planes, trains, and automobiles (au-to-mo-beeeel)?

this past year has been my great travel-cation - park city, cabo, napa, philly, madison, milwaukee, new york...i know, i know,  you are so jealous of all my exotic travels (especially wisconsin). i'm sure at this point my employer is wondering exactly how much vacation time i actually have (not to worry, mr. employer. you have kept me plenty busy. i'm working very hard, promise.)

all this travel has been a mix of planes and trains and yes the [dreaded] roadtrip. so here's a breakdown of the experience and some do's and don'ts as you embark on your holiday travel.

planes. i usually love planes just because it's the fastest way of getting anywhere. but there are drawbacks. many of them.

1. checking bags. i hate it. my clothes just mean too much to me to have them lost or stranded god knows where for hours, days, forever.  so the idea of checking my bags just feels like clothing neglect and abuse. 
2. miniature, elf-size toiletries. not checking bags = toy size toiletries. cute as they may be, it feels a little like i'm rationing out beauty. for the most part, i'd say i've mastered it. lots of samples and little travel jars filled my luscious creams and dreamy beauty products. but given the rationing that these little bottles require,  i probably walk around with a little too much mascara under my eyes than is appropriate.  maybe that's why i look so tired??
3. chatty folks.  on a recent trip, i had a early morning flight, which meant i woke up at an obscene hour...too early to even mention. all i wanted was to board the plane, snuggle up, and take the closest thing i could to a nap.  then SHE boarded. the 19 y.o. american university student (yes YOU) who thought that the entire aircraft wanted to hear her life story for 2 hours. from the second she boarded until the second we landed and i finally ran off the plane, she talked...and talked...and talked. i'm not sure she took a breath. i (we, the plane) had the pleasure of hearing all about her major, her hometown, her boyfriend, her theories on psychological disorders,  her knowledge and understanding of technology, her high school life, and her political and religious thoughts. basically, i could write this girl's biography. maybe my lack of patience is just a sign that i'm an old lady who feels the urge to sssshushhhh everyone. maybe when i was 19, i thought i've lived enough life and needed to share my enlightened existence.
4. security lines. no, i'm not going to complain about the new tsa policies because, personally, i'd like to feel safe when i board a plane. i just wish that people knew how to navigate a security line. get your laptop out.  take off your belt. your shoes go on the conveyer belt. and no, contrary to what you may have thought, you are not exempt from the 3:1:1 liquid rule so you'll have to leave your 20 oz bottle of lotion at home. seriously, how do you not know the rules?

trains. i've traveled by train a handful of times. mainly through europe (god, i sound so worldly, don't i?) but my last 2 trips to nyc have been by train. there are definitely pros to trains - no security lines, no elf-size toiletries required, and best of all THE QUIET CAR (not that i've ever been in the quiet car because it just sounds like it would be too much pressure to be quiet, but god bless them for having the idea).  i think for the most part, trains are a close second to planes and may actually take the lead of preferred means of travel (for short distances). but there are a couple drawbacks...

1.  the return trip. i don't know about you but i like to have an assigned gate, go sit down, and board my train in a nice, civilized, orderly fashion. i guess nyc hates this idea. it wants people to line up and stare at the big board, wait anxiously for the announcer, and remain in ready position until seconds before boarding begins to race/climb/push others to get to the train.
2. seat assignments. i like the idea that you can sit anywhere but i guess the danny tanner in me just wishes we had assigned seats. maybe that would make boarding more orderly and less of musical chairs affair. 

automobiles. au-to-mo-beeel? god, i loved 16 candles....and any opportunity to use that line from the movie. too bad i hate road trips. the idea of being in a car for more than 2 hours is excruciating. maybe it's the fact that my commute in rush hour can take up to an hour or more but being trapped in my car is not my idea of a good time. it's cramped. you have to go to some gross rest stop to use the bathroom, and if you are not the one driving, then you have to keep the driver awake with fun, amazing stories. i mean, who am i? some 19 y.o. american university student? 

so as you embark on your holiday travels, regardless of your means of transportation, remember a few rules of the skies/tracks/roads:

