Anything Worth Saying

Now that's romantic.

2011-02-14T10:07:00.006-06:00

A few weeks ago I was chatting with some of my Monday night coworkers about romance. The only guy on the shift is a nice enough mid twenty something male who has plenty going for him but who couldn't figure out why girls seemed to shy away from him. In his mind, he was the perfect catch. That was perhaps the issue, but that's a discussion for another blog. "I'm the last of dying breed" he said to me after describing his last romantic encounter with an ex that included a bubble bath, red roses, wine, candles... you know, the whole enchilada.

I detected a distinct hint of pride when he said this, though I think he felt it churlish to really brag. He was after all surrounded by two married stay at home moms and a high school junior who was about to break it off with her long time "bf". We were clearly not the ones he wanted to impress with this statement.

For some reason this 3 minute long conversation has kind of stuck on rewind in my brain for the last few weeks. Perhaps it is because with Valentines Day rapidly approaching, pop culture has been pretty saturated with mush. At any rate, it instigated a good deal of reflection on my part. Mostly when I was in the shower, because the water drowns out the sound of my children screaming at me.

When was the last time my husband drew me a bath or bought me roses or even lit a candle? See, the truth is, I don't particularly care for baths in our tub- the paint is all chippy and though we have plans to renovate our bathroom after we get our tax refund, life is unpredictable. And I actually don't like roses. At all. Especially red ones. I do like candles, but I prefer ones that smell like apples or pumpkin or baking cookies and my spring fever is not really conducive to that... Mike likes evergreen scented ones. Same deal applies.

I racked my brain for the last truly romantic gesture my husband did for me, but the fact of the matter is, we just don't do stereotypical romance. For some reason, whether due to the fact that we're just more creative then that, or maybe just that we're poor, we've strayed from the social norm. So when girls look at me all sympathetic-like when I confess that my husband has never in our 10+ years of knowing each other, taken me to an uber fancy shmancy restaurant with food I can't pronounce and that probably has mushrooms in it, while playing Boccelli and presenting me with expensive jewelry...

It kind of irritates me. I get all defensive. I mean, we're just not like that. So he hasn't taken me to any swanky restaurant downtown ever. When we were in college, he planned a picnic on my dorm room floor. With no fungus, thanks very much. And while I'm cool with the classical vocal standards, my man is a bit more punk and country than that. In fact, while on vacation with his family a few years back, he sang Brad Paisley's Mud on the Tires at karaoke night, dedicating it to me. Sober. It still makes me smile all stupid when I think of it. He saved an entire summer working 13 hour days with the park district (not an easy feat, mind you) to buy my beautiful engagement ring and band. Maybe I don't get diamonds for "push presents" or random anniversaries, but once he went to a silent auction for his work and the ladies all convinced him to bid on a pearl necklace for me. The proud look on his face when he came home with such a classy gift was worth every penny.

Don't get me wrong. I'm a sucker for romance. I've read every work of Austen several times through. I watch reruns of The Office just to relive the Jim and Pam saga over and over. I wait in long lines with spastic tweens come opening night of each of the Twilight releases. I bought conversation hearts even though I don't really like the taste. But for all the stock that I put in romantic words and gestures, I don't remember a single word of Mike's speech when he proposed. Not one word. I do remember however, that he asked both of my dads and my mom for permission to propose in the first place. Because he knew it meant a lot to me.

And that's really it, isn't it? He knows what is important to me and he strives for that each and every day. He loves our children without abandon, even when they screech and scream and interrupt our Valentines dinner plans. He shovels the end of our driveway because even though I probably can get out, he knows I'm too nervous to try. He doesn't pout and complain when I fall asleep early. He compliments my cooking even though we both know its far below par most nights. He tells me I'm still "hot" even though I've had two babies in two years and my belly is stretched beyond appropriate bikini use. He still kisses me to distraction and he still makes me want to be a better wife for him.

So there. I have to disagree with my coworker friend. He's not the last of a dying breed; maybe just the last of a different one. One that I don't want to be a part of anyway.

Happy Valentines day, dear readers and friends and a very happy Valentines day to you, Mike. Infinity times three.

All Before 9 am

2011-02-10T09:46:00.006-06:00

This morning started off pretty well. I had noticed last week that staying home with my kids has this phenomenom of causing all the days to run together in one giant blurry Woodstock-worthy haze. That, coupled with the fact that I am currently working through my weekends at "The Bridge" lent to my decision that Thursday is the new Sunday where this Mom is concerned.

So I made the rule of "no real clothes"- we would wear our pjs all day long. And we'd eat a real breakfast that I actually cooked, rather than just toasted or microwaved. Just like regular folks do on a real weekend. Jonah and I had decided on scrambled eggs with cheese and toast with jelly; A gourmet chef I do not claim to be, afterall.

I took out the ingredients but noticed that there was a pretty sizable stack of the previous night's dishes taking over my counter space so I went to tackle those first. Jonah requested The Artistocats as his morning-mommy-making breakfast-movie (I never said I was mom of the year- my kids will be familiar with Disney classics and I'm not ashamed to say it. At least its better then the ginormous purple dino that should remain ever nameless on this blog). I set him up with his dvd and took to the dishes to task.

That was my first mistake. My boy doesn't like to wait. Within seconds I hear a rustling in the living room. I quickly ran in and saw Megan licking a butter wrapper like it was the last popsicle in the ice cream truck in the midle of July. My son? Well this is what I found...

"Yeah butter!" Really. That's what he said to me. "Yeah butter!" Like he was butter's own personal Cheerio. (That's a Glee shout out, just in case you didn't catch it.) Ewwwww. Ew.

Then, just cause its gonna be that kind of day... as I'm placing the butter in a dish to deal with later, I hear a shatter. An enormous shatter. Like a shatter I've never ecountered before. Man do those glass pirex bowles shatter. There was glass in Wyatt's kennel, behind our trash, somehow it hopped on the counter... incredible. It was a glassplosion.

And then just a teenie tiny "Oopsies, Mommy." Yeah. Oopsies.

This is post clean up... I figured risking the safety of my family in order to take a live action shot for my blog probably wasn't kosher with the DCFS folks.

Finally, hurricane Jonah was cleaned up, the dishes were hastily finished and I was getting my ingredients together again. Eggs. "Mommy eggs." That's right, my smart boy, Eggs. Where were my eggs?

He hands me two, but there were three in the carton. Where of where did that egg get to?

I'll tell you where.

In case you don't have the decor in my home memorized (for shame!), that's my couch. With egg yolks on it.

All before 9 am.

Cereal never treated me this bad. Just saying.

Snow day

2011-02-01T08:59:00.004-06:00

"Hey Jonah, tell your mommy that you want to shovel the driveway today."

That's how it began. Smirking as he walked out the door this morning, my husband knew he had planted the seed. The seed of hope in my almost two year old son, but also the seed of guilt in me. He was heading out to work despite the epic blizzard of the century that is supposed to hit this afternoon and I was staying home all cushy and cozy in my pjs and slippers.

I told myself it was silly to even shovel the 2.5 inches on our driveway, when in the grand scheme of things, they are calling for over a foot of snow in the next twenty four hours. I said to myself "Alice is sleeping, and you really can't leave her in the house." I thought about the insane amount of time it takes to get Jonah dressed in all his heavy layers. I thought about the fact that we only have one shovel and I would likely spend all that time out there fighting with Jonah over it.

But then another thought occurred to me. This may be a great way to tire that boy out for a nice loooong nap. Maybe just maybe the universe would align and for once when Jonah goes down for his nap, Alice won't wake up immediately. Maybe I would get a chance to shower. Really shower. Like shave my legs and get all the suds out and everything!

So with dreams of my shower to cheer me on, I gathered up the snow gear scattered throughout our little house. All in all, it took only about ten minutes, which is actually not too bad. I kept Jonah's footie pjs on, to speed things along and despite his best efforts each time I opened my bedroom door, he was not successful in waking his baby sister.

I grabbed a broom, hopeful that it might deter my son from a shovel tug-o-war and we headed out. Within seconds Jonah face planted in the snow. On purpose. He repeated this action with a giant silly grin on his face until suddenly he got to be less and less enthusiastic. Until he actually started crying. Snow is darn cold, afterall. Try as I might, I have thus far been unsucessful in communicating this to my boy.

I shoveled my little heart out, but I had only cleared our tiny porch at this point and being that I barely made it 3 minutes, I was not ready to give in so easily. I ran inside for another pair of mittens, strapped them on his red little fingers and we pressed on.

My dear child decided to take a little hike around the perimeter of the yard. I was working around our car when I heard his cries. He had somehow managed to burrow himself into the little drainage ditch at the end of our driveway. Once more, I picked him up, brushed him off and fetched yet another pair of mittens for his now purple fingers. Again, I began to shovel.

I was heading towards the end of our drive when he cried out again; this time even more pitifully then before. I rushed toward his voice only to to stopped short by the sight of my son army crawling towards my husband's boat with all the fervor and desperation of a boy lost in a desert who had spotted an oasis. "Mooooommmmy! I want the boat! Mooooommy! Boooooooat!" I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Of course. A boat is exactly the kind of thing that will save you in a situation like this.

He is so his father's son.

I fetched him again, got yet another pair of mittens, which I strapped to his purple and shaking little figners, and finished the driveway wtihout incident. He forgot his need for some time on the high seas and was content to pretend to shovel with his mother for a while and as I am writing this, we are safe and warm inside, though he is refusing to let me take off his coat, boots or snow pants still.

He keeps saying "Mommy, I want to go outside."

Oh heck no. We're good till spring.

What's it like?

2011-01-27T11:37:00.003-06:00

So I'm just gonna skip over the whole lengthy and excuse-ridden explaination of where I have been in the past year and some months. Lets just say, their names are Jonah and Alice and they are completely lovely.

That being said (very succinctly, I might add, which is new for me), since the arrival of little (and I mean little) Alice nearly three months ago, I've been asked over and over again by my mostly expecting friends "how is it with two kids?". Here is my reply...

A week or so ago, I came home from my new job as the manager on duty at a quasi swanky health club. It was late, probably about 11 pm and my husband was sitting on the couch looking decidedly exhausted but pleased with himself because both our children were asleep and the house was quiet. Our poor dogs were passed out on their pillow in the center of the living room, where I don't think the arrival of a million UPS guys could rouse them. It was dark and eerily silent, but the various baby and toddler parephenelia scattered about the room gave evidense of a typically busy day.

I went to the sink to grab a glass of water and looked down at my outfit for the first time all evening. I was dressed professionally, which as you all might remember is very uncharacteristic of me. Dark dress pants, black high heels, knee high stockings and a black turtle neck sweater.

Oh, Darnit.

The sweater was on backwards. There beneath my chin was the distinct outline of a tag.

That, my friends, is what it is like to be a mom of two. My intellectual image is ruined slightly by the nerdy tilt to my glasses form when my son decides to wear them as a belt and bends them out of shape. My shoulder is covered in puke stains because of my daughter's sensitve stomach. My maternity pants are falling off me because of the rapid weight loss due to my son's sudden appetite for whatever it is that I am eating and my daughter's eerie sense of timing. My hair hasn't been cut since 2009. Probably around the last time I blogged, actually.

But I love ever blessed second of it.

I may look a mess, but did you know that every time my son wakes from sleeping, he knocks on his door to come out, as one would knock on the door of strangers house? It's pretty much the most hilarious thing ever. And if I sigh around him, not even thinking about it, he asks me "what's the matter, momma?" I mean, really.

And Alice, she has dimples. And blue eyes. Blue!

So yeah, two under two is challenging. Very challenging. Over the mountain challenging.

But so worth it.

Finally- a Jim and Pam wedding!

2009-10-07T07:05:00.006-05:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4Ry90sDfnY&feature=related

Time for the little fangirl in me to shriek and scream and jump up and down and clap my hands together, ridiculously. An event five looooong "will they-won't they" seasons in the making....

Jim and Pam are getting married!!!

The classic story of boy meets girl- girl is engaged (but not setting the date) to big jerk- boy and girl become besties and everyone can see their cute as a button romantic feelings just hidden under the surface- boy confesses love to girl (GAH, that kiss, THAT KISS!)- she stays engaged-boy moves away- girl breaks off engagement- boy comes back but brings his new girl friend- girl confesses her love over a work place retreat bonfire- boy breaks it off with girlfriend- boy and girl secretly date- boy and girl get engaged at a gas station- boy and girl find out she's pregnant- boy and girl get married.

Tonight!!!

Honestly, I may be almost as excited as I was for my own wedding. Jim and Pam are hands down the sweetest, most hilariously quirky couple in pop culture today and I love love LOVE that this romance has been allowed to play out.

I've enclosed a little video montage of Jim and Pam moments, starting in season 4 when they began dating... its missing the drama, but its still so cute. (Note: please ignore the cheesy 90s balads, I didn't make this video... I just thought the clips were appropriate.)

Happy Thursday, everyone.

a look back at the last 7 months...

2009-10-02T16:19:00.002-05:00

So I've been scrolling through my old facebook status'... I was thinking of the ginormous gaps that I've left in my blog since Jonah was born and I thought this would be an interesting way to catch you all up... they are in order from most recent to least recent...

nothin says "Happy Friday" like waking up to a baby poohsaster. At least I've learned to hand the boy a toy before removing the diaper so he doesn't play in the squishiness below and rub it all over his belly and mine like he did yesterday. For realsies.

I've decided that not much has changed since I became a mom except for a decided lack of privacy that has increased tenfold now that my son can crawl. The world is his oyster, and that includes the bathroom. Is nothing sacred anymore?

Okay, found Jonah's social security card this morning and then got an email confirming that he's getting an official laminated name tag for the church nursery... this is nuts. I really have a son. I know he's been around 6+ months, b...ut still... sometimes these things just hit you upside the head.

thinks its just so wonderful that her little boy looks at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen no matter how terribly out of fashion and stressed out and frazzled she looks.

big weekend for the littlest Hahn: learned to crawl (watch out, he's on a roll and he loves vents!), learned to sit by himself (makes getting dressed so much easier!) and learned to drive the boat (he'll be captaining TMR booze cruises in ...no time!) all on his 6 month birthday (seriously, can you believe he's that old already?!). Pictures to follow.

thought it was Tuesday until I saw my facebook status and realized that Tuesday was yesterday. Seriously. Some people find out their relationship status on facebook, I find out what day it is. Babies totes suck out your brain, for real.

got a sleepy smile and a cuddle from my baby boy before I left for work way early this morning, and everything is right in the world. :)

just got caught singing the elephant show theme song and doing a goofy dance by the meter man through an open window. Unfortunately, Jonah was in the other room and I'm pretty sure the guy probably thought I was signing to myself, rather then m...y baby, which I swear I wasn't. Even if sometimes Jonah ignores me.

has finally shaved her legs and is celebrating by wearing a jean skirt on this beautiful summers day. It really is wonderful to be able to take a shower longer then 3 minutes every now and again.

used to think she would get excited at the end of her work day to go home to her hubbie... and she still does, but its NOTHING compared to how completely exstatic she is to go home to her little boy! Man I love that little drooley kid.

okay, kids, today was a monumental stepping stone in young Jonah's life (and thus, his mom's). We were finally able to agree on music for the car ride, and it wasn't baby einstein. Yes, my facebook friends, my son is a closet tree hugger like his momma.

is listening to her husband singing "Amazing Grace" to her little boy to drift him off to sleep. Doesn't get much sweeter then this.

riddle me this all you "back to sleep" SIDs compaigners... what on earth are you supposed to do when you son insists on rolling over to his tummy when he sleeps? He's a force to be reckoned with, this one!

is working an insane amount today so she can take the little bugger to meet his crazy family in Indy... thank heavens for Aunt Cassie and her super nephew-sitting skills! (not to mention the starbucks she promised to bring me...)

