the thought that counts, and I'm grateful for the thought. Really. Honestly. But I still think it's a waste of money to buy a gift for someone that he/she won't even use. I believe that you should only buy gifts for people that fall under these three categories: people you know so well you can finish their sentences, people who belong to your own generation (and only if they also fall under the first category), and people who gave you their wish lists. If they don't, then give the loving gift of a giftcard. If you feel it's not personal enough, then seal it with a kiss. Trust me, it's a win-win situation. Less work for you, more happiness for them.
As I was saying, Hubs and I went to the mall and used our giftcards. After which, I called my mother-in-law and my aunts, and genuinely thank them for the pair of boots, two coats, a pretty blouse and a pair of jeans they 'bought' for me.
Let me just say, whoever came up with the idea of giftcards is the smartest man/woman who ever existed. I swear, its pure brilliance! I don't have to move my lips in something that resembles a smile anymore, just to show how grateful I am for a purplish floral wallet, or for a yellow sundress I wouldn't be caught dead wearing. With a giftcard, I can actually give a genuine, happy smile in anticipation of the lovely things I would buy with it.
Don't get me wrong. I know it's the thought that counts, and I'm grateful for the thought. Really. Honestly. But I still think it's a waste of money to buy a gift for someone that he/she won't even use. I believe that you should only buy gifts for people that fall under these three categories: people you know so well you can finish their sentences, people who belong to your own generation (and only if they also fall under the first category), and people who gave you their wish lists. If they don't, then give the loving gift of a giftcard. If you feel it's not personal enough, then seal it with a kiss. Trust me, it's a win-win situation. Less work for you, more happiness for them.
As I was saying, Hubs and I went to the mall and used our giftcards. After which, I called my mother-in-law and my aunts, and genuinely thank them for the pair of boots, two coats, a pretty blouse and a pair of jeans they 'bought' for me.
Monday, January 4, 2010
2009 Highlights
I was halfway through my list of New Years resolutions when I realized, 'Who the heck was I kidding?'. Chloie and resolutions don't go very well together. My success rate in keeping them is abolutely low . Zero success, as a matter of fact. I'd start full of enthusiasms, and then, a couple of months later wonder where the enthusiasms went. Sure, I can promise to be the best wife ever, be happy all the time and never nag, but... come on, is there a wife who doesn't? Especially one who's a slave to her emotions? And I can promise to exercise more, but we all know I can find excuses after excuses not to get off my lazy butt. But on my defense, I do latin and belly dances from time to time.
And so this year, I decided to make no resolutions.
Instead, I'll give you the highlights of my previous year.
- Got married. And on days when I'm very happy... smiled endlessly and considered myself very fortunate to have found 'The One'. But on days when Hubs was being a smart ass and won't accept that yourstruly is always right... wondered why I got hitched. Fortunately, those days are few and far between.
- Had an unofficial mini-honeymoon in Chicago. I wish I could say that we never left our room that weekend and had a marathon work-out like normal honeymooners (or at least in movies), unfortunately, I can't. For reason that is... well... not within my control. (I blame Mother Nature for having a poor sense of timing). Poor hubby! But I swear, I did more than make up for his disappointment a week after. ;-) And we still had a great time in that lovely city.
- Built a new house. On days when all bills are paid, and friends ooh-ed and aah-ed at what a nice house it is, smiled proudly, and was grateful to be a homeowner. But on days when bills start to pile up, wondered what the heck were we thinking buying a house this year.
- Went hiking and ziplining at Hocking Hills with friends. Great time! Enough said.
- Went to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina on a one-week vacation with the husband's family. Nice beach and wondeful time. Long drive, though. And a week life with too many people under one roof was a little bit too long for a part time-social person and part time- loner like me.
- Hosted Thanksgiving/ Housewarming party. Had loads of fun, but vowed that the next parties I'll host would be potluck ones.
- Welcomed the big 30 with a smile in my face. With age, comes more wisdom and maturity. So... hello, wisdom and maturity!
- Presented a talk at a conference in San Jose, California and pretended that I've joined the ranks of important people. Also met up with my childhood bestfriend there. For the first time after 18 years!
- Successfully completed two big projects at work. Woot woot! Now, I'm ready for my promotion.
Happy New Year, everyone!!!
And so this year, I decided to make no resolutions.
Instead, I'll give you the highlights of my previous year.
- Got married. And on days when I'm very happy... smiled endlessly and considered myself very fortunate to have found 'The One'. But on days when Hubs was being a smart ass and won't accept that yourstruly is always right... wondered why I got hitched. Fortunately, those days are few and far between.
- Had an unofficial mini-honeymoon in Chicago. I wish I could say that we never left our room that weekend and had a marathon work-out like normal honeymooners (or at least in movies), unfortunately, I can't. For reason that is... well... not within my control. (I blame Mother Nature for having a poor sense of timing). Poor hubby! But I swear, I did more than make up for his disappointment a week after. ;-) And we still had a great time in that lovely city.
- Built a new house. On days when all bills are paid, and friends ooh-ed and aah-ed at what a nice house it is, smiled proudly, and was grateful to be a homeowner. But on days when bills start to pile up, wondered what the heck were we thinking buying a house this year.
- Went hiking and ziplining at Hocking Hills with friends. Great time! Enough said.
- Went to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina on a one-week vacation with the husband's family. Nice beach and wondeful time. Long drive, though. And a week life with too many people under one roof was a little bit too long for a part time-social person and part time- loner like me.
- Hosted Thanksgiving/ Housewarming party. Had loads of fun, but vowed that the next parties I'll host would be potluck ones.
- Welcomed the big 30 with a smile in my face. With age, comes more wisdom and maturity. So... hello, wisdom and maturity!
- Presented a talk at a conference in San Jose, California and pretended that I've joined the ranks of important people. Also met up with my childhood bestfriend there. For the first time after 18 years!
- Successfully completed two big projects at work. Woot woot! Now, I'm ready for my promotion.
Happy New Year, everyone!!!
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