1. pack light and leave your adult size toiletries at home. otherwise, i'll probably be behind you in the security line rolling my eyes. and maybe this time, i'll actually work up the nerve to say something to your face. beware.
2. pack your headphones. chances are that some college kid is going to want to talk about how awesome their last frat party was so you better be prepared to ignore them.
3. wear comfortable shoes. remember, you'll need to place them on the conveyer belt in security and people are not going to want to wait for you to unbuckle, untie, unzip them. so be smart about it.  again, i might be in line behind you and there will be a serious absence of holiday cheer if you lack efficiency. also, you will need to be able to run to your gate at a moment's notice. practice sprinting with your suitcase.

happy travels :)

politics 101 according to me

(note: i debated even posting this today because i don't want to spark a debate of some sort. not interested. but then i realized, my readers don't debate. they don't comment. they are happy, silent readers. and by "readers", i mean those 2 random people that occasionally read this blog. thanks for not debating...ok, read on)

happy election day [cue the national anthem].

ok, now i should go on the record and say that i am so excited that this election nonsense will be over today. seriously, the last few weeks has been a nonstop bombardment of political ads -- e.g.,  connolly vs. fimian, o'malley vs. ehrlich, some random lady from the tea party with the horrible political ad (i will just say that the local tv station had to display a warning prior to broadcasting the ad each time. so yes, it was that horrible and offensive and inappropriate).

and no, it's not like these political ads mean much. i can barely remember who's running. so you think i even know where you stand on issues? nope. case in point, the other morning, i was complaining about the ads to my husband and said, "that george connolly looks like a weasel, i don't trust him." too bad, his name is not george connolly.
it's...

ummmm....


......jerry?

so even though these ads are on every 5 minutes, my brain has chosen to block them out. and in any case, all these ads that have basically hijacked my tv are not even relevant as none of those guys are in my district. can you believe that!? i've been tortured all these weeks for no good reason. i learned all this when i finally looked it up this morning. that's right, i didn't know what district i was in, let alone who is up for election. yes, i know, i know. i'm an irresponsible american, i'm taking my voting rights for granted. tsk tsk. but honestly, is it just me or have things gotten out of control a little bit? so forgive me for not taking it seriously.

now i know that clinton went on arsenio when he was campaigning and that was seen as very unconventional and cool. but in this past election, with all the talk of change and hope and awesomeness, well wasn't that just my generation's way of picking the cooler candidate? (aka, high school politics 101). that said, it was exciting to have a candidate that resonated with a younger generation and sparked interest and involvement. but seriously? i don't even want to get into how much of a popularity contest that was.

and where are we now?  and no, i don't mean a where are we now in terms of the state of our nation. i'll leave that to the likes of brian williams to talk about.  i mean, where are we now, as in, what is the current crazy level of our country?

let's see....we have a "tea party"? politically, i'm not even sure what they are. i'm guessing it's sarah palin's crazy train with a proposed trip through coo-koo town. like i said, i don't know anything about politics, but i know crazy.

restore sanity rally? full disclosure, i admire jon stewart. i think he's funny and interesting (read: handsome). stephen colbert, i cannot stand....cannot......stand. so the idea of packing in like sardines on the national mall to hear colbert be unfunny did not appeal to me. and i'd love to know of all the people who went to the rally, how many actually voted today? did we "restore sanity"? and while i'm ranting, can i just ask jon stewart if he could refrain from calling the president of our country "dude"? i wouldn't even call my boss "dude" (partly because, she's a she) so let alone the "boss of our country".

and our honorable president going on ryan seacrest? a sit down with barbara walters, i get that. an interview with oprah, ok. but ryan seacrest? don't get me wrong, i love e! news and my famous people updates, but i don't really want to see our president talking to ryan seacrest. seacrest should stick to what he knows, what he's good at - celeb rehab news, idol wannabes, and the kardashians.

i guess what i'm trying to say is, that while i love my dose of celeb gossip and people.com daily reading, maybe, just maybe, if you want me to take my voting rights and the entire election process seriously, that we don't make up random political parties, hold fake inspirational rallies, and put our president on entertainment radio (you already won, you don't need to "connect" with my dumb-dumb generation, just make sure i don't lose my 401k before i retire. yes, focus on that, please.).

and that marks my first (and last) political commentary. happy voting. go america!