*thinks* that she may have sucessfully weaned Jonah off the pacifier and swaddleme for sleeping time, of course now she needs to sing him to sleep until her throat is hoarse and he may never appreciate music ever again... but still. I count it as a trium

is wondering if anyone has any napping tips? Jonah sleeps like a champ at night, but the concept of a nap is a bit lost on him.

promises that not all her status updates will be about Sesame Street, even though she is a mom, now, and thus a gazillion points lower on the global "hipness scale". THAT being said, my man Gordon is STILL on that show. I loved that guy! Today, there wa

just watched "Seseme Street" with Jonah and Elmo seriously got an email from Grover. About penguins, in case you were wondering.

is having a little bit of a rough start this morning since her little "Thumper" deicded to chat it up for a good hour around 3 am. Funny, that's when he was up and moving when I was pregnant with him, too...

just realized that Harry Potter and the Half blood Prince comes out NEXT MONTH! Man, having a baby around to distract me really makes time fly. I should have done this YEARS ago, when I was waiting for all those darn books to come out...

is hoping Jonah will keep napping just a bit longer, so his momma can jump in the shower.... nothing worse then an inconsolable baby when you're good and sudsy.

is digging on the fact that my son LOVES the Beach Boys. We've been jammin out this beautiful morning and he was histerical during "help me Rhonda"! Goodness being a mom is fun.

and Jonah just came back from a nice long walk on this beautiful day- the point, however, was not only to enjoy the outdoors, but also to lull him to sleep so I can work. Which he did, he fell asleep pretty much imediately upon walking out our door and t

is ready for her Mike to come home. Jonah's ready, too.

just took a cyber beating equivalent to a middle school playground smack down on the babycenter boards for defending a first time mom who asked a question about adding rice cereal to her kids bottle. Seriously? She was JUST asking! Yeesh. Not like she

is kind of dreading today... Jonah has shots at the doctor this morning (and if I make through the ordeal without crying, it will be a miracle) and then I have to head into the office this afternoon and attempt to work on my computer that seems to have be

is in the office and drinking coffee this morning... wow. feels like the old days, except I keep thinking of my little guy at his Grandma's... so a little bit different, I suppose. Happy Friday, everyone!

knew that it was a bad idea to give Jonah his night feeding so early... we just aren't ready to make that kind of step.

is finally able to get her wedding band back on after all that pregnancy-induced puffiness... the engagement ring is a work-in-progress, just yet. I'll keep you posted.

is procrastinating starting her morning... but if I wait too long, Jonah will start it for me and THAT will take all day to recover from... Good news is that its BEAUTIFUL outside!

is officially getting the curls chopped this morning. Sorry, Jonah, no more hanging on by your momma's hair! Now I know why "mommy cuts" happen... and I'm not afraid to say that's what I'm getting!

is spending all her free time coaxing smiles out of her son over and over. Its honestly the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life.

was JUST congratulating herself on finally kind of getting the hang of this whole baby thing... and then Jonah decided to prove her wrong with a nice'n fussy afternoon... and when I say fussy, I mean out of control screaming at the top of his lungs for a

read that babies should be able to fall asleep on their own without rocking or whatever... TWO HOURS later, Jonah is finally sleeping soundly. For the record, I can rock him to sleep in minutes. Ugh.

is cleaning her house with Jonah in the carrier- I'm totally afraid he's going to fall in the washing machine one of these times, but he loves it.

is going stir crazy and wishing it was a bit warmer so that she and Jonah could take a walk. I can only dance around my kitchen for so long...

is laughing at her son who is riding in his swing like he's on a rollarcoaster with his arms in the air. I'm a little jealous there isn't one of these in my size- it looks like fun!

is slowly figuring out her son- likes: Jimmy Eat World, dancing around with his mom and eating just to eat. Dislikes: his swing, circus music and socks.

is watching her son try to eat his overalls.

just really can't stop staring at her little boy. Does this ever go away? Because I'm having a difficult time getting anything done, here.

slept better last night then she did her entire pregnancy- go figure. Jonah is quite a guy.

Okay, for the record, jonah was 8lbs12oz ... Not 4oz... Give me some credit, here!

ITS A BOY! Jonah Britton Hahn 8lbs 4oz 20.5" born 4:02 pm, sorry I forgot the camera at the hospital I'll post pics soon. -Mike

The things we'll say when anonymous on cyberspace...

2009-10-02T13:29:00.005-05:00

"Ah Harry, how often this happens, even between the best of friends... each of us believes that what he has to say is much more important then what the other might contribute."

- Dumbledore Half Blood Prince

I've been doing a fair amount of thumb-twiddling today. Our IT guy was out of the office for a large portion of my work day (I won't get into the hows and whys... suffice it to say, it's happened before) and the two computers (yes, two, I'm terribly important) that I typically work on were out of commission. Just a fluke of nature or karma or perhaps God's way of telling me to take it easy, I suppose, but its been arduous and just plain old boring, around Erin's cube this dreary fall day (Note: not that I'd know it was dreary- no windows in my cube; but every now and again I catch a glimpse of what lies beyond when I venture out to the restrooms).

So, anyways, I've been surfing the net. Typically I favor ew.com and cnn.com for my daily new fixes. A little bit serious and a little bit frivolous (very indicative, if you ask me). Anyways, I normally just skim the headlines and articles if they catch my eye and then close my browser and move on with my day. However, since I've been held up this afternoon, I've been perusing comments.

Wow.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

People are boldy vicious when they have the anonymity of the internet to hide their true identities!

I've read articles on the Letterman scandal (yeesh, that must of been akward to witness live), the 2016 olympics bid and last night's episode of Survivor. The first two, I imagine would cause a bit of controversy regardless, but a reality TV show?! Heaven's above, folks sure get a fire under their butts about those tribal councils!

Here's a few choice samples of what I found:

"umm…it’s creep, not creap. perhaps you should return to school. Or did you never go? " (Let's not even get into the grammer issues on this particular entry... All I want to say is 'Pot. Kettle.')

"letterman is simply a moronic idiotic fool! I’ve know this for years, and now the whole country knows it! Hopefully, this will lead to his downfall, so we no longer have to see or listen to this miserable pathetic stupid man!" (Further adjectives need not apply)

"All of these “christian value” motivated people so eager and delighted to judge and condemn. Forget, the obvious fact that you have no context for any of the relationships or knowledge of where he and his wife stand together, you are eager and happy to condem. So Christlike." (so many were "so eager" to throw religion in the mix... forgive me if I don't see the validity of anonymouosly arguing theology on the Entertainment Weekly comment boards...)

Yeesh...

Anyways, if every you have the chance, dear friends, check out the comment boards. It'll make you eternally grateful for the distinct lack of bitter and angsty drama in your own lives.

Unless you are one of those commenters, yourself. In which case, stay away from my comment button. My feelings get hurt easily.

Is anyone else...

2009-10-01T14:01:00.003-05:00

Sick to death of this guy?

Ew.

Please, oh please, let us stop giving press to Jon Gosselin and his hair plugs.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/TV/10/01/jon.gosselin.vs.tlc/index.html

The last two years...

2009-10-01T12:14:00.005-05:00

http://erin-anythingworthsaying.blogspot.com/2007/09/coming-of-age.html

Two years, my friends. I started this blog just over two years ago with the entry above. My "coming of age" entry. The entry in which I lamented my quarter-century birthday. Check it out; it's pretty quality, if I do say so myself. Okay, a tad bit self-seeking and whiny, but good nonetheless.

Today, I have officially dropped off the cliff of my midtwenties into the vast canyon that is my late twenties. And how am I feeling about this you may ask (whilst cringing to yourself because you really don't want to hear it if I'm still cranky-McCrankerson about the whole thing)?

Eh, well, dearies, its not that bad.

I know, right? Egads, Erin's not in mourning on her birthday?! What is this world coming to?

No, I guess I'm not.

Don't get me wrong, things are often times still messy in my crazy, mixed up little world.

I do have dark circles under my eyes, and two years ago, I didn't even know what that meant.

I'm wearing unflattering khaki pants that I bought at Kohls. Not Anne Taylor. Not Gap or Banana Republic. Kohls. "Expect Great Things", right? But seriously, don't buy these pants. (although, at some point, its got to be the wearer's fault, I suppose. Perhaps its my post baby thighs that are less then flattering. Let's think about that later, today is my birthday afterall.)

My knees are achy from sitting at a computer day and day out.

And my brain is starting to petrify from lack of use.

I sometimes forget to brush my teeth on Saturdays (I think its the absence of my weekday routine that throws me off).

Last night, I watched baby einstien. It was only for about 5 minutes and Jonah was definitely in the room with me. But still.

This entire week, my husband and I have been glued to the couch each night to watch "National Parks: America's Best Idea" on PBS and we were actually lamenting our lack of DVRing capabilities since we won't be able to do a re-watch. Not lying.

All very clear signs that I am older. Not all bad, though. I mean, to my decidedly hipper 25 year old self, maybe it would appear as though I've let myself go, but I'm okay with it. Well okay, not the thigh part, but as I said, we're not thinking of that today.

I have a beautiful baby boy who looks at me like I'm the sunshine in his day. My husband is still the funniest guy I know and he's somehow able to make me thankful that he asked me to marry him every single moment we spend together. Even the ones that are less then pleasant. I still have my health, a decent job and a truck that gets me places. My family still loves eachother and me and they are all accomplishing truely magnificient things, all of which I find myself a part of.

My man, JC, He takes good care of me and mine and really, there is very little I can find that could make me think ill of my turning another year older. (Don't. Focus. On. The. Thighs.)

So there. You all thought I would piss and moan and I didn't. Maybe I am growing up, afterall.

Have you ever wondered

2009-08-28T06:24:00.004-05:00

http://http//www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/08/27/california.kidnap.shed/index.html

I'm a thinker. I can sit at my picnic table in my backyard just thinking for literally hours on end about nothing of real consequence. I'm an odd duck, I know; we've been through that particular discussion before. Sometimes, when my nearly six month old son is just sitting and staring off into space, I wonder if he's going to be a thinker like his momma (in between his spastic bouts of energy that come from his fathers genes) and if so, are we going to just sit and think together at that picnic table? Hm. That'll get the neighbors talking. Those weird Hahn's are out there thinking again.

Anyhow, something I've thought about since I was old enough to comprehend it is how fortunate I am that I grew up in the circumstances I did. I've wondered about how we really have zero control over what we are born in to. I've thought about how I could have been born into an impoverished african nation to an AIDs-ridden mother. Or to a Poland Jew in a concentration camp. Or to a slave in Georgia in the 1800's. Of course, I could have been born into a wealthy dynasty, too, but I try not to let my mind wander that way... (kidding, mom)

Anyways, it is facinating to me to ponder how God chose this particular time, place and family for me. Which of course leads one to further expect that He chose that particular time, place and family for that african orphan or for Paris Hilton. Then I have mornings like this one, where I read about a young girl, abducted at 11 years of age in 1991 to be locked away in shed and raped by her kidnapper only to become pregnant and raise her two children in that very same shed until they were, in turn 11 and 16 years old.

I think of those children who were literally born and raised in a shed. A shed in the backyard of their kidnapper father's house. Where everyone just lives their mundane suburbian lives around them and doesn't even realize that they are there. Could they hear life passing them by? Did they know there was more out there? What did that mother say to those children while they were growing up about their circumstances?

Incredible. That could have very easily been any of us, but it wasn't. It was her and it was them. Why was it them?

I have no idea.

Wow... overthink much? These entries are the ones that I kinda wish I could just erase... only because they are rambling... but I won't do it because its all about the growth, right? So. Yikes.

Emily Post is not my friend.

2009-08-27T16:45:00.011-05:00

I hate thank you cards.

Truely, I do.

It is in the opinion of this blogger that they are a completely unecessary and impractical notion. Think of all the occassions that require thank you notes. Weddings, babies, graduations, funerals. Giant, life-altering events that are often times preceeded and proceeded by the most hectic and emotionally exhausting weeks or months or even years of ones life.

Not exactly the perfect set up for thoughtful communication, is it? Furthermore, I have yet to really receive and/or write a seriously meaningful thank you card. For starters, the cards are too darn little; and if you have been blessed with large handwriting (as I have been), that limited space isn't much for lengthy sentiments (and those are the only kinds of sentiments I do). Inevitably, I end up continuing onto the back, because I can't control my rambling in my efforts to fully express my gratitude, and since I write in pen (because pencil is tacky, right?) I can't take that rambling back.

Secondly, they are, in general, impersonal. Honestly, when have you recieved a card that did not contain the following format: Dear (insert name here), thank you so much for the (insert item/s here). I can't wait to use it when I (insert occassion here). It was wonderful to see you at (insert festivity here). Again, thanks. (insert chosen adieu here)?

I mean, come on. The problem I have is that I see a handwritten envelope in my mail box that is typically filled with impersonal bills and commercial junk and my little adolecent note-passer heart leaps, only to have my hopes dashed with a generic thank you note.

Now, I need to stop here and clarify in the event that I have hurt anyone's feelings. That is certaintly not my intention. I appreciate the thought behind thank you notes. The idea is refreshing and polite and wonderfully victorian. Its just that I would sooooo much rather even a random email or facebook comment on my wall then a standardized card that someone was forced by the unforseen ettiquette police (and perhaps the memory of their grandmother and her impeccable manners) to write me.

I bought you the gift because I love you and I care. No need to thank me for that. And if I buy something for someone I barely know, then a card is needed even less. Likely, I forgot I even did it and there is no need for you to go to all the trouble of finding my address on yellowpages.com for something like that.

Which brings me to another point. How crazy difficult it is to find out someones address nowadays! Heavens above, no one under the age of thirty is listed in the phone book and therefore, no one under the age of thrity knows how to navigate those paper wasters anymore anyways. Of course, as aforementioned, you can google someone, but that traverses the way too fine line between inquisitive and creepy. one minute you're researching an address and the next you've got college transcripts and police blotter on your screen. Yikes TMI.

All in the name of ettiquete.

I guess you could say that I am likely writing this out of guilt. After my son was born we were blessed with an overabundance of beauitful gifts and I haven't gotten around to writing even one thank you card. I've thanked many people, personally, but never actually written a word. Baby, full time work and just plain old life has gotten in the way and I hate hate HATE that it is eating me up inside that I haven't begun the monumental task of writing out those small curtesies. And now that its been six loooong months, and I'm frankly embarassed.

So there you have it. Make what you will out of this. But don't expect anything so polite as a thank you from me for reading. Homegirl don't do that kind of thing apparently.

The hardest thing about being a mom...

2009-05-10T08:46:00.003-05:00

Being a mom is hard work.

You have to be a superwoman multitasker who can exist while sleep deprived, food deprived and in all seriousness, sanity deprived. No one tells you this because a. You won't believe them, if they did. and b. The human race would fall into extinction. No, moms don't share those kinds of stories (birth stories, of course, are a whole other ball of wax, they're like some right of passage or something. EVERYONE shares the gory details fo their labors, and typically its when you're in own 9th month and therefore too far gone to change your mind. What is WITH that?).

But I'm not going to be like that. I feel there is healing in sharing so here is a tip for all you future moms. Get your babies declawed in the hospital. You read right. Declawed. Like they do to kittens. At least, like they did before animal rights activists stepped in. I mean, really, it can't be worse than circumscision, can it?

Okay, in all seriousness, cutting a newborn's nails is probably the hardest thing I've ever done. Even harder then childbirth. Maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe not, though, because there is this crazy phenomena that I'd like to call "leaving the hospital memory loss" where the second you roll out those doors in that silly wheelchair with your new bundle, you forget what it felt like to be in labor. Its like the nurses perform some sort of magical memory charm as you are relased (yeah, that was a Harry Potter reference). Just last weekend, I was walking with my husband, whining about rolling my ankle when stepping off a curb (so graceful) and how much it STILL hurt days later and I actually said "I haven't hurt myself like this in years..."