"i'd like to see paris before i die. philadelphia will do." - mae west

I'd like to see Paris before I die. Philadelphia will do.  - Mae West

My last post was all about my one-year wedding anniversary celebration in Napa. Well, when my husband and I began talking about the trip (the planning started shortly after we were married and returned from our honeymoon), we decided that the trip itself would be our “gift.” And honestly, I was okay with that. True, that I can list about 20 things I’d love to receive as a gift at any given moment (It’s really amazing how my brain can think of that in an instant yet can’t recall where I put my keys this morning. But if you need to know anything about new items on the Tory Burch website, I’m your girl.)

So about a month before the trip, I was working from home and before leaving for work that day, my husband turns to me and says, “Don’t pick up any of the packages from the mail today.” Hmmmm, interesting. Clearly, that means there is a gift coming in the mail for me! Hooray!! But I acted cool and said, “Oh, what? Sure sure, sounds good.” Meanwhile, I started going through all the things I could have possibly mentioned in the past couple months. What in the world was I going to get?!?!?!

And then it hit me. “Wait a minute,” I thought, “if HE’S getting ME a gift, I’m not going to look like a chump and not give a gift on our ONE YEAR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY. “ Maybe after a couple years, it won’t be as important (strike that, of course it will be) but not on this one.  Now, while I can list off all the wonderful things I want, I stress out about what to get others, especially my husband.  After a couple ideas, which were immediately shot down when I ran them by a few friends, I immediately figured it out – THE PERFECT GIFT! Tickets to a concert for the band whose song was played for our first dance at our wedding! Yes, it’s fun because it’s a concert, it’s sentimental which makes it perfect for anniversary purposes, and it’s in Philadelphia….wait, it’s in Philadelphia. Now I LOVE traveling. LOVE IT. But this past year has involved some intense travel and the concert itself was going to be the weekend after we returned from a wedding in NYC.  But since, I hadn’t worked a full work week in a few weeks, why buck the trend now? So I booked it and surprised him with the gift when we were in NAPA.

Ok, ok, long backstory. But now to the Philly part of this blog!

We decided to drive up and road trip it. For the record, I hate being in the car more than 3-4 hours at a time, so this was the ideal roadtrip (sorry, honey, we are NEVER going to drive cross country). We stayed at the Sofitel in Rittenhouse Square. If you’ve never stayed at a Sofitel, book your trip now. It doesn’t even matter where it is. Just do it. I mainly love it because the beds are like clouds. Soft, fluffy, king-sized clouds (sigh….I miss the bed).

Anyway, we get to the hotel and I immediately take a nap in the cloud bed. I wake up refreshed and start to get ready for the concert. There’s a knock on the door and it’s room service. The hotel has sent us champagne and strawberries in honor of our anniversary.  

Quelle magnifique!

our well dressed strawberries

So we down the champagne and head to dinner at Parc where we gorge ourselves on yummy delicious food. The restaurant sends us a dessert with sparklers. I love being celebrated!

Next up, the concert! We arrive at the venue and no one is there. Well there are a few people there but not many. I think this was due in part to the opening bands, which were good but, good in a “this is my dad’s band, he likes to play Grateful Dead type music with his buddies in his spare time” kind of way. Ok, they were better than that and actually my dad doesn’t play in a band but you get the idea. So then Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers hit the stage. The concert was amazing, especially because I was practically sitting on the stage. Here a few of my awesome photos (I know, you are in awe of my photography skills and think the band should hire me)…

the stage before the sk6er magic

stephen kellogg himself

cue the tuba!

After the concert we decide to walk home…which seemed like it was a good idea because everything was so close to our hotel. Things look a lot closer on google maps. Very tricky. And then we decide we want to order pizza from room service. We were full of great ideas that night!