Seriously. I said that. The scar from where they sliced me open and yanked out my nearly 9 lb son is still a brutal red slash- and I'm moaning about a twisted ankle! But, there you have it. A memory charm, I am convinced of it.

ANYWAYS, waaay off topic... Nail trimming is a terrifying experience. I put it off as long as I could before Jonah started to look like he had gotten into a fight a with a feral street cat (and lost, bad). Then, I had to intervene, before DCFS shows up on my porch. NOTE: In case you were wondering, he long ago outgrew all his little mitten-sleepers and socks won't stay on his feet, let alone his hands...

I tried to convince my husband to do it. I mean, I feed him 12 times a day, the least he could do is trim his nails, for crying out loud (btw, Mike is an incredible dad and helps all the time... I might be exaggerating a tad for the sake of the story)! But, Mike gives up after about 20 seconds (That part isn't an exaggeration), which is about as long as his short fuse and big man hands can stand it.

So that leaves me. Have you felt a baby's nails? All that is protecting their poor, unblemished fingertips is this tissue paper thin layer of nail. And they give you these crazy sharp nail trimmers with an obonoxious magnifying glass attached to them (not at all helpful) and you're expected to NOT cut your baby? They (the super mommies on Babycenter.com) tell you to trim while your baby sleeps. But honestly, once Jonah is out, no one, and I mean NO ONE is allowed to touch him. Make all the noise you want, but don't you dare come near him and wake him up! Its the only chance I may have all day to pee and eat a granola bar! And then they say "bite his nails". First of all, that seems a little icky. He sticks his hands in his own poop on a regular occasion. I mean, yeah, that's probably my fault, but c'mon! Second of all, I used to bite my nails for years, and I remember the bloody hangnails that resulted from my chewing. THAT can't be good, either.

So all I've been able to comprimise with is to trim after he's in his post-giant feeding, drunk on warm milk-food coma (post bathtime, for a super drowsy baby!). I tried it last night, and I was successfully able to trim one hand and the thumb off his other hand before he caught on. Better then nothing I suppose, but he still has 4 sharp fingers left and for some reason, they seem to grow in a pointy shape for extra clawing capabilities. I COULD hold him down like they do at the pediatrician, I suppose and just get it over with... but, I'm not quite at that point yet. The whole giving-an-unsuspecting-happy-baby-a-massively-painful-shot process still makes me cry everytime, so I'd prefer to keep it within the confines of the doctor's office.

Thus, Jonah is currently sound asleep in his swing this morning with weapons attached to his tiny chubby fingers, wolverine fashion.

So there you have it, kids. My dillema. Input is, of course, welcome.

Happy Mom's day, everyone!

Further proof, as if you needed any, that I am a dork.

2009-05-08T10:19:00.003-05:00

http://http//www.fanfiction.net/community/Good_Completed_Twilight_Fiction/57325/

So I said in my previous entry that I haven't been able to read, and that's not entirely truthful, I haven't been able to read books...

Online fanfiction is another story. I discovered that late night feedings are condusive to internet searching since it only takes one hand to scroll. Really, there isn't much else to do at 12am, 2am and 4 am and I've seen enough shamwow infomercials to last a lifetime. So there. My secret is out. I read fanfiction. Not only do I read it, I read it all the time. Seriously, its addicting! Okay, so some stories are much higher quality then others. Some are just plain smut- though I have learned through trial and error to typically avoid the "M" for mature setting- PG 13 all the way for my little modest heart. Not to mention, its pretty disconcerting to read something over the top, only to find out it was written by a 14 year-old (for real, this happened to me. It was probably the most vulgar thing I've EVER read and when I checked her profile, it was all tennis practice and homework troubles! Talk about embarassing...)

Anyways, I've kind of got it down to a science. Thus far, I've traversed into the Twilight and Harry Potter fanfiction universe. (surprised? I think not.) When reading Twilight, I tend to favor AH, AU, T rating, Canon Pairings, Completed fic. Translated into non-dorky language, that is All-human, alternate universe, teen rating, typical romantically involved couples (learned this one after reading one too many Edward/Jasper, Carlisle/Bella pairings. I mean, really, let's not be ridiculous. Bella would NEVER stomp on Esme that way!), and completed stories (nothing worse the reading something that never was completed by the author. Probably because they got grounded or something. Yeah, I said it. ) Truelly, I hate to read anything that messes with the original story line, so I nix the vampires, which basically makes the stories a typical chic flic, only, online. Again, not surprising when you consider who we're talking about here. You all know my slight obsession with chic flic. I heart happy endings and pink book covers.

As far as the Harry Potter fanfic goes, I am much less open. I read only Post-DH (Deathly Hallows, so we're typically talking Harry/Ginny epilogue) or James and Lilly stories. Only the stuff my girl, JK Rowling, never touched on. Nothing sacred, of course.

And there's some good stuff out there! I doubt any of you are nerdy enough to be interested, but if you are, let me know and I'll make some recommendations. I have hours of sorting through the crazy, out of control world that is fanfiction, behind me!

I know what you are probably thinking, and I have yet to be tempted to write my own... though if I ever make that journey, you will all be first in line to know. It takes much less time to read them to write at this point and time is precious!

Plus, it is one thing to read fanfic, its an entirely other thing to actually write it... a whole 'nother level of "odd duck" and I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet.

PS I'm not THAT bad. My uber cool, ultra intelligent younger PhD program little brother was into warcraft a while back and confessed to me that one night, while playing online, his "partner" had to logg off because "his mom was calling him" (for real) and rather then feeling stupid for playing with an a little guy, he was actually dissapointed because he was losing a good partner!

PPS Don't tell Jonah what a total nerd his mom is. I already have Mike rolling his eyes at me. Although, he's not much better HE watches fishing videos online. Poor, poor Jonah...

She's back!

2009-05-07T18:22:00.004-05:00

Well, well, well... look who's back!

Okay, I know. Its been a ridiculously long time, but I have a reasonable excuse and I promise to give my most sincere effort to not let this long of a lag in blog entries happen ever again...

That being said, I would like my first effort in returning to the wonderful world of blogging to be an ode to my last entry, done 8 weeks prior to Jonah's birth (which will be referred to from this point on as PJ, as in "pre-Jonah". For obvious reasons, we won't use "before-Jonah".) (if it isn't obvious, that's just fine. forget I mentioned it.) This was actually inspired by Jess- whose little guy was born a month P-J, and who's been a late night life saver on my facebook messanger a time or two. Thanks, Jess.

Things I can't do anymore (8 weeks after Jonah):

1. Go to the bathroom with the door closed. Please, oh please don't let my neighbors ever see me pee!
2. Take a shower longer then 7 and a half minutes (for real, I think that's my personal best)
3. Button my old jeans... which is odd because...
4. Eat three, make that two square meals a day. I subsist on cheese-its and "dark chocolate and nuts trail mix" bars by Nature Valley.
5. Watch an entire episode of anything except cooking shows. For some reason my son LOVES cooking shows. Lydia's Italy is his current fav. He loves the butter and carbs, just like his momma.
6. Wash my hands enough. I mean it, be careful when you shake my hands, you have no idea if I had the chance to soap up after a diaper change! And chances are, I have no idea either.
7. Get grossed out from poop. Honestly, I hardly even notice and there's been some real doosies!
8. Talk in a normally-pitched voice. Its getting higher and higher every day. I can't help it! He smiles more the squeakier I go!
9. Listen to obnoxiously loud, angry music in the car. Its all baby einstein travel tunes and lifehouse these days. Yes, Erin Hahn, music snob extroidinaire, listens to plinky motzart performed with annoying yet oddly comforting, whistles and xylaphones.
10. Remember to take care of myself. A big ol "Amen" to Jess' comment about brushing teeth. I'd add to that: shaving my legs, washing my make up off at the end of the day (if I even put it on), lotioning up, deoderant (I have some strategically placed all over, in case I notice I forgot. In fact, I have chewing gum all over, too... in case I forget to brush my teeth and lotion in the car, for when I forget that, too. That just leaves shaving, which, lets face it, was a lost cause P-J, anyways.)
11. Go right to sleep without checking "just one more time" that he's still breathing.
12. Carry a purse. That was a biggie for me, only because I used to LOVE handbags of all shapes and sizes. Now the only size is LARGE and it contains all Jonah parephenelia and my chapstick.
13. Look in to my son's smiling face and NOT see his father, or vice versa. And I love that.
14. Read a book! Seriously, did you ever think I would say that? I can kind of read, just its in very small stints and only when Jonah is asleep and Mike isn't around... I imagine I will work out something eventually. Harry Potter movie this summer and Twilight movie next fall... I'll need to reread and prep for those...
15. Remember what it was like to not be a mom and totally in love with my little boy... but that's okay.

At any rate, there are lots of things I can't do, but they seem very minimal in the grand Jonah-filled picture, if you want to know the truth. I live each day in a crazy, multitasking blur, but its essentially all done in order for me to be able to freeze time for just a bit and watch Jonah smile and coo for his mom. And that, readers, is completely worth all of it.

I can no longer...

2008-12-29T09:07:00.002-06:00

Things I can no longer do now that I am in my final 8 weeks of pregnancy:

1. Tie my shoes. I've been wearing slip ons for weeks, thank goodness for thick winter socks.

2. Get dressed after breakfast. I can, but it takes much longer and I need a nap afterwords. Seriously. Once there is baby AND food in belly, game over.

3. Eat without mint gum or Tums or a ginormous glass of milk nearby to kill the inevitable heartburn that shows up almost immediately after swallowing.

4. Get off my couch without assistance. If Mike isn't around, I actually have to do the scooch-scooch-scooch to the edge, then rock back and forth grunting like an elderly woman in order to get back on my feet. Wyatt, who is usually cuddling with me, is starting to look concerned. Yesterday, I actually attempted to get him to "fetch up" the couch pillow that fell on the floor after I laid down. He just stared at me.

5. Eat chili magic. So sad. So not worth the sleepless night, though.

6. Live without my constantly filled waterbottle.

7. Enter a store without hitting the bathroom first. And sometimes hitting it again before I leave for home.

8. See my feet.

9. Pick up anything on the floor with out grunting and huffing and steadying myself once I stand up again.

10. Wear a winter coat. Not because they don't fit, I mean, they don't, but because I get too darn hot. I am seriously shocked most mornings by the temperature gadge in my car, because I always feel balmy. Or sweaty. Whichever.

There's plenty more, I am sure, but I also can't remember anything anymore.

For Lindsay....

2008-12-18T07:57:00.003-06:00

http://popwatch.ew.com/popwatch/2008/12/its-internation.html

Best news I've heard all day... today is officially "answer the phone like Buddy the Elf" day. So when you're sitting at your desk in a food coma after eating leftover office party chinese this afternoon (Like I will most certainly be...), liven things up a bit with a "Buddy Elf, what's your favorite color?" line and see what unfolds.

I mean, its the official day for it according to ew.com, so you can't actually get in trouble, right? I have caller ID, so we'll see if I get the chance to brighten the day of someone who has a friendly sounding name.

This one is for you, Linds.

Hilarious. Merry Christmas!

2008-12-11T09:09:00.002-06:00

No, this is not my house... but it could be. We actually don't have any lights up outside... but we did take them out, just they are sitting in our laundry room. In a box.

Okay, I know this is the epitome of pathetic, but...

2008-11-18T09:28:00.005-06:00

How on earth will I make it until FRIDAY?!!! :)

Ugh. And the most pathetic thing is that I am going to see it with my little sister, and she works in a coffee shop, so I can't see it until she gets off work which means that I am going to the 11pm showing. Me, who hasn't been up past 10 (on purpose) since May buying advanced tickets for an 11pm show!

It must be love. For the movie and books, not my sister... though, that too. :)

amazing what a few short months can do to a girl...

2008-11-17T08:26:00.004-06:00

Taken yesterday... a little blurry, but you get the idea. That flushed and sweaty (yes, my friends, THAT is what they call the "pregnancy glow"- what a crock!) pink mess is me.

Taken back in June at my good friend, Rachel's wedding- I was barely 5 weeks along at the time. In case you can't recognize me (don't worry, I have a hard time believing it myself), I am second in from the left with the cute pink flowers.

They tell me you get back to normal within a few months, and every little nudge from baby Hahn is confirmation that I am, of course, doing the right thing here... but it sure is hard to let your pride and vanity go. :)

Sheesh.

2008-11-11T15:35:00.002-06:00

How about this for making you feel old?

The so-called Nirvana baby turned 17.

http://popwatch.ew.com/popwatch/2008/11/nivana-baby-now.html

Just attempting to plan our baby registry and...

2008-11-07T15:25:00.006-06:00

Okay, so seriously, what is the difference between these two?! Okay, besides the fact that the one on the left is decidedly more hip looking... but its also $100 more! I am at a loss... this is how my entire "baby browsing" experience has been this afternoon. Everything looks the same and I have absolutely no idea what I am going to need for this little one. I mean, I want permanent infant car seats. And, since Mike and I both drive and may do some shifting around with pick ups and such, it is probably a good idea to get two, isn't it? Or do we just get two bases?

And what about a stroller? I want a jogging stroller so I can get back into my running after the baby is born, but can you use a jogging stroller as a regular stroller or vice versa? And if I can't, do I need a regular stroller, or can I just get a sling /carrier for the baby and use that when I am shopping or running errands? And THEN there is the issue with the baby bathtub thingie. Do you even realize how many different kinds of bath tub seats there are? I am thisclose to just hosing down my baby in the sink with the sprayer while Mike holds it up. Honestly, what's wrong with that?

And do I really need a rocking/gliding/vibrating/swaying-while playing music and giving a personal laser light show chair?! Isn't that just asking for my baby to be ADD? The odds are already stacked against me with my short-attention-spanned hyperactic husband passing along his genes, do I really want to contribute to that?

And finally, diaper bags. Do you even realize how much a hip little diaper bag costs? Like $50-$150! Now really, I don't even spend that much on my own purses, I'm certaintly not going to spend it on something that will likely end up covered in drool-mush cheerios and poop. Can't I just use a book bag or something?

I don't think that its the babies themselves that are all that expensive, really. I think its just the accessories! I am bound and determined to not get caught up in this... so anyone out there with practical experience, please speak up!

PS What was the website again, Kevin? That one with ideas about saving money with kids or something? Ugh.

I'm gonna cave I just know it...

2008-11-06T08:20:00.004-06:00

I've been trying my hardest to reign in any premature Christmas spirit. You know the deal, you get super excited once the red and green paraphenelia clutter Walmart the day after Halloween and all of a sudden you're dangerously close to over-stimulating your Holiday cheer. For me this centers around Christmas music typically. The day after Halloween, I will pull out my old Christmas mix CDs and casually throw them in my car "just in case", which in turn end up on replay in my car stereo until I can't handle one more second of Nat King Cole (oh, how I LOVE Nat King Cole!). But also, I'll start baking up a storm, packing on the holiday weight before Thanksgiving even arrives. I'll even pick up a few Christmas gifts, ones that I probably won't even like come the day of giving, and therefore end up spending twice as much money on friends and family when I rush back to the stores last minute to get them something else!

Keeping all this in mind, however, last year I was kind of a dud. Okay, I was a serious holiday dud. It may have been because I was in the first trimester of my pregnancy with Johnny Hahny number one (who sadly never made it past New Years). Or maybe it was the lack of funds (which isn't ever going to improve, so really that shouldn't be an issue). Or perhaps I just didn't let myself get caught up in it all. Maybe I reigned it in so much, that I lost it all together.

So this year, I may just allow myself to overindulge. I am pregnant afterall. So far in my 24 weeks, I haven't really had a single craving... perhaps THIS will be it for me. Christmas. There could be worse things, right? I mean, at least it isn't Taco Bell and pickles in ice cream! Here is my first temptation... read it and shake your head in wonder. :) Isn't it fabulous?

The Christmas Mix!
Christmas is in the air - and on the air! The Christmas Mix on 99.1 WMYX plays your favorite Christmas songs from Bing Crosby, Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Mannheim Steamroller and Dean Martin! Re-live memories from Christmas Past and create new ones with the perfect Mix of Christmas music! The perfect backdrop to holiday gatherings with friends and family is the great Christmas music you'll hear on The Christmas Mix.

I'm not entirely sure when this station started playing the Christmas tunes, but Mike realized it on Halloween on his drive home from work. He's so far been able to abstain, but I have to admit to wandering in that direction a few times since. Luckily for me, both times its been "Baby it's cold outside", which technically isn't JUST a Christmas song, despite its popularity since its appearance on your favorite new Christmas classic and mine, "Elf". So really, I'm not that lame. (side note to college roomies if you're out there... remember our answering machine message "Erin Elf, Lindsay Elf, Katie Elf and Megan Elf... What's your favorite color?" We thought we were sooooo clever and it took about 40 minutes to actually record. And then no one could really even tell what we were saying over the music in the background. Luckily only our then boyrfriend's ever really called! That wasn't really a shining moment on Pine Street.)

But anyways, its also supposed to get COLD this weekend! We've had a few short cold spells, but this past week its been gorgeously 70 degrees and sunny. Its easy to fight the visions of sugar plums when your driving around with your windows rolled down! But that "obstacle" is finally coming to an end...

Tomorrow Nov 07
Sprinkles
Hi: 52° Lo: 36°
Day: Chance of moderate rain showers. High 52F

Saturday Nov 08
Sprinkles
Hi: 44° Lo: 35°
Chance of moderate rain showers with snow showers. High 44F and low 35F.

Sunday Nov 09
Flurries
Hi: 44° Lo: 33°
Chance of very light snow showers. High 44F and low 33F.

Monday Nov 10
Fair
Hi: 46° Lo: 36°
Partly cloudy skies. High 46F and low 36F.

Time to get festive, my friends. :)

No matter what you stand for... this is pretty awesome.

2008-11-05T14:01:00.003-06:00

Obama victory sparks cheers around the globe

By JOHN LEICESTER, Associated Press Writer John Leicester, Associated Press Writer –

AP – Koichi Morii, an Obama citizen, holds Obama fish burgers, which are sold in the city, to celebrate Barack …
PARIS – Barack Obama's election as America's first black president unleashed a renewed love for the United States after years of dwindling goodwill, and many said Wednesday that U.S. voters had blazed a trail that minorities elsewhere could follow.
People across Africa stayed up all night or woke before dawn to watch U.S. history being made, while the president of Kenya — where Obama's father was born — declared a public holiday.
In Indonesia, where Obama lived as child, hundreds of students at his former elementary school erupted in cheers when he was declared winner and poured into the courtyard where they hugged each other, danced in the rain and chanted "Obama! Obama!"

"Your victory has demonstrated that no person anywhere in the world should not dare to dream of wanting to change the world for a better place," South Africa's first black president, Nelson Mandela, said in a letter of congratulations to Obama.
Many expressed amazement and satisfaction that the United States could overcome centuries of racial strife and elect an African-American as president.

"This is the fall of the Berlin Wall times ten," Rama Yade, France's black junior minister for human rights, told French radio. "America is rebecoming a New World.

"On this morning, we all want to be American so we can take a bite of this dream unfolding before our eyes," she said.

In Britain, The Sun newspaper borrowed from Neil Armstrong's 1969 moon landing in describing Obama's election as "one giant leap for mankind."

Yet celebrations were often tempered by sobering concerns that Obama faces global challenges as momentous as the hopes his campaign inspired — wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the nuclear ambitions of Iran, the elusive hunt for peace in the Middle East and a global economy in turmoil.
The huge weight of responsibilities on Obama's shoulders was also a concern for some. French former Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin said Obama's biggest challenge would be managing a punishing agenda of various crises in the United States and the world. "He will need to fight on every front," he said.

Russian President Dmitry Medvedev said he hoped the incoming administration will take steps to improve badly damaged U.S. ties with Russia. Tensions have been driven to a post-Cold War high by Moscow's war with U.S. ally Georgia.

"I stress that we have no problem with the American people, no inborn anti-Americanism. And we hope that our partners, the U.S. administration, will make a choice in favor of full-fledged relations with Russia," Medvedev said.

Europe, where Obama is overwhelmingly popular, is one region that looked eagerly to an Obama administration for a revival in warm relations after the Bush government's chilly rift with the continent over the Iraq war.

"At a time when we have to confront immense challenges together, your election raises great hopes in France, in Europe and in the rest of the world," French President Nicolas Sarkozy said in a congratulations letter to Obama.

Poland's Foreign Minister Radek Sikorski spoke of "a new America with a new credit of trust in the world."

Skepticism, however, was high in the Muslim world. The Bush administration alienated those in the Middle East by mistreating prisoners at its detention center for terrorism suspects at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, and inmates at Iraq's Abu Ghraib prison — human rights violations also condemned worldwide.

Some Iraqis, who have suffered through five years of a war ignited by the United States and its allies, said they would believe positive change when they saw it.

"Obama's victory will do nothing for the Iraqi issue nor for the Palestinian issue," said Muneer Jamal, a Baghdad resident. "I think all the promises Obama made during the campaign will remain mere promises."

In Pakistan, a country vital to the U.S.-led war on the al-Qaida terrorist network and neighbor to Afghanistan, many hoped Obama would bring some respite from rising militant violence that many blame on Bush.

Still, Mohammed Arshad, a 28-year-old schoolteacher in the capital, Islamabad, doubted Obama's ability to change U.S. foreign policy dramatically.

"It is true that Bush gave America a very bad name. He has become a symbol of hate. But I don't think the change of face will suddenly make any big difference," he said.

Obama's victory was greeted with cheers across Latin America, a region that has shifted sharply to the left during the Bush years. From Mexico to Chile, leaders expressed hope for warmer relations based on mutual respect — a quality many felt has been missing from U.S. foreign policy.

Venezuela and Bolivia, which booted out the U.S. ambassadors after accusing the Bush administration of meddling in their internal politics, said they were ready to reestablish diplomatic relations, and Brazil's president was among several leaders urging Obama to be more flexible toward Cuba.

On the streets of Rio de Janeiro, people expressed a mixture of joy, disbelief, and hope for the future.

"It's the beginning of a different era," police officer Emmanuel Miranda said. "The United States is a country to dream about, and for us black Brazilians, it is even easier to do so now."
Many around the world found Obama's international roots — his father was Kenyan, and he lived four years in Indonesia as a child — compelling and attractive.

"What an inspiration. He is the first truly global U.S. president the world has ever had," said Pracha Kanjananont, a 29-year-old Thai sitting at a Starbuck's in Bangkok. "He had an Asian childhood, African parentage and has a Middle Eastern name. He is a truly global president."
___
AP correspondents worldwide contributed to this report.

Wow... we can and we actually did.

2008-11-05T08:27:00.002-06:00

I must say, I am a little shocked speechless this morning. In the best possible way, though. For all my griping about America, we actually pulled it off.

Yes, we can and we did.

I was on the edge of my couch last night, sitting in my fluffy bathrobe, waiting for the results. And when I say waiting, what I really mean is I was flipping back and forth through all the networks for three hours straight knowing that it would take forever for any results to come through, but also being quite aware of the fact that we don't have cable and therefore the networks were my only option (no switching back with the discovery channel or animal planet for me!). And then Ohio came in. Democratic. The statement was made that no Republican had ever won office without Ohio and my jaw dropped and I swear to you, I got tears in my eyes. I must have looked ridiculous, but honestly, I was THAT moved. Not to mention, I was thrilled that it was so early, still. I don't fare well with late nights these days and was dreading the possibility of a midnight announcement.

And not only did Obama win, he won by a lot. Not just a few electoral votes. But enough that he didn't even need all the swing states to call it. That tells me something. That tells me that America wasn't all that torn afterall. That the American people were more desperate for change and hope then they let on initially and they mobilized in grandiose numbers in the end.

I wrote a few months back that I was a bit dissillusioned with how things were going. And I stand by that- it was a tough election to watch. But last night more then made up for it. I know that not everyone agrees with me. I am fully aware of the many friends who voted conservative- believe me, I've heard from most of them over these past few weeks. (Yeesh, I was the lone Obama supporter in my office... its been a bit tense and a tad degrating at times! Interesting how rude some morally conservative people can be! You wouldn't think that would be the case, but... )

But let me say this, whoever you voted for, I don't even care. Please, don't even tell me, honestly! But thank you for voting. That is what makes me so incredibly proud to be an American this morning. All over the world, and I mean ALL OVER, people are applauding Americans for rocking the vote. For taking their liberty to heart and showing up at the polls, sometimes waiting in inclimate weather and long lines, to make their voices heard. No matter what you marked on your card, you made the decision to educate yourself about change and to let your voice be heard and this is truely incredible.

This is it- what you've all been waiting for...

2008-10-24T09:15:00.002-05:00

Let the educating commence...

2008-10-21T08:31:00.003-05:00

Okay, the day I've been waiting ever so eagerly for is finally here! Baby Hahn's cute little ears are developed enough that it can now hear what's going on outside of the womb. Therefore, I have begun Baby's early musical education. Those of you that have known me and Mike for a while know that music is pretty big for us. Not as big as it used to be, I hate to admit, because since we graduated we are slightly out of the loop... but I'd like to think that we are more tuned in then most. (no pun intended, by the way)

So I began yesterday with Ten Shekel Shirt and then continued on this morning with some old school Dave Matthews Band (Crash album) and then moved onto Brave Saint Saturn (aka Five Iron Frenzie's side project) for the to-work car ride. I explained to Baby that if they wanted, they could play the violin like Boyde Tinsley and I would be totally okay with that. Or any instrument, for that matter... I'm not into forcing creativity.

I am trying to be ecclectic, here... covering all genres. I think on the way home I will be introducing Josh Grobman's "Oceano"- not only is it more classical, but its in Italian, too... ooooh a bilingual baby! Nice.

Never too early to start...

So the question is... any suggestions?

Second Milestone, here...

2008-10-10T13:14:00.000-05:00

While eating my fruit salad at lunch, I totally dribbled juicy watermelon down my front, and to my dismay, it caught up at my belly.

Yes, my belly is now large enough that it is catching food.

I sat there staring at the stain for a full 30 seconds in disbelief. So cliche, isn't it? But apparently this is my life, now. :)

So excited- Twilight official trailer has been released!

2008-10-10T09:43:00.003-05:00

So the count down begins... only a little over a month until "Twlight" hits theaters and the hype is out of control. The final trailer hit youtube this morning at like 5 am and its already broken records. You can watch it on ew.com, or at this link (if it works)...

http://www.twilightthemovie.com/ecard_widget/

Not gonna lie, I probably watched it 4 times already this morning. I am trying to pace myself, but there is just something so exciting about seeing the characters in your head brought to "real" life. And they've done an admirable job casting this movie, too. Really, no complaints here- which, as you all know, is a rare and precious thing. :)

Oh no, here we go...

2008-10-08T09:14:00.003-05:00

So today was a small milestone in my very first pregnancy. It was the first time I've almost peed my pants. For real.

One second, just putzing around on my computer, sloooowly easing myself into my work day, and another, I am doing the waddle-power walk to the bathroom as fast as my poor hunched body can take me. You know which one I am talking about, you've all witnessed this walk in some unsuspecting pregnant woman either in the mall or at church or wherever.

That was me. Its official: The baby has found my bladder. I can just imagine this little punk going "Hmmm... poke poke. Poke. What's this thing? Kick. Kick. Kick." I've felt the kicks on the outside before, but this was a complete bladder assault. And my thermos-full of orange juice that I drank this morning on my way to work almost didn't survive.

Goodness gracious. So anyways, we had a little heart to heart, me and the baby. We discussed that there was a time and a place for these little discoveries, and early morning in the office was not okay.

Mike and I are getting our first look at the little troublemaker at our ultrasound tomorrow, and I have to say at this point, I wouldn't be at all surprised if it favors it's father in looks... its sure seems to have inherited his hyperactive, sometimes overimaginative personality. Too bad its my bladder at stake, and not his.

In repsonse to my favorite overthinker, Cate...

2008-10-06T08:33:00.004-05:00

"I do not get your Saved by the Bell reference. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but why on earth would you want the lying, scheming trickster to be the president. We have plenty of that already. Cause he's the gang's leader, the one with all the ideas? A pretty boy from a wealthy suburb of LA? Right, my kinda guy. Plus, Zach Morris was in high school for 5 years. :)"

Ah yes, Zach was a schemer, but his heart was always in the right place and he got the job done. Whenever Zach screwed up, he owned up to it- which I admire. Not to mention the "graduation speaker" episode, when we realized that it was Zach that actually outscored Jessi on the SATs. A secret genius.

However, that being said, it was just an analogy and yes, you read way too much into it. I would never vote for a high schooler as president of the United States, and you of all people should remember my distaste for pretty boys. :)

Still, if I had to choose, don't you think Zach would be way more appealing of a choice then Belding? Hands down. :)

Getting all political again...

2008-10-03T15:51:00.003-05:00

Am I the only person who doesn't care for the "Joe six pack" title given to the "average" American in the debates?

First of all, my name is Erin, and just because I am middle class doesn't mean that I am unitelligent, so please stop dumbing down your speech to me. Golly gosh darn, if I'm taking the time to watch this debate, I am obviously someone who is attempting to legitimately grasp the politics and views behind the candidates in this election. (Unless you were one of those waiting for "The Office" to click on, and your viewing of the debates was accidental. It could happen.) And what is the whole 6-pack reference, any how? No one thinks this is politically incorrect? I hardley consider the image of a sloppy man drinking cheap beer in middle class bible belt suburbia as indicitive of the general populous. Nor, for that matter, does moose hunting in Alaska after a hockey match really resonate with me, but I'll let that one pass on principal. But "Joe six pack"? Really?

Second of all, to be perfectly frank, I don't want the "average American", no matter how cute they are, running the country. That's why they are the President. They are supposed to be elevated in every aspect of their being in order to run this country to the best of their ability-thus, bringing us up from the muck we've been submitted to the past 8 years. I'm not saying that I expect the elected official to be perfect. That's ignorant and completely unreasonable. I am just saying that I would hope that they would be the best of the best, the cream of the crop, if you will. The validictorian and prom king or queen all in one. You know what I mean?

Put simply, I want Zach Morris. Not Lisa Turtle, not Kelly Kopowski and for heavens sake, not AC Slater! Screech could be VP, I would trust him over Jessi "addicted to speed" Spano any day. But Zach's my man.

Yes, the candidate should be able to relate to the average American. Yes they should look out and sympathize for the average American. But they do not need to be the average American.

In my opinion.

You don't back out on Letterman without consequences...

2008-09-26T09:00:00.003-05:00

Wow, this is really going to sound like I'm picking sides, now... and maybe I kind of am. First, Senator McCain states that he's not planning on participating in the first round of debates this evening because he feels they need to work on the economy (because, really, nothing can get done without him at the helm. Sorry, seems completely insensible in lew of a so far undecided election only 6-ish weeks away) and now this...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XjkCrfylq-E

Let it be known that if you decide to diss Letterman, you run the risk of said diss being exploited all over you tube for all those politically undecided 20 somethings to watch over and over and over....

Whoops. Hope the Katie Couric interview was worth it.

Hilarious and sadly so true...

2008-09-25T15:59:00.003-05:00

"We've got three financial networks on all day. The bottom falls out of the credit market, and they were all running around. On CNBC I saw a guy talking to eight people in [eight different onscreen] boxes, and they were all like, 'I don't know!' It'd be like if Hurricane Ike hit, and you put on the Weather Channel, and they were yelling, 'I don't know what the f--- is going on! I'm getting wet and it's windy and I don't know why and it's making me sad! Maybe the president could come down and put up some sort of windscreen?' "-Jon Stewart, host of The Daily Show, in an interview featuring he and Stephen Colbert about the upcoming election and politics on ew.com.