Day two we decide to walk around Philly and soak in the rich history of the city. Well,  I just wanted to pose next to the statues.

posing perfection

We went on a carriage ride tour, at which point, I decided that I want to live in Society Hill…mainly because it’s called Society Hill.   After our intense history lesson (again, it was a lesson for me because I don’t remember anything I learned in high school), it was time for the main attraction – the ANTHROPOLOGIE CASTLE. For those of you who don’t know, the Anthropologie in Philly is four levels. FOUR. My husband didn’t last long in the store but, conveniently the store castle was a block from our hotel. Gosh, I wonder how that happened. So after giving the castle all my money (in exchange for all their clothes) I finally headed back to prepare for our big time dinner at LaCroix (Big Time – said in Paul Rudd’s voice from “I Love You, Man”).   Sadly, this meant that my husband would miss the second half of the Wisconsin/Ohio State game. Lucky for us, we sat next to a table at LaCroix who was also interested in the game and gave us updates throughout the night. Soooooo lucky!

The best part of the night –  (if you ask my husband, it would be the huge win for Wisconsin over #1 Ohio State) was when the restaurant sent us TWO desserts for our anniversary (note, we’d also ordered two on our own, so we now had 4 desserts). God, I love anniversaries.

And with that, Happy One-Year Anniversary (again).

1 whole year! we made it.

In honor of our one-year wedding anniversary, my husband and I planned a trip to Napa. 

where the magic begins

We flew out early Thursday morning…really early. As in I woke up at 4am. Gross.

Our first stop was Atlanta. It’s a quick flight that makes you believe that this whole trip is going to be quick. But it’s a lie. Because once you’re in Atlanta, you realize you still have to fly 4 more hours to actually get to your destination. Atlanta was just a 2-hour side trip to a place you never wanted to go to anyway.  My husband being self-sacrificing, let’s me have the window seat and graciously takes the middle seat, next to a bowling ball. Meanwhile, I sleep comfortably. Well as comfortably as you can sleep on the plane.  How comfortable is waking up every 15 minutes, really?

We land in San Francisco, pick up our rental and drive out to Napa Valley. We arrive at our hotel, AVIA, a modern hotel within walking distance to restaurants and shops.  Being the classic Danny Tanner, I ask that we plan out our days.

The first day, we head to a group wine tour. The limo picks us up and we meet the other couples. It was like wine prom! We were fortunate enough to have a great group of young couples…and the quiet Asian woman with her dad.  It was interesting. I’m sure she appreciated that I pointed out how my underdog college beat her college football team last week.  Ah, making friends wherever I go.

The funny thing about wine tours is that you start off very proper and appropriate and then you find yourself asking about the wine gloves the tour guide referred to (for the record, he said, “wine club” but you could have sworn he said “wine gloves” and now you want to know what those are and where you can find them!)

delicious delicious wine

The next day was our designated driver tour. Basically, a driver comes to your hotel and drives you to vineyards in your rental car. It’s awesome. We drove to smaller boutique vineyards that essentially treated you like VIP.  This is the life! Again, you start off the day demure and sweet and by the end; you’re asking the vineyard owner if you could have a diet coke from their private fridge. By the way, they say yes, you’re VIP afterall (or they just hope that you’ll take the diet coke and be on your way).

By day three, drinking wine was a chore. “Yeah, your cabernet sauvignon is great. But, I’ve had better. Or at least I think I have.  Seriously, do you have a diet coke?“

The night of our actual anniversary, we had reservations at Micheal Chirello’s Bottegga. 

little did we know what awaited us

We saved ourselves all day so when we arrived we forewarned our server. “We are going to order an obscene amount of food.” She giggles. Silly.  No, seriously, it was obscene (I’ve numbered the list to illustrate the insanity):