To celebrate my friend...

2008-09-24T09:16:00.006-05:00

Most of you know, I am crap with remembering birthdays (reading lots of british chic lit at the moment- so say that with an accent, it sounds cooler). Unfortunately, my husband is even worse. I'm not saying that I am turning over a new leaf or anything (THAT would be way too optimistic), but today, I remembered that it is my good friend's birthday. Mike and I both neglected him last year, for which we felt more than terrible about... because his friendship means so much to us! (For the record, I forgot his beautiful wife, Lindsay's birthday, as well... and I remembered their anniversary an entire month after it's actual date.)

Today is my bud Kevin Von Qualen's birthday! We met ages ago when I was first dating Mike and we had to borrow his library card. He wasn't so forth-coming with it... apparently he was able to see right through the cutsey exterior and realized I was a late-fine garnering kind of girl (Which I totally am- I am on black lists with Blockbusters and public libraries in at least two states that I am aware of).

But he passed it over out the kindness of his heart anyhow, and for the first time in my life, I returned the books on time (in case you were wondering). We didn't actually become friends that day- more like a year later when Mike and Kevin became roomates/started their lifelong bromance... but the day still sticks out in my memory.

Kevin is a stand up kind of guy. He's my "slow-walking- I am NOT power walking 14 miles, guys are you kidding me?!" beach buddy (Florida 2002), "laugh-till-you can't stop your face from looking absolutely ridiculous-while watching Super Troopers" buddy, my "they could have stopped making music after 1999, as far as I'm concerned" buddy, and he and his wife have certaintly found a spot in our hearts as our "God knew what He was doing when he made us neighbors" buddies.

And, if you don't already know this by now, he's an incredible photographer (and I am not just saying that because we are on the lifetime-free pics family plan)... I don't know that I have ever plugged his site or blog on my blog before... so here it is.

http://www.kevinvonqualen.com/

Check it out, for real. He's amazingly talented.

Happiest Birthday to you, KVQ!

PS I am fully aware that at this point EVERY single person that I have neglected will want to remind me of this now, so I can do a write up on how much their friendship means to me... as much as I would like to say I am on top of that... its a pipe dream my friends. Just know that I love you all and think of you often (even if it's not on the correct day) and if you forget my bdays for the rest of my life, I will never begrudge you, in all fairness.

Dallas School System on CNN.com

2008-09-18T15:28:00.000-05:00

Check out this video clip...

http://www.cnn.com/video/savp/evp/?loc=dom&vid=/video/us/2008/09/18/lavendera.school.debate.cnn

I'd like to see a follow up done in 10 years with these kids to see if they've made it out of their parent's basements and into the real world yet. Yikes.

Okay, I "yearbooked" myself...

2008-09-17T13:06:00.001-05:00

So I wasn't going to do this, but I am in a bit of an after lunchtime food coma... and my good friend (and LOYAL reader), Cate suggested that I should give this a try. Can you resist? I mean really.

Oddly enough, the "fro" look suits me the best, I think. What would you say?

2008-09-16T12:03:00.002-05:00

Who is this irrationally frantic and easily aggrivated person, and where did my sane, sunny demeanor escape to? I swear this baby has sucked out, not only my brain waves (I tried to put two socks on one foot yesterday much to my husband's amusement), but my pleasing disposition as well.

You hear the horror stories of sobbing, emotionally out of control pregnant women, but this is something else. I don't cry (that much, anyways, not much more then typical at any rate). But I have recently garnered the patience level of a toddler. I spend a large part of my day just plain old IRRITATED. With everyone who DOESN'T matter and who aren't really doing anything wrong (to me, anyways, to the rest of the world at large, I can't say). Like the person hesitating at the stop light at Meijer so I miss my opportunity and have to wait through a whole other round. Or the person who calls and tells me that in HIS opinion I should have to spend the hour and a half on the phone with his insurance company "if I want to get paid", because its not "his responsiblity". Or the poster on babycenter.com who stated that she was going to get through the financial hardships of her pregnancy and birth with governement assistance, and everyone else should quit their jobs and follow suit because who cares that you people are all paying for me to not work and instead try out for american idol while you all struggle to make ends meet doing the right and ethical thing by being responsible members of society?

No wonder my blood pressure is so mugh higher then normal when I have my monthly prenatal visits. I wonder if my doctor would take into account "annoyance" when making his observations.

So what am I going to combat this crazy psychotic episode that I am having? Well, today I started off with putting on a very soft and warm sweater, because it is chilly and I love sweaters. (no good came of it) Then I made myself a hot cup of delicious tea (didn't work). Then I put on a cd of Jim Dale reading Harry Potter. He's British and does all the voices, and its fantastic. (although, it still didn't work) Then I ate some comfy cozy oatmeal. (nothin) I systematically sorted and organized my work for the day. (no dice) I changed my screen background to something autumnish. (still irritated) And, now, after my lunch that wasn't fried at all and therefore not what either me or baby REALLY wanted today (don't onion rings sound good?), I am attempting to listen to some soothing music. A note: last night I put in Yanni for my drive home hoping to curb the road rage, but that Meijer Joker really messed with my zen. Anyhow, we'll see where this gets me. The effect is sort of ruined when I keep having to answer patient phone calls and therefore be brought back to reality.

I really don't like getting so worked up over such menial things. This is a hugely joyful time in my life! I am so incredibly blessed by God that I can't even express all the wonderful things He has done for me...

So why can't I just show it? Why can't I glow and shine and radiate all the gratefulness that I have in my heart? Instead, I just keep (Oh. My. Gosh. I seriously just received a tellemarketing call for dish network! This is insanity!) flaring my nose and taking deep breaths like I am training for battle. A battle to get my sunny personality back...

Good grief.

2008-09-12T15:52:00.003-05:00

Interesting note for you all to think about, and maybe shake your head at... because that is what I find myself doing right this second.

Our "tech guy" at work, who coincidentally works 9:30ish to 2:30ish (with an hour and a half lunch/errand break in between) and manages his ebay business from our office (no lie, he has the items shipped to our address) is actually completely without a clue when it comes to legitimate technological things. Why does he get away with what he is doing? Because he knows how to do some little network thing with our computer system. Something that I suspect isn't even all that complicated. Something that he won't teach anyone else, because he knows darn well that if he does, he'll be fired, because he's ridiculous. Job security, my friends. Job security. Let me give you a few examples of what we are dealing with here:

Actual Scenario #1

Tech Guy: Hey, Erin, can I ask you something?

Me: Yep.

Tech Guy: I wanna heat up my soup in the microwave...

Me: Okay.

Tech Guy: How do I do that?

Me: ...

Actual Scenario #2

Tech Guy: (shouting to office at large) If I want to send a fax, which slot do I put the paper in?

Seriously. This is not an exaggeration. Now, okay, microwaves and fax machines are built differently, you might say. Erin, you say, he may have just been confused by a newer model or whatever. I understand this. Well noted. HOWEVER, he is getting paid (MUCH more then me, I might add) to work these things out. He should be able to, with a teenie bit of effort, and perhaps trial and error, figure out the crazy button pattern needed (and the fact that he needs to first open his soup can and empty it into a microwavable safe bowl) for himself.

And this probably wouldn't frustrate me too much, if not for the fact that everytime I ask him a true computer question, he first asks me if I "checked the power cord and turned the computer on and off?". Because, though I'm not a tech expert by any means, I am somewhat logical. Toss me a frickin bone here, Man.

So, I will leave you with this, readers... as I pack up my things for the weekend. If you decide to try your luck at computer programming or tech repair, read up on your typical office equipment manuals, or else risk the silent wrath and subsequent eye-rolling of your fellow employees.

Jesus taught patience and compassion. Jesus taught patience and compassion. Patience. And. Compassion. (In my defense, there were no such things as computers, microwaves and fax machines in Jesus' time... I know, I KNOW. That shouldn't matter, but it does. A little.)

Pacey's back in "The Fringe"!

2008-09-10T08:26:00.004-05:00

This isn't my official post for this week, but more or less just a little note to mention a new show that I happened to catch last night called "The Fringe". Its a mythological sci-fi set in the not-too-distant future (I believe- I missed the beginning.) by JJ Abrams (of "Lost"), starring amongst other newcomers that I don't recognize just yet, Joshua Jackson. Yes, my fellow giddy Dawson's Creek fans... Pacey Witter is back and he's still as dreamy as ever (except this time he's not seducing his high school teacher- which, I suppose wouldn't matter anyhow, being that he's a legal oldie like you and I by now).

I was only able to catch the last half of the show (long enough to also catch that the former "Jack Deveroux" from Days of Our Lives was also making an appearance- the best Jack Deveroux if you ask me- his replacements were completely lacking- which I mentioned to my husband and he apparently didn't care enough to respond- clearly he was not ever a day-time soap fan), but it was intriguing. A little rough and slow in spots, but definitely worth checking out again. If you like "Lost" or "Heroes" or even the old "X Files" (speaking of which... what on earth is all that David Duchovny being a sex addict gossip all about? I mean, really? A sex addict?! His poor kids- I hope they aren't old enough to read the news. Ew.), this show should be right up your alley. I happen to like these kinds of shows MUCH more then the CSI, NYPD Blue or Law and Order type of fare. Why? Escapism. I don't like real-life scenarios, I can get those on the news. I'd rather stretch my imagination with alternate realities.

So the pilot episode will be making a reappearance on Sunday night- if you are interested in checking it out. I realize I haven't made much of an argument for it- especially if you aren't a Pacey or Jack fan by any stretch of the imagination... but please don't let that deter you. I am just sleepy and not quite able to articulate this morning. However, the episode is sticking with me this morning and I keep hashing over the details, so I know it must have been good. Know what I mean?

That being said, little tidbits from "Lydia's Italy" (a cooking show on PBS where the chef uses copious amounts of butter and salt on everything, so of course its going to be tasty) typically stick with me the next morning too... so who am I to judge?

Just check it out. Sorry this ended up being MUCH less concise and persuasive then I planned. To be frank, I'm not much for concise, though, am I? Which is why I am an aspiring novelist, rather then an aspiring journalist. In my college newspaper days, my editor (Yonika was her name, for real. I love that name. Not enough to name my little popper after her... but enough to still appreciate it after 5 years) always cut out half of my "editorializing". I ask you this, though, how do you write about drag shows, ice fishing and the local bar scene without editorializing? I mean, really.

Enough already. I'm out.

a tad disillusioned over here...

2008-09-04T09:13:00.005-05:00

(The McCain-Palin ticket) "will keep America as it has always been: the hope of the world."

-Mitt Romney

Okay, so last week I avoided getting political. And truely, its not really my style to harp on things in the political arena. This is for several reasons, the most important of which being that I'm not really all that informed. Probably more informed then most, I suppose, but I am by no means some analyst on CNN that is at all qualified to give my educated opinion freely.

That being said (and noted, I hope), this is my blog and I can write about whatever I wish, and this morning I have something to say about the presidential election.

First of all, I am a moderate. This is the most simplified way of stating that my political beliefs are a direct result of my being a Christ follower and a layperson sociologist. For example, when it comes to abortion, I obviously agree with the Right, but when it comes to welfare, I am much more of a Lefty. I, being the true justice and balance-loving Libra that I am, embrace both parties.

This may sound wishy washy to some, but let me assure you, I am anything but. I am VERY opinionated about my issues, just those opinions happen to fall easily on both ends of the spectrum.

The result of this is that at every possible election, I am undecided. I am a free agent. I am one of those unknowns that politicians everywhere are striving to grasp. It is really kind of fun. Sometimes I make good decisions, sometimes not. I'll admit, last presidential election I voted wrong and although I won't say what I did, suffice it to say, I have rededicated myself to pay way more attention this time around.

Okay... enough of that. I followed the DNC last week with a great deal of enthusiasm. I allowed myself to get wrapped up in the historical moment that it was. I was very impressed by the speeches and the promises and all that... of course. That's exactly what is supposed to happen, am I right?

But what most impressed me- what most stuck with me- was that in Obama's speech, he refused to be angry, bitter, or petty. He, on numerous occasions, focused to unity and change. UNITY being key. He refused to trash the republican's patriotism. I thought that was very interesting and very, well, nobel. I realize he has a lack of time in the white house, and that he has actually shown up in people magazine (against his will, however)... blah blah blah, I realize all of this, and I won't try to defend either party at this point. But I wanted to mention that specific speech because last night, I was very saddened by the republicans speeches.

How focused were they on portraying a "tough, more edgy and aggressive" party? How often did they disregard the dems as weak? It just didn't seem very UNIFYING to me, and frankly, after the last 8 years of discord, a little bit of cooperation and respect seems due, don't you think? Perhaps you don't. And that's alright, but that is exactly what I was thinking. I was thinking... "what happened to telling us how you are going make things better? What about a means to an end, here?" Instead, all I heard was a petty one-sided catfight, and I wasn't all that impressed with the lack of solution presented.

Back to my quote at the top... by Mitt Romney. I didn't see his speech. Personally, I wasn't too interested in it... but reading the overview this morning, it caught my eye and stopped my heart. There may have been a point in time when America was the "hope of the world". Definitely that was the case back when my grandparents we alive and young. But recently, in that last decade or so... not so much. Other countries treat America with contempt and incredulity. (Browse BBC.com for a bit, and you will see what I mean) It isn't our citizens so much that aggrivate the rest of the world, as our government. Most of this is deserved, I think. We haven't really been a shining beacon of compassion and power of late.

So reading this statement broke my heart. Because it's just not true anymore. But I want it to be true again, and I don't think I am alone in that. I'm not urging you to vote one way or the other. I, myself, am not completely 100% decided. But there is something to be said for the whole "the family that plays together stays together" ideal. I think it might just have a little merit in the government.

And she's back...

2008-08-26T07:37:00.005-05:00

Wow, can you believe its been THREE WHOLE MONTHS since I blogged last? I couldn't... but I know my mom and Kevin VonQualen can... they've been getting on my case for some time now about posting something- ANYTHING- so here I am back and ready to blog.

What to talk about? There's so much that has happened, not only in the world in general (I will not be discussing the democratic national convention or the Brangina twins, so if you are willing and ready to debate those- find someone else who has more invested in those. I am too shallow for such things), but also in my own little personal bubble. I've decided that I would catch everyone up and give my thoughts on a whole plethera of topics... get ready, this is gonna be a long one.

First of all, I'm expecting. Yes, readers, I am knocked up and am due February 26th. Most all of you know this by now. At least, I sincerely hope that you do... though, I've tried my darndest to keep the news off facebook and myspace until word could be passed via mouth, but I'm not superwoman, and I actually don't have the time to call everyone, personally. And actually, I don't have all that many cell phone minutes. Note: favorite commercial of the summer "I bet my sister would take the milky minutes" "but isn't your sister lactose intolerant?" Just doesn't ever get old.

Anyway... I am nearly 14 weeks along, which places me comfortably (and I mean that pretty literally) in the second trimester. Gone are the days of constant car-sick stomach and falling asleep at my desk. I am now able to eat an entire plateful of food (and then some, truth be told- at least when there is watermelon or tatertots involved-hmmm. I. love. tatertots.) I can stay awake for the evening news, or at least long enough to scratch my husband's belly until he falls asleep- which goes a long way towards making up for months of "please either stop breathing or get out of this bed because I will puke on you".

My only complaint about this wonderful honeymoon period of my pregnancy is that I am currently without wardrobe. I've got cute clothes that are suffacatingly snug around the waist and therefore not at all flattering, and then I've got cute clothes that a bit baggy and optimistic at this point and are therefore also not all that figure flattering. I imagine in a few weeks, though, Baby will take care of the issue, and I'll be whistling a different tune.

What else? Harry Potter number 6's release date has been postponed until next summer, which will officially make me way too old to care by the time number 7 part deux is released in like 2020 or whenever. I'm kind of irritated. I know its all about the benjamins, and money is key... but honestly, how long can they milk this series? The answer? Probably forever, which is super discouraging, because as much as I say I won't care in 5, 10 years- I still will. And let's face it, all other super fans will, too. Ugh.

My new literary love began and wrapped this summer (lucky for me, it wasn't a 5 year long wait that others, including my younger sister, hed to endure). If you haven't heard of Stephenie Meyer and her Twilight Universe, you are either under a rock or just way too cool for those kinds of pop culture things (and I applaud you, for I am way too willing to be sucked in at any point). The story of a immortally brooding handsome vampire and his teenage soulmate will be heading to theaters this fall (in HP's place, thank goodness, I now have something to do that weekend besides mope) and I suggest you all jump on the bandwagon. The series is undoubtably better, as per usual, but I realize that not everyone is willing to give 700 page novels a chance on a whim. Not judging. Meyer is being compared to JK Rowling all over the place, which I don't quite understand... not that she isn't an incredible author, but the books are nothing alike. They have, however, taken a hold of an ENORMOUS fan base all over the world (google "twilight" and you will see what I mean- its insane). And, the author actually lists some pretty fabulous "soundtracks" for her books on her website which I find both charming and addicting. She's got pretty incredible taste in music for a mom of three. It makes me hopeful that Baby Hahn won't suck all the coolness I possess when it makes its arrival. Yeesh.

The olympics. Goodness those were exciting, weren't they? I've got to be honest here, a HUGE part of the appeal for me is that, even though I don't have cable, for two-ish weeks every two years, I get to watch the same thing as everyone else. I feel a part of it all for once. It's a beautiful thing. My quick synopsis: the US gymnasts were shafted, Michael Phelps gives hope to bullied kids on playgrounds everywhere, "Lightening" Bolt was delightful to watch as he breezily jogged his way to world records, and the womens beach volley ball players wear way less clothes then the men's- intentional? I think so. There were other events, like diving (which I can barely watch because I am irrationally afraid that one of them is going to crack their head open on a spring board), equestrian (I don't have cable) and basketball (the "redeem team" seriously? How about its hardly fair that ridiculously over paid, insanely arrogant NBA players get to represent the US, while collegiate athletes that actually love the game stay home?), but I didn't catch all those. You can fill me in on anything that I missed.

Oh yeah, and Jason Lesak is my hero. Take that frenchies. And moving on from my moment of political incorrectness...

... And on to my "bragging right moment of the summer". I. sat. fourth. row. Brad. Paisley. Now some of you are thinking what?! That's awesome! I know it is. (some of you are also thinking "who is that? And to all of you... I stick out my tongue and ask you to skip over this part. Geez.) That's right, kids, Erin and her summer concert marathon partner, Meg, were picked for the "hot girl seats", as her hubbie says. Not because they were hot, (temperature-wise perhaps... I am a walking sauna on a chilly day), for we were sans makeup, mini skirts, halter tops or even hot pink leopard print cowboy hats, rather, just because we were willing to sit on the concrete to watch our friend Brad. And aparently, Brad rewards that kind of loyalty with a couple of VIP section seats. Dear readers, we could see right up his nose and touch him as he danced by us (if we were creepy like that- which we aren't).

It was fabulous.

Well, if you've made it this far, I am flattered and I congratulate you. There's probably more. We had several super fun and beautiful weddings for very close friends this summer... and I watched my husband do interpretive "so you think you can dance" routines at all of them (he could really rival Mia, I think). Team Joshua, by the way... we called that one, didn't we Jenny? I even learned the "superman" at Rachel and Kurt's wedding, which I think qualifies as the most embarassing moment of the summer (not for me, I stumbled through it will glorious rhythmically challenged white girl pride- but for all those that really, truely, purposefully performed that dance. What on earth? And I thought "getting jiggy wit it" was silly!)

I hope to write more soon. I honestly do! Sorry this particular blog is such a mess, but its kind of like getting your voice back after a weeks of larengitus- I just have so much to say! I promise to be more concise and reader-worthy in the future. Please comment! Its been too long!

They finally got it right, and I'm basking the the glow of a David Cook victory.

2008-05-22T09:20:00.004-05:00

Oh-kay.

I know that I am a married, hard (ish) working, responsible 25-year-old. I know that I am a college graduate that listens to NPR and watches the news on PBS each and every night (which by the way is much more balanced and world-event inclusive then the major network versions). I should have more respectible things to do then to get completely, utterly, ridiculously over- involved and way over-invested in a reality tv show.

But David Cook had me from "Hello". I mean, really, I was pretty taken from the first moment I watched his raw "Living on a Prayer" audition, but he won me over heart and soul with his fresh and haunting take on Lionel Richie's cheesy classic. Seriously, download it now. Along with his "Billy Jean" which he so wisely borrowed from well-respected rocker Chris Cornell and his version of "Always be my baby". If a grown man can make Mariah Carey's 90's bubblegum pop hit sound hip and radio-worthy today, he's got the goods to make it.

Not only that, but the man is humble, generous, comfortable on stage and has a back story that gives you chills. He never intended to try out, but instead accompanied his brother as he took a shot at fame. Luckily for us, David was convinced by producers to give it a whirl. His brother never made it through round one, but continued week after week to show his pride and support in his bartender turned superstar sibling. How's that for proof that these guys are genuine? How wonderfully refreshing after being subjected to such moral garbage on TV every night.

And his little co star? Now I have to admit that I actually uttered a "hear hear" in agreement with the cranky pants judge Simon when he stated unabashadly, "For the first time ever in this competition, it makes no difference to me who wins, you are both terrific." And I meant it. Little David won me over in the end with his "aw shucks" demeanor and unfaltering vocal prowess. Even the rumors flying about his scary stage dad weren't enough to turn me off when it was all said and done. How could you not fall for the kid? Even David Cook himself said that he voted only three times this season and each time he voted for Archelleta (once again, the man has class). But I would be lying if I said that I didn't feel that the right man won.

American Idol redeemed itself in my eyes last night, and I think that I am joined by legions of once-bitter Chris Daughtry fans. This season was excellent. A little topsy turvy at times and for sure it had its fair share of controversy (the term I've heard that I most love is "Paulagate"), but the inclusion of musical instruments opened the arena to a whole new brand of true-blue talent, led most assuredly by Mr. Talent, himself, David Cook.

Congrats, sir. Well played. I am very much looking forward to your album.

PS I was listening to the radio this morning and a woman called in to say that she was so excited that David Cook won, that she actually peed her pants. So, I'm not that over the top in my excitement. There is always someone a little bit nuttier.

Befuddled.

2008-05-14T10:04:00.002-05:00

I just spent 10 minutes on the phone with an irrate foreigner who kept missusing the word "paid" rather then "billed" when speaking about the transactions being made between herself, the insurance company and the radiologist office. I think "befuddled" is an appropriate word to use here.

Needless to say, she was being sent to collections and it was all my fault. Interesting how folks don't seem to receive the letter and two statements sent out over the course of the three months prior to the precollections letter, but that collections letter makes it to their mail box without fail every. single. time. Hmm.

my porch...

2008-05-14T08:55:00.004-05:00

This is how I spent every blissfull morning while in Florida, reading and writing in a hamock on our screened porch... I think heaven must be like this.

Juno

2008-04-21T09:34:00.002-05:00

Everyone should see this movie. Very sweet, poignant and intelligent. Plus, I heart Micahel Cera. He's made gawky and akward an art form.

The view is pretty sweet from my soap box...

2008-04-21T08:19:00.002-05:00

I've gone back and forth about responding to a comment that was made on my "book club pic" blog... hemmed and hawed (Is that even how you spell "hawed"?), opened my blog spot account, closed it again, clicked open the comments, minimized them again...

But I have to respond. Because there aren't all that many things in life that push my very passive and typically neutral (call me Switzerland!) buttons, but judgement against the so-called "chic lit" genre is one of them. (Along with the general lack of common curtesy today, Randy Jackson's lame critiques on American Idol, and when anyone tries to pick a fight with my little sister.)

I guess my defense is not against criticism of the genre itself, more against the perception that those who read that genre are flighty and even shallow. I mean, I've poked fun at my "shallow" literary interests in the past, but am just now realizing that perhaps I've been taken more seriously then I intended.

There is something sweet and undeniably optimistic about this genre. It is relatable. It's a cathartic for the typical harassed and disillusioned 20-something female. She works in a mundane office job, paying off her stupidly high student loans, wears ann taylor loft suits and uncomfortable high heels and gets tipsy off a second margarita. Sometimes she's happily married, other times she single and waiting. In the versions I tend to read, she's a Christ follower.

But she's also crazy smart. She's reading isn't she? She's not watching "Sex and City" marathons (not that there's anything wrong with that), or surfing facebook every waking minute. She's reading. She's using her imagination and she's expanding her mind.

In my defense, I've read other books. Lots of them. Bronte, Karoac, Chaucer, Shakespear, Hemmingway, Steinbach, Twain, JR Tolkien, CS Lewis and every Austen at least three or four times through. I've read Harry Potter so many times that I can quote it to the annoyance of all my friends and family. I've read Oates, Picoult, Cornwell, King, Crighton, Wells, Higgens Clark, Sparks and Clancy.

But I've also read Siri Mitchell. And Sophie Kinsella, Lori Wick, Meg Cabot, Susan May Warren, Emily Giffin, Janette Oke, Deanne Gist, Jennifer Weiner and Dee Henderson. And some of them have pink on the covers, but some don't.

I went through a period where all I read was gore and murder mysteries (now I can barely stomach the thought, but there you have it. It was also during this time that I wanted to be a Crime scene investigator, and for the record, it was before it become trendy to be so.) I went through a period where all I read were historical prarie romances. Then I became crazy for the classics for a few years. Until I made my attempt at "War and Peace". That killed it for me. And if that makes me shallow, so be it.

Now I like it all.

But I love love LOVE chic lit. And I realize that some chic lit is better then others. Some is, shall we say, more meaty. And THAT is why I've started my "book club" because I've read so much that I am able to weed out some authors that are better then others.

To be a writer, you must read everything. And that means everything. Even hunting magazines and political biographies. And I do. So thank you "anonymous" for your suggestion. I am sorry that I wasn't more clear on my interests. I appreciate your comment, because it made me think. It caused me to become more accountable as I am preparing to make my own attempts at the literary world. But just so you know, I am aware that there is more then just chic lit out there. :)

Okay, I'm jumping off the box, now.

How I envied Angela Chase...

2008-04-17T13:42:00.003-05:00

I am positive that I am the last person on the planet (besides my mom, who frankly, doesn't care) to realize that the luscious scorn of my sweet 13-year-old heart, Jared Leto (aka Jordan "ah those eyes-those eyes!" Catalano from "My So Called Life") is the front man for the fairly popular and well-known alternative rock band, "30 Seconds to Mars".

Seriously, have I been living under a rock or what?

Suddenly I find myself becoming a TSTM fanatic...

My version of the serenity prayer...

2008-04-16T13:25:00.003-05:00

What is that darn "serenity prayer"? How does that go?

God grant me the patience to politely deal with people who insist that I am the ignorant one, and that they know better then me. Forget that this is my job and I do this every. single. day. of my life. The patient is always right.

Even if they really aren't this time. At all. Not even close.

Ugh. Count to ten. Take a deep breath. Find a happy field in the recesses of your mind...

Okay. I'm good. Back to work.

Erin's Book Club pic :)

2008-04-10T14:11:00.003-05:00

So I was talking with my dear friend and former roomate of 4 years, Katie Willett, and came across the idea of a sort of "Erin's Book Club", where I would post an entry every now and again of an author that I would recommend. I've done this a few times in the past anyways, but thought I'd make it official.

I solemly swear that this will not be nearly as high-pressured, nor, perhaps, as intriguing as Oprah's high-grossing version, but it will also not be as wacko. Which I think some will appreciate.

For the record, I read roughly 3-4 novels a week and they are typically good-girl romantic in nature, though every so often I'll pick up a heavy duty big girl read. It isn't that I can't read the intense New York Times Best Selling-literary-classic-type works, its just that I generally prefer not to. Perhaps that portrays me as shallow... but I'm jut being honest. If a more serious novel has been recommended to me 3 times, no more, no less, then I will read it. Rest assured, I know when to give in.

I read a little differently then most. As a writer with hopes of making it onto a bookshelf one day, I am very focused on content and details. I read, then reread, and then read once or twice more for good measure. I study character conversation tecniques, chapter beginnings and endings, spiritual content, worldy content, legalism, the "gasp" factor, and finally, how much the story and its characters stick with me after the fact.

Okay, so that is me.

My first author that I am going to feature is Siri Mitchell. She writes chic lit, mostly, but a more heavy and focused sort. The characters are rich, and well thought out. I appreciate the sense of realism that she injects into her characters spiritual struggle. As an author, she is well traveled, so she is able to introduce cultures and languages into her writing that take the reader to another location and lifestyle. I applaud that, being that I can barely afford to travel out of my neighborhood.

I also love that Siri fights against the more legalistic christian views in her novels. She's not afraid to call out the conservative christian culture on not "living like Jesus". I like that. She's got gumption, that one. She also doesn't shy away from creating non-believing characters, and she's certaintly not afraid to chastise the full-fledged believers when they get their noses up in the air. A girl after my own heart. Its obvious that she is down to earth and very willing to admit her own faults... which , I believe, creates some pretty poignant moments in a story.

Siri is also pretty hilarious. She is one of the few authors that have gotten me to laugh out loud while reading. In, "The Cubicle Next Door", there is a scene with the heroine's grandmother and her elderly friends, in which they are assisting her as she attempts to get ready for a military ball. It is wonderfully over the top and I actually chuckled. Yes, Chuckled.

Then there is something that I like to call the "gasp" factor. Siri has this in her novels. I'm talking about the moment in a sweetly romantic story when something happens between the two main characters that actually enduces a gasp out of the reader. I give Siri a 9.5 out of 10 in the gasp department. And 11 out of 10 for the aforementioned novel. Which is something I NEVER give out. Months after the fact, I'm still gasping in shock!

Okay... so I've read and can personally vouch for "Kissing Adrien" (made me want to go to France soooo bad!), "The Cubicle Next Door" (my fav, I think) and "Chateau of Echos" (great historical parallel that created two love stories in one). There are a couple of others that I've yet to read that I would assume are just as worthy reads. She's coming out with a historical fiction later this year that I am really looking forward to.

I would love to hear input if any of you ever pick her up... so please keep me posted!

Nearly there...

2008-04-10T13:57:00.001-05:00

In 28 days and counting, I will be reuniting with my NMU college girls on this very beach in Amelia Island, Florida! I. Can. Not. Wait. :)

At the end of the day, I don't want to be a wimp.

2008-04-08T08:40:00.004-05:00

"Running is a big question mark that's there each and every day. It asks you if you are going to be a wimp or are you going to be strong today?"

"the best years of our lives"

2008-04-07T14:59:00.003-05:00

So my 10 year high school reunion is coming up. In two years. For some reason all the hooplah is starting 2 years in advance. As if my classmates have scattered across remote continents and are without facebook, myspace and email, with which we can hunt them down within seconds. So we need to begin the furtive searching now! Anyways, I'm not complaining, really. Just curious at the "McHenry West Campus Class of 2000 UNITE" Movement that's in full swing.