1.  We order the calamari. The calamari is served with a squid ink aioli. Forget that I hate mayo, this is incredible.
2. But what’s dinner at an Italian restaurant w/o caprese salad? The caprese salad is served with balsamic caviar.  I know, what is that, right? Well it’s balsamic vinegar that they add a tiny bit of gelatin to and then drop out into tiny little gems. Delicious.
3. Then our next order arrives – polenta in jar that’s served with crispy mushrooms and parm.  It was basically as though mashed potatoes had a love affair with macaroni and cheese and bred this creamy delicious goodness.
4.  The next dish was the proscuittio with little parm donuts that you dip into a chilled melon soup. This I didn’t eat but my husband did. (At this point the couple next to us is looking at us in horror. They’re thinking “how are these Americans eating so much food? They are disgusting.” We look at them, recognize their horror and just tell them, we’re still waiting on our entrée.  But truthfully, at this point, we ourselves are disgusted too. It’s like we were living our own episode of Man vs. [Gourmet] Food. It was torture.)
5. So our entrees arrive (I ordered the angry prawns and I can’t even remember what my husband ordered. I think it was lamb or pork. At this point my vision was blurred and my memory was waning). We are doing everything we can to not get sick at the actual table.  I look at my husband to see his eyes are tearing and he actually might vomit…at the table. But I can tell he’s fighting hard. We play with our food and take a few bites. TORTURE. And the server takes away our plates.
6.  But wait! My husband had decided at the beginning of the meal to surprise me with dessert (chocolate hazelnut soufflé). He’s so sweet but we are really going to die at this table. Even the server recognizes the fear at the thought of more food. As she places the chocolate soufflé on our table, she looks at me and says “I’m really sorry.” We take a bite and then just pray for the check.

happy anniversary!

Moral of that story, just plan a follow-up trip  to Bottega and eat comfortably.

Our 5 days in Napa were incredible and delicious. The weather was lovely, the people were sweet and the wine was poetry (I read that on a sign). Next time, we should stay for a month!

you want me to jump out of what?!

September 12^th. 6 am – I wake up suddenly. I’m sweating. Not in a “there are too many covers” kind of way but a cold sweat. Like a “there’s fear living in my body” type of sweat. I think, “This is the day. This is actually happening.”

Flashback a few weeks…that’s when it all started. My husband and I were going whitewater rafting with a few friends. On the car ride there, our friend says that in honor of his 30^th birthday, he’s going to go skydiving. I instantly say that I’ve always wanted to do that and that I’d definitely go. It’s not even like I paused. That was the immediate reaction. It was as though my brain didn’t even have time to interject. Maybe I just thought that it wasn’t something that was going to happen. Maybe it was because I already thought I was so extreme that skydiving was a natural next move. For the record, I’m not extreme. Not at all. I mean, the whitewater rafting that day consisted of us floating down the Potomac alongside people tubing down the river…with coolers floating next to them…and there I was with my paddle and helmet. Completely extreme.

Ok, so then a week or two pass by and we are at the beach with friends, when our same friend says, “I’m calling the skydiving place tomorrow. I’m going to book it.” Great. I can’t wait to jump out of a plane.

From that moment on, it was ritualistic review of the skydiving company’s website – What does it feel like to jump out of a plane? How far up to go?! What happens if you wet yourself? Wait a minute. What am I doing??  (They didn’t have an answer to that last question. They did, however, have an answer to “Can I bring my pet?” Why would you bring your pet? But then again, why would you jump out of a plane?)

So 6am the morning of, my body must have realized what was happening. I wonder if my brain was finally like, “Hey, body, you know you’re going to throw yourself out of plane today, right? Yeah, this was a choice. Free will. Idiot.”

My friends came by around 9 am and we were on our way. The weather was rainy and gross. “No way are they going to let us jump today, “I thought. I read the website 20 times, remember. We called the company when we were about 20 miles away and they said none of the morning groups had jumped but if wanted to come by anyway, we’d see if it would clear up. We figured we were 20 miles away so we might as well just go. We get to the site and there is a tiny pocket of sky visible. Hmmm, maybe this was divine intervention. Maybe God, was like, “I’d prefer you to live. I don’t have time to look after you today. I have more important things to tend to.” But for some reason, we proceeded to start ground training, just in case that the weather cleared up. The first step was to watch the “informational video” which was bizarre and what I’d expect of a cult video. It was an old guy with a long beard, wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk, welcoming us. Seriously? Step two was about 10 pages of us signing off next to all the people we weren’t allowed to sue should anything go wrong. How reassuring.  I think we also had to write down our address about 15 times. I guess if something were to happen, they figured they go collect our stuff. It’s not like we had any permission to sue them at that point.  So far, I thought, I hate this ground training. Ok, final step of ground training – prepare for the actual jump. That basically consisted of squatting and learning two positions – the safety position which was us clutching our backpack straps and the superman position where we extend our arms and bend at the elbows. Then we laid on the ground and pretended to be falling.  Hmm, this is easy. Then, we waited. And waited. The names went up for the groups. About 4 hours later, our names were up! We were going to do this. I  suited up (in my awesome purple and orange astronaut suit), put on my little leather shower cap and goggles and made my way to plane. You know what I was not expecting, taking off in the plane backwards. You basically board and straddle this bench with your back towards the cockpit and zoom…backwards. My instructor tells me that I seem really calm. Really? Maybe my body is shutting down and trying to repress this entire thing. But I just say, oh, yeah, I’m ready to jump. God, I’m so extreme. He says, “Great, we’ll be the second to jump”…wait, what?