At any rate, with the aforementioned movement comes two startling realizations. 1. I missed my grade school 10 year reunion. We all did, I think. I mean... I still keep in touch with one and a half of my gradeschool classmates and I have yet to hear an announcement. And then,

2. That I'm so not ready for this.

It isn't that I didn't like high school. I mean, I didn't really, but that's besides the point. Its more that I've never been able to completely outrun that akward and insecure 16-year-old that felt like she was creeping crawling in her own skin. I wasn't an outcast in high school by any means. I fit in just fine. I wasn't "hot", but rather, cute enough to garner a small amount of attention from the hormone-engaged opposit sex. I wasn't athletic, but aside from PE, that really never mattered. I wasn't wealthy or popular, but I had a great weekend job and was best friends with half of the homecoming court AND the prom queen, so I knew my way around the social circles. The "goody-goody" circles, at any rate. I mean, my parents are both in law enforcement, so anything else wasn't likely to work out, was it?

I really don't know what it is. Honestly, I don't! I went away to college, where I found Jesus and a husband that I adore (along with a completely pointless degree in sociology). I'm comfortable- confident even- in large groups of people. I can strike up a conversation with a stranger without downing a cocktail first. I can run three miles without stopping, bake a mean chocolate chip cookie and style my own hair without frizz (a pretty huge accomplishment, in the end). And I know this will sound silly to most of you, but I can actually type without looking at the keys. Do you know how long that has taken me to accomplish?! Its been life-altering. Really.

But I've finally given in and joined a "class reunion" page and in skimming through the various faces and in some cases, webpages, of my old clasmates, I feel my stomach knot up in a self-betraying bundle of nerves! Within seconds I've reverted to the insecure and jittery braces-laden sophomore that I once was. Frankly, its downright infuriating. After all I've accomplished, this is as far as I've managed?

I think it comes down to my inconveniently sharp memory. You know those surveys that ask "if you could go back to high school right now, would you?" My answer is always a resounding "heck no", but even more then that, its "What's the point, it's still way fresh in my mind." I also think that I've never really been comfortable with Hurt. And lets face it, high schoolers are cruel. Not all, but some. And I witnessed enough hurt and rejection during those four years to recognize that I don't ever need to go back.

I remember with vivid detail walking down the hallway hand in sweaty hand with my for-the-moment-boyfriend and watching a couple of thugs from the wrestling team pin a small, likely homosexual boy to the lockers. After making certain they had a worthy audience, they began noisily humping him. That small boy's face, flashed with anger and humiliation is forever seered into my memory.

I can still smell the PE locker room and can practically hear the murmor of biting gossip. I can still remember comparing myself to every other girl in there, and finding myself lacking.

I remember when I dressed like a "slut" for an experimental school project and I garnered more male attention then I ever had in my life- and liked it. A little. I mean, one of the most popular guys looked my up and down and actually said "you look like a whore.... That's awesome." (huge thumbs up for me) Later that day I was told that I was one of two girls nominated at the "poster girls for absitnence", since we were the girls everyone wanted to sleep with but wouldn't give it up. Nice, huh? I took that as a compliment, too. At the time. Now it haunts me for some stupid reason. Was I a tease? or a prude? or worse, both?

And today, in light of recent events, I remember the occassional Monday morning announcements that came equipped with the typical request for a "moment of silence" for a classmate that had died over the weekend. Sometimes it was a car accident, other times it was a drug overdose. A few times it was suicide.

Yeah, high school was tough. And I realize that I am way more emotional and sensitive than I ought to be. Totally aware of it. And you'll probably read this and say, "wow. seriously. get over it." And to be perfectly honest, I am. When it comes down to it, high school really doesn't creep into my thoughts very often, its just that when it does, it's kind of vicious. Perhaps it is just all this reunion talk...

I'm just saying that I'm not all that sure that I am ready to revisit. Maybe that is why they are giving me two years of advanced notice.

Just A Little Side Note: We have a small group of high school kids over to our place every Thursday night for a bible study/youth group type of deal. Last week, we talked about making decisions. One of the questions that came up was "What is the hardest thing about high school". You know what the kids said? "Homework, teachers, parents" You know that the leader said? "Insecurity, peer pressure, trying to fit in".

Interesting, isn't it. When you are amongst the fray, you think nothing of the peer pressure and issues with self image, but once you are well out of it, and you finally become the person you are meant to be, it becomes so obvious what held you back all those years before!

Get my new shoes on and suddenly everything's right...

2008-04-03T15:03:00.003-05:00

I just had this day dream while listening to my new favorite, Paolo Nutini. There is this line in the song "New Shoes" that goes...

Woke up late one Thursday
And I'm seeing stars as I'm rubbing my eyes
And I felt like there were two days missing
As I focused on the time
And I made my way to the kitchen
But I had to stop from the shock of what I found
A room full of all off my friends dancing round and round
And I thought hello new shoes
Bye bye them blues

How wonderful would that be? What if I fell asleep tonight, maybe even like right when I get home... too tired to clean the house, "just gonna lay down for a quick nap", kind of thing... and slept through until tomorrow night! Mike would just shake his head and smile, saying to himself (since I wouldn't wake up to his voice), "wow, she must have been really tired... I'll just clean the house and take care of everything as a nice surprise for her to wake up to." And then he'll call my boss "Yeah, I don't know, she must have been really tired, poor thing, so I'm just gonna let her sleep." And it will be that kind of crazy comfortable sleep that you imagine the people from the lunesta commercials are getting...

And then I just wake up and its Friday night! And there can be people dancing in my kitchen, that would be okay. And new shoes would be even better. The icing on the cake. I've been browsing for new running shoes online in my spare moments. Asics (to combat my peronating stride). Size 8.5. In case you were interested.

So I know the whole scenario is a teenie bit of a stretch, but its not a secret that I have an overactive imagination... and I've been ready for the weekend since Monday afternoon. Not to mention I've had Loverboys "Everybody's working for the weekend" song in my head all week. Ew. If that isn't torture...

Why everyone should watch "How I Met Your Mother"

2008-03-25T14:05:00.003-05:00

Those who are familiar with me, know that I am not really a tv-watcher by nature. To me, an avid reader, time spent in front of the television screen seems a waste of perfectly good creativity and imagination.

That being said, occassionally I get caught up in a TV program... either intentionally (as in I read about it on ew.com and can't resist checking it out for myself) or accidentally (as in, I happen upon it on my night off and get hooked in).

Monday nights are a free night for my husband and I. There's no small group, or youth group or American Idol (aside: during American Idol season, the show actually becomes more like an activity... like riding a bike or taking a walk... its MORE then just a tv program). We've actually been at a bit of a loss as to what to do with ourselves on Monday nights. This is how I discovered "How I Met Your Mother" on CBS. Its on at 7:30 central time, after some weird nerd show and before "Two and a Half Men" (which I hate- sorry for those who rave about it, but Charlie hit his prime for me in Major League and has never really recovered his position at the top).

"How I Met Your Mother" has the premise of working backwords. The narrator is Ted, 25 years from now. So he's telling his kids the story of how he and their mother met. Which I suppose you can get from the title, but whatev. Each week you get closer and closer to the revealing of the future "Mrs. Ted" and clues are constantly thrown your way... causing those with T-Vos and DVRs (honestly, this is the first time I've ever wished that I had one!) to constantly review each episode searching for accidental/not so accidental meetings with all sorts of women. Its such a great concept. I just spent my lunch (half) hour lurking on message boards filled with postings from people all over the planet completely over-analizing every detail. For example, the last episode (preBritany) ended with the narrator stating that "your mother was at the same st patricks day party, but luckily, we never met that night... " And he loses his phone but picks up a yellow umbrella....

Will she return his phone? Will they meet randomly and one day she sees that yellow umbrella in his foyer and is like, "oh, I've been looking for that..."?????

The possibilities are endless. Anyhow, now that I am officially hooked, I have read online that this show is in danger of being cut off... hopefully the guest starring of Britany Spears and Sarah Chalke (Scrubs) will have gotten lots of attention, because I plan on seeing this one through!

So... if you've nothing better to do on a Monday night, allow me to make a recommendation. The characters are hilarious and cute, the story line- intriguing, and its only a light hearted half hour... which is rare and precious in these days of hour long scary psychopath dramas.

What you don't know about me...

2008-03-24T13:06:00.002-05:00

I've been working in the customer service industry for several years now. I worked as a waitress for two years, as a rec supervisor for 2 years, a sales person and manager at a health club for two years and most recently I work in medical billing.

I've dealt with lots of people in various degrees of anger and frustration and usually am pretty capable in terms of coming to a "mutually satifactory resolution" (seriously, that is what it is called, I've gone to workshops and conferences and the like). Its what I do. Its what I am paid for. And I like it. I really do.

But I have to say something, and since my blog is entitled "Anything worth saying"... here it goes. I understand what it is like to be on the other end of the phone. I know that feeling that you are being ill-used and taken advantage of. I can sympathize with the frustration of being at a stranger's mercy. I get that. I've been there.

Something that I have come to practice in my own life is this, however. I try my hardest to remember to give the service person on the phone the benefit of the doubt.

I spoke with Sheila today. Shelia was angry. Livid, actually. And she didn't care who I was, or what part I personally played in her current distress. To her, I was public enemy number one. She screamed at me so that I had to hold the phone away, questioned my character and threatened to call the police on me (which, since I have had the pleasure of growing up the daughter of a police sergeant, I inworldy giggled at that particular threat). She made me feel less then human. Less then subhuman, even. As she verbally spat in my face, I found myself riling up in anger- my hackles raising. Hot tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and my hands shook uncontrollably. My heart pounded in my ears and I could feel my face burn. Here I am sitting at my desk- Harry Potter calendar on the wall, a cute little kitten picture with a bible verse from my fav gospel, Matt taped to my computer screen, pigtails in my hair and tennis shoes on- teetering precariously on the verge of losing it.

She doesn't know me. She might think she does... but she doesn't. She doesn't know that my husband just called to ask me to babysit for his friend's two little boys in a few weekends (and how I can not wait). She doesn't know that my best friend just emailed me a picture from vegas of the fountains at bellagio because I asked for it (due to my love of oceans 11 and brad pitt). She has no idea that my mom and I spent the afternoon yesterday getting all teared up over the lack of true love in jane austen's short life. she doesn't know that after work today I plan to take my dog on a 3 mile run, something that has recently become a favorite pasttime of mine (and his). She doesn't know that I spend every Thursday night opening my home to highschoolers and that I get as much a kick out of having them over as they do in coming over. She doesn't know that every morning before I work I check a miscarriage support posting that I participate in. She doesn't know that just this morning I received an email update for my "congrats you're now 26 weeks pregnant" calendar from ivillage that I can't figure out how to turn off since I lost my baby.

Nope. She knows none of this. She only knows that she was angry and it was my fault. She didn't want to hear reason. She didn't want to "please stop shouting at me". She just wanted my supervisor, and I gave her to them. Actually, the joke was on her, my supervisor is out of the office today, and since I fugured she wouldn't believe that line, I gave her to one of my coworkers who pretended to be a supervisor for me. A tiny consolation for me, at least.

No, Shelia knows nothing of the "Erin" she spoke to on the phone, and that's okay. In fact, in light of her crazy anger, I probably prefer it that way. However, what if she had taken just a moment to consider who she might be talking to? Asked herself what I might have been going through? Would she have treated me the same way as she did? Maybe. But I'd like to think not.

What if every phone was a video phone? Or like a mood ring phone? Like you pick it up to call someone and the phone could read their current mood... "sad" "deafeated" "hopeless" "thrilled" "ambitious" "hurt". Would that change the way we spoke to strangers.?

I think that I am going to say a quick prayer for Shelia today. And maybe a slightly longer one for whomever she was calling next... I think that they might need it.

the original three

2008-03-20T12:57:00.004-05:00

How cute are we? This is now almost 3 years old! I can't believe its been that long! I've always called this my picture of the "original 3". Me, Kyle and Cassie. Step siblings and half siblings, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands and the like have been added to the family over the years, but no one could ever take the place of the original three. :) Kyle was my hero on my wedding day, walking me down the isle, and Cass did me the honor of standing up as my bridesmaid. When it came time to join my life with someone else, it was all the more sweet having them behind me when I did it.

my little idea for a so called "better tomorrow"

2008-03-06T08:07:00.003-06:00

I think that it should become a government sanctioned rule that everyone should have to wear uniforms. To work, to school, to the mall. Actually, I suppose that if the wearing of uniforms were enforced, malls would become kind of not necessary. Wouldn't they?

Anyhow, the reason I bring it up is that I truely hate clothes. Don't misunderstand me, I feel they are absolutely necessary... You won't see me lobbying for mandatory nudest colonies or anything crazy like that. But I absolutely abhor picking out clothes each and every morning. I am pretty sure that the only time that I feel like I really look good is when I am wearing something brand spankin new, and that is just not economically feasible. There is something about wearing a new outfit that makes you feel like a million bucks.

No wonder celebs are constantly shopping. Every time you see a paparazzi shot taken in hollywood or new york, the celeb in question is caught bustling in or out of some fancy shmancy overpriced boutique with a skim latte in hand... an exorbitant credit line at the ready! It makes perfect sense to me! The reason why they all look completely at ease and confident in their own skin is their new clothes!

Well, a constant supply of new and fashionable clothing is, as previously stated, not economic. Therefore, I nominate uniforms. I don't know what they should look like, maybe there should be some reality tv fashion show contest where aspiring designers could create something comfortable, practical and of course flattering.

Think about it, gang warfare would drop drastically. Okay, perhaps not. They would still have all those hand gestures and banadanas and what not to go off of.

Alright. So nothing drastic and state-of-the-world-altering would happen if we instated uniformality. And really, the whole idea is pretty reminiscent of a socialist dictatorship. Right, I know. I get it. But I, for one, would approve heartily.

From another perspective

2008-03-05T09:51:00.002-06:00

I am currently reading a book that came highly recommended through several friends named "The Glass Castle" by Jeanette Walls. It is an intriguing memoir of the author's bizzaar and completely facinating childhood. At least, that is what it is so far... I've only made it about half way through.

I won't give anything away, but I will pass on my recommendation to anyone and everyone. This book is fantastic. The author's parents, and most especially her creative, imaginative, alcoholic father, bring to mind the lyric "some of the most intersting people didn't, at 22, know what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40 year olds still don't." As interesting as her childhood may have been, there were certaintly elements of the traumatic throughout, though the author doesn't exactly present it that way. Her tone is quite matter of fact, actually. She opens the book at the age of three when she accidentally caught herself on fire while cooking hotdogs for dinner for her family. She spent over 6 weeks in the hospital covered with severe burns. She talks about it being the first time she tasted chewing gum.

It causes me to wonder. I mean, it's really all a matter of perception, isn't it? Did you ever have one of those moments when you are reliving a story to someone and they look at you completely agog- like they can't comprehend how you emotionally survived to tell the tale? Like "I can't even believe that you are telling me like this- aren't you upset by this? I am!" And you just shrug, and think to yourself, well it wasn't THAT big of a deal. I lived it, so obviously I'd know.

This, of course, has happened to me, and one time in particular is sticking out in my memory very vividly. My Christmas break, sophomore year of college, I was sitting around catching up with a group of my old high school friends. We were reliving traumatic high school memories (very emo, you could say) when someone said that they had once contemplated suicide- they had had difficulty coping with the pressure of unobtainable scholastic ecpectations. They asked if anyone else ever had. I shrugged and told them the story of a time in my life, when at 16, I slipped into a severe depression and after a boyfriend dumped me (the last straw) I flipped out while putting away dishes in the dishwasher one afternoon after school, and I held a super dull and completely impractical butter knife up to my wrists. Hands shaking and heart racing, I thought to myself that "this would show them all that I wasn't just this cute little floor mat that they could walk all over- that this would make them feel bad for all they had put me through". Pretty dark stuff, for someone who listened to the Dixie Chicks and took ballet, but it just goes to show... you just never can tell. And everyone, I mean everyone, has a breaking point. Anyway, I didn't cut, not even close (I mean, really, a butter knife? How far would I have gotten?), but the thought crossed my mind, as I had assumed it crossed everyone's mind at one time or another in their lives.