So they open the door, the first group scoots off the bench and 3, 2, 1, jump. Oh my god, that was so quick but the next thing I know, we’re making our way to the door. The videographer/photog is hanging out of the plane documenting the entire thing. Yes, he was literally hanging out of the plane. The next minute or so went something like this:

Don’t look down, don’t look down.

Oh my god, we are looking down.

JUMP.

Aghhh, we are flipping. We didn’t practice for this. Close your eyes, close your eyes. Don’t watch this.

Wait, I just paid a lot for this experience. Open your eyes. Open your eyes!

Oh god, there’s too much oxygen. I’m going to throw up.

No, don’t throw up. Look at the camera. Look at the camera.

Smile. Smile.

Why is the videographer making that signal? Am I supposed to pull the chute?  No, it’s too soon. No wait, is it time?

CHUTE PULL…BY THE INSTRUCTOR.

“I’m so sorry I forgot to pull the chute” – me to the instructor.

FLOATING.

“Welcome to my office” – the instructor to me.

FLY THROUGH A CLOUD.

FLOATING.

ANNDDDDDDDD…. LANDING.

seriously, that's me!

i did this willingly.

The entire fall lasted about 5 minutes, the first minute of which was perhaps the scariest thing I’ve ever done. But it was incredible and I’d do it again. Maybe. 

parting is such sweet sorrow

(first off  - yes, i'm still alive, i just haven't blogged in months because i'm lazy. but not because i haven't wanted to. in fact, i'm always thinking, "oh i should write that on my blog" but then i get home and sitting on my couch watching a "real housewives of new jersey" rerun just seems more appealing then typing on a computer. l-a-z-y. so my apologies...again. and it won't be the last i'm sure. ok, now to the blog.....)

so yesterday was a tragic day.

i cleaned out my closet! well, WE (my husband and i) cleaned out the closet. there, i gave him credit.

i've been dreading cleaning out the closet for months (MONTHS) but yesterday was it. didn't i just move in with my husband less than a year ago, you ask? yes, yes i did. and i purged a lot of stuff before moving in but my shameful shopping addiction had left us in quite the predicament.

after squeezing clothes into drawers and onto shelves, it was time. i mean, my clothes deserve some respect. the beautiful gems should not have to be mushed into just any old available space. they don't expect to mingle with clothes of the hideous past (i.e., my red zip up sweatshirt from 8th grade. god i was sad to let that go but ugly is ugly. or worse yet, my "dressy" gauchos. sometimes, i question my own taste. but only sometimes).

aside from hating manual labor, i think it was emotionally painful. my clothes are my little kiddies. so yes, basically, i was discarding my children yesterday (mommyhood, here i come!) and giving away even the ugly clothes was sad. but there are some things that you just don't want to get rid of...

• the fat jeans - the jeans that you wear when you put on about 5-10 lbs. also known as "i'll wear these when i'm pregnant" jeans.
• the skinny jeans - not to be confused with the trendy new "skinny jeans" these jeans are how you measure your weight (i.e., "if i fit into these, i'm officially skinny." also known as the "i can't believe i ever fit in these" jeans).
• the stinky pants - the lounge pants i wore during and post college. the ones that have a hole that i sewed up. also known as the pants my mom claimed was the reason i was single in college. they're amazingly hideous and wonderfully comfortable. and for the record, i kept them. so there.
• the jcrew sweaters - also known as the "i paid too much to just give these away but i haven't worn them in over 3 years so they really need to go" sweaters. i have too many of them to mention and really, they're from jcrew. when are they going to go out of style. but let's face it, i'm not wearing them and they're taking up room for all the other jcrew sweaters i could be buying.
• the chanel blazer - ok, if this was really a chanel blazer you'd have to rip it out of my dead, cold hands. but it's really the "i swear, this looks like a chanel boucle blazer" blazer. it's also the one i tried on for my husband who responded with "throw it out. it's kind of ugly." i guess this means i just need to buy a REAL chanel blazer.

a couple things i realized during the entire process:

1. i really need to be more discerning when i go shopping. i'm happy to say i have become more so in the past 2 years but really, i'm not sure how some of that stuff even landed in my closet to begin with. embarrassing.
2. my husband always manages to rationalize keeping that one ugly hawaiian shirt. i swear we've cleaned out the closet twice in the past year and that thing always seems to survive.
3. i don't need 25 pairs of jeans. i really don't. i dont' know how i've justified keeping them for so long. now i'm down to 7. that just seems fair.
4. i didn't like the shirt my husband wore on our first date. i learned this when he asked "remember this?" holding up the shirt and i thought he said "what do you think of this?" to which i responded "it's ugly, donate!" oops.
5. lastly, now that i have all this extra space, i could use some new clothes.

pay it forward

today, i was at a local office for a meeting. the garage, unfortunately, only accepts cash. as i pulled into the garage, i knew that at some point i was going to have to run to the bank to get some money. luckily, there's a bank about 3 blocks from the office. once i wrapped up the meeting, i finished up some notes to myself, packed up, and made my way to the bank. at this point, the sky was quickly becoming black.

sidenote: there are several things, i hate about living in dc. 1) summers are hot, muggy, and generally disgusting. it's like walking through a swamp. a 5 minute walk to the metro really feels like, a 11.5 hour wimbledon tennis match. so, isner, i don't feel for you. that's how sweaty and exhausted i feel just walking to the train. it's totally the same. trust me.

so here i am, in my 3 inch heels, walking as fast as my little barbie stilettos will allow me. and about 1 block away, as i'm standing there, waiting for the pedestrian light to grant me permission to cross the street, i feel the first trickle of rain. and from trickle, we move on into full fledged monsoon. i run. cars be damned, i am not standing on the sidewalk. i run into the bank to get the cash and am just staring out the window. how am i going to get back to my car? slowly, i find myself with a group of patrons. we're all staring out the window. we look like kids who were just told there'd be no recess. pitiful. so since, i'm stranded, i start chatting it up with the bankers.

sidenote: lately, i find that i'm starting up conversations with strangers. i take this as a clear sign that i'm aging....or turning into my father....or both (i love you dad).

ok, back to the bankers. one of them offers me an umbrella. she says, take this and bring it back whenever. i tell her, i'm just down the street a few blocks so once i pick up my car i'll drive back to return the umbrella. again, she insists, "don't worry about it. bring it back whenever". with umbrella in hand, i sit back down in the chair at the bank. umbrella or not, it's a monsoon. i'm not going out there unless you put me in a hazmat suit. it dies down a little and i decide to make a run for it. as i walk towards the door, this little old lady looks at me with puppy dog eyes. she speaks little english so when i ask her if she wants to share the umbrella with me, she says, "to car." her car was just in the bank lot so i walked here there and went on my way. i figured if the bank was nice enough to lend me an umbrella, i might as well pay it forward (and, maybe pocket a little good karma for the day). you're welcome, universe. so how does the universe repay me? i walk into an enormous puddle (lake) and now my feet are sopping. also, because i was sharing the umbrella, the entire left side of my body is soaking wet. huddling under my umbrella, trying my best to not get the laptop in my purse wet, i managed to make it safely to my car and pay the dumb garage fee.

there are a couple morals to this story - 1) always carry an umbrella, 2) do not wear open toe shoes when the forecast calls for rain, 3) always makes your husband leave you money and, finally, 4) be awesome and nice (like me).