But apparently I was mistaken. Apparently not everyone has felt that desperation. I got over it. I found the completely soul-filling love of Jesus and I have never ever felt that way since then. And now, being so far removed from that point in my life, I can speak of it like it was nothing. Because it really was nothing.

But to others, I think it might be something. To some, maybe those who've never allowed themselves to fully appreciate and experience the trauma that life can often hurl at you (and therefore haven't been able to experience the thrill of "survival"), to those people, I suppose a heartbroken teenager's experience with a butterknife might seem harsh.

To me, it was an awakening. And I suppose a tad on the comically ridiculous side.

Just like, to Jeanette Walls, it was just her childhood, and the first time she tried chewing gum.

Interesting, huh? Okay, one more reference, this time from Harry Potter. I know, I know... how many more HP references can she possibly have up her sleeve? Folks, my mind is a steel trap of all things JK Rowling.

In the final book, Ron Weasley, Harry's BFF, saves Harry's life. And kills one of Voldemort's horcrux and overcomes his greatest fear all in one moment to basically "save the day, perhaps the world"... and Harry congratuates him and compliments him for all that he just accomplished and Ron's response was "That makes me sound a lot cooler then I was." and Harry's response was something like "I've been trying to say that for years."

Things always seem more intersting, impressive, traumatic, heroic, heartbreaking... when it happens to someone else. Don't they?

Something to ponder a bit...

2008-02-12T13:25:00.000-06:00

Heard this quote and loved it...

"A hero isn't more brave than anyone else, they are just brave for five minutes longer."

JK Rowling said it in an interview, but I am pretty sure that it came from someone else.

Looks like I changed my attitude about winter just in time!

2008-02-07T08:43:00.000-06:00

This is taken from the local newspaper, The Northwest Herald... it is of some 15 year old girl shoveling her driveway.

This was how I spent yesterday morning! :) I'm pretty achy today... but it is a good achy. I love snow.

Okay, I give in. I like winter.

2008-01-31T08:59:00.000-06:00

I've decided that I have had a poor attitude about the winter season. Rather then enjoying it for what it is, and recognizing God's blessings in it, I have been merely surviving winter. I have this mind set of "just make it through the next few months, weeks and days and then it will be glorious spring!". Which is pretty typical, I think. Most people, especially in this area of the country have this sort of reasoning.

But no longer will I be this way. When I lived in the UP, winter stretched its icy grip from October until May. Literally. And I really loved it! I know that may sound insane, but I completely embraced the frigid temperatures and snowy landscapes.

I think that the difference was the general outlook of the population about the outside conditions. The meteorologists gave the weather report with the same enthusiasm and gusto as they would in mid July, rather then starting off each broadcast as though they are giving the uligy at their best friends funeral. The kids dutifully piled on the layers and had snowball fights at their bus stops, instead of praying every night for a snow day. The weekends were spent skiing, sledding, ice fishing or at hockey tournements and when the weather was cold, everyone was thrilled to take advantage of their piping hot saunas.

Even for someone like me, who can hardly be called an outdoors enthusiast (unless you count sunbathing, which my husband, one of those true outdoorsy types, doesn't), curling up with my knitting needles and a good chic flic was the ultimate weekend pasttime.

The point is, God doesn't make mistakes and He certaintly doesn't subscribe to the idea of purgatory. So winter was never meant to be just suffered through. It isn't just a temporary lull before the "real" seasons begin.

It is a gift. A time to love and embrace and eat rich foods, and watch entire seasons of Felicity while drinking hot chocolate (made with 4 scoops, not just three and complete with a layer of mini marshmellows), and to watch your puppy skip around the back yard with a small pile of snow on his nose and to wear baggy figure-hiding sweaters and chunky knit scarves.

So what if you have to start your car twenty minutes before you are supposed to leave... its kind of refreshing, isn't it? I mean, to hop into a toasty, well-oiled auto first thing in the morning? And whats the big deal about wearing boots and mittens? I LOVE mittens, personally. They are so comfy cozy and they really ignite my inner five year old (not that that take much work). And I'd rather a pair of ugly boots over pointy high heels any day! And who cares if the sidewalks are a tad slippery? Some of the absolute most hilarious moments in life happen on slick walk ways... ask my old roomate, Katie. I still snicker to myself obnoxiously when I think of her face plant outside the LRC back in 2004.

The point is: I like winter, now.

How rude.

2008-01-24T14:07:00.001-06:00

I just don't understand what is going on in the world today. What has happened to manners? Where has the respect for our fellow man disapeared off to?

This afternoon at work, I was manning the office phones while everyone else ate lunch. This is for two reasons, 1. I tend to get hungry a good hour earlier then everyone else and 2. they all order out lunch and I, being the poverty-stricken kind of newlywed that I am, brown bag it every day. I don't mind answering the phones, usually, but I do wish that it didn't seem that everyone just counted on me to sit by myself and answer the phones while they enjoyed their takeout. Not to mention, their lunches seem to be getting longer and longer every day(something of which I am slightly embarassed to admit to you that I have been tracking)...

Anyhow, that's neither here nor there and completely not the point of this blog entry...

Back to my irritation with the general lack of politeness in modern day society. I recieved a phone call from a gentleman who wished to make a payment on his account. Fine. I asked for his credit card information and as I was writing it down, I couldn't help but notice that his voice was getting more and more muffled. Then I heard the unmistakeable sound of trickling water. I tried to ignore the sound... I mean, for all I knew, he was walking past a water fountain or something. Then the sound got louder... o-kay. Perhaps a waterfall, instead. Maybe he's calling me from Niagra Falls!

Then the flush came.

Ugh, I feel dirty just thinking about it. A man, as a matter of speaking, "took me to the bathroom" with him! I mean, really! Was he truely that busy? Can you honestly tell me that he was that focused on multi tasking?

How rude.

Slurping

2008-01-18T14:52:00.000-06:00

I think that everyone should introduce the practice of slurping their drinks into their everyday lives. My husband taught me this, and I think that he originally started doing this for the very logical purpose of cooling his ultra steaming hot coffee before it burned his tongue. Early on in our marriage, this practice irritated me beyond belief. That along with his prefacing every sentance to me with "Uh, just so you know..." and his habit of hanging up my wet towel if it sat on the bad for more then 2.5 seconds after I got dressed. Anyhow, with the passing of time, the habit of slurping has somehow endeared itself to me. I would even go so far as to say that I have wholly embraced it. In fact, as I journal this epiphany, I am doing so in between healthy slurps of cold water.

So I just realized that I have started to do it, and much to my chargrin, along with that realization, came another. I really love to slurp. I find it uterly gratifying and I sincerely feel that it adds to my overall enjoyment of a drink. Not to mention, it brings a little satisfaction when I consider that my little slurps might be found slightly irritating to my kitty corner cubicle friend. And when I say friend, I am completley exaggerating, because she basically hates my guts for no reason. Except, now that I think of it, maybe my slurping is the reason behind her contempt.

Hmmm. Something to consider.

Learning to let go...

2008-01-17T14:56:00.000-06:00

I've been doing a lot of over-the-top, way pensive, deep, soul searching type thinking lately, for a number of serious reasons, which I'm not quite ready to discuss just yet. In fact, I may not ever be fully ready and willing to write about any of it, but I have instead settled on sharing something that has really touched me...

"Surrender" by Barlow Girl

My hands hold softly to my dreams
Clutching tightly not one has fallen
So many years I've shaped each one
Reflecting my heart showing who I am
Now you're asking me to show
What I'm holding oh so tightly
Can't open my hands can't let go
Does it matter?
Should I show you?
Can't you let me go?

Surrender, surrender you whisper gently
You say I will be free
I know but can't you see?
My dreams are me. My dreams are me.

You say you have a plan for me
And that you want the best for my life
Told me the world had yet to see
What you can do with one
That's committed to Your calling
I know of course what I should do
That I can't hold these dreams forever
If I give them now to You
Will You take them away forever?
Or can I dream again?

Another shot curtesy of Kevin VonQualen...

2007-12-12T12:34:00.000-06:00

Here it is, Mom.

2007-12-12T11:46:00.000-06:00

Okay okay okay... sorry for the delay. I've been catching grief over the lengthy suspense since my last entry (mostly from my mom) so here it goes.

We got the TV.

After bundling up in about 12 thick layers of Carharts, snow pants and polyproplane long john underwear (obviously not in that order) and packing enough chairs-in-a-bag to keep any proud soccer mom happy, we made our way to the already growing line at Circuit City around 10 pm on Thanksgiving.

We introduced ourselves to our "neighbors", a seasoned family huddled in their ice shanty and a seriously underprepared woman who packed only a bears fleece to protect her from the bitter 20 degree chill (of course, of course, it was the coldest night of 2007 thus far). We are 23rd in line. Then we pulled out the DVD player we borrowed from my mother in law, along with the longest, most captivating movies in our arsenal (Lord of the Rings trilogy, of course) and settled down into our sleeping bags. Just like camping. Except it was really really cold. And uncomfortable. And there weren't any marshmallows for roasting.

11:30 pm Due to previously discussed bitter cold, DVD player dies. We got through about an hours or so of LOTR

12:30 am I ran home for bathroom break

1:00 am I return with hot chocolate mix and boiling water in a thermos and chex mix

1:02 am Mike gets tangled up in his sleeping bag and consequently knocks over the thermos, causing it to shatter- boiling hot water pouring copiously over the sidewalk. Hot chocolate is ruined.

1:03 am-2:59 am Sleeping. Kind of. And shivering. Line behind us builds to about 100-125 people.

3:00 am Circuit City employees arrive on the scene. "China Man" (Not my name for him.... just a nickname the endearing crowd came up with) makes the fateful announcement that line is forming in the wrong direction, and according to fire safety or some other rubbish, everyone must move.

3:01 am China Man realizes his mistake as over 100 people run to cut in line. Those "all nighters", settled warmly into shanties, sleeping bags and folding chairs, some around mini fires, stare dumbfounded at China Man.

3:02 am Mike started swearing and yelling at China Man. Erin advises him to quit yelling and get in line.

3:05 am Erin, lugging all their crap, some how finds Mike in crazy swarm of people. We are now 100th in line.

3:06 am Erin lugs crap out to car... since China Man stated "fire safety". Angry customers start carrying on and threaten a riot. They advise police protection.

3:10 am Police show up. High schoolers that cheated everyone and ran to front of line start getting rowdy and obnoxious... which really endears them to the rest of the line.

3:30 am China Man makes another announcement that anyone who has left their chairs, shanties, ect in the original line can return to them and they will be allowed in the store first. Erin almost starts crying at the injustice of it all... but can't because she is too cold to produce tears.

4:00 am Circuit City employees start handing out impossibly small maps of the store (luckily, we pre-shopped)

4:30 am Vouchers are handed out for computers. Jerky Highschoolers claim all laptop vouchers and then turn around and attempt to sell them to others behind them in line. We are all freezing nearly to the point of biothermal shutdown.

4:40 am Circuit City employees start handing out complimentary notepads. Young woman behind us in line cackles with derisive insanity.

4.50 am Dunkin Doughnuts guy shows up with coffee. This is nearly 7 hours after we've arrived. No one buys coffee, instead they yell at him for not showing up sooner.

5:00 am Put our game faces on, at least 3 other couples around us in line are after our TV, by our estimation. Doors open.

5:05 am Erin has hands on 32 in Sharp TV... not our TV, but our price. Mike sets out to find a store employee to clarify.

5:06 am Two employees later, Mike waves Erin down to pick up the stereo. He's number 5 in line with sticky note in hand. Fingers crossed.

5:10 am TV is claimed, bought and paid for. So is stereo. There were only 8 TV's available. We drive around to back of building, load up our prize and head home.

5:30 am In bed. Sweet dreams of new beautiful, ginormous TV.

9:30 am Mike is up. TV is up. Success.

Cute picture... they're rare... so I am posting it!

2007-11-14T15:22:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of our Best Friend, and photographer extraordinaire, Kevin Von Qualen. Google him and check out his site... he is AMAZING for weddings!

Tis the season

2007-11-14T10:11:00.000-06:00

In about another week, dear friends, I will embark on my first true effort at holiday sale maddness. I will become just another willing and even eager participant in the psychotic phenomenom otherwise known as "Black Friday".

For those of you who know me well, you probably realize how unusual this is for me. I typically am a little bit of a "crowd" snob and refuse to partake in the shopping craziness the day after Thanksgiving. In fact, the term "Black Friday", itself, was completely foreign to me. I thought it was just something that had to do with the Great Depression... but desperate times call for desperate measures, kids.

Let me explain. My husband and I have decided to make our first official "real" grown up purchase. Besides our couch. Which, upon further consideration, perhaps we should have waited on that purchase. At least until our puppy was full grown. But anyways...

Well, everyone, we are buying a flatscreen TV. A 42 inch LCD moniter with a special option that will tint the screen according to the level of natural light in the room. Yeah, I know... it's a pretty big freaking deal.

I'm not much of a TV person. I mean, we don't even have cable. But it is really starting to get on my nerves that the three or so hours a week that I spend watching television are constistently being interrupted by our screen going out. By going out, I mean, just that... going out somewhere. I don't know where, but we've discovered through good old fashioned trial and error that if we jump with both feet right in this particular spot in front of our couch, there is about a 87% success rate of having it come back.

Why get such a nice tv, you ask? Why the heck not? That's what my hubbie always says. In truth, we were looking at the 36 inch, but my father-in-law said "Why not just go for the 42 incher?" and Mike, being the easily persuaded man that he is decided that that was enough reason for him.

So a few months back I caved in and we went to work. We called up our respective parental units and explained that this year, all we want is money. Really. True, we've said it before and probably didn't really mean it, but this year we're legit. Then the real struggle began.

The last few weeks have been spent scoping out underground "pre-black" Friday websites and coupon centers during my lunch hours and previewing our picks on the store shelves in the evenings. We've narrowed it down to our top contender, but there is no way in heck that I am writing it out here, in case one of you are my competition come a week from Friday.

So there I will be, 3 am on Friday morning. Fighting my turkey hangover with a hot cup of dunkin dougnuts coffee and plotting our route through the aisles to our prize. Perhaps, if the "nutty holiday shopping gods", in which I don't, of course, believe in, smile upon us, I will have a success story to share with you all!

Wish us luck!

This past weekend...

2007-10-29T14:06:00.000-05:00

I am working on putting up pics on my blog of things I've been up to...

This is from this past weekend. Our old friends from college, the Katerbergs, and their little girl, Abbie came to stay with us. We spent a super fun and super tiring Saturday downtown racing around in trolleys and trains and splashing around in the water room! (be advised: wear the proffered rain coats if you take advantage of all the children's museum has to offer!) Since our trip was "kid themed", we invited my youngest brother and sister, James and Bridget along for all the crazy-hectic fun.

2007-10-29T12:26:00.001-05:00

This photo is from Christmas Eve Eve- last year... when our best friends, the Vonqualens came out to celebrate the holidays with toasty warm holiday treats.

I realize that we are only days from Halloween... and that that is a pretty big deal for lots of people...

But it isn't such a huge deal for me. I am, of course, looking forward to those cuter then cute trick-or-treaters showing up on my doorstep in want of neighborly enablers to support their sugar habits... and its been highly entertaining scrolling through my friends various websites and checking out their costumes from their last-weekend parties all across the continental US.

Nevertheless, I, personally, am very eagerly looking forward to the day AFTER Halloween. On the day after Halloween the radio will begin playing Christmas music (at least those special seasonal stations will), and the temperature will surely start to drop and I will begin baking and crafting and watching copious amounts of White Christmas and Eloise at Christmastime, starring my very most favorite birthday-sharing buddy, Julie Andrews in all her "Nanny" spendidness...

And I just get giddy thinking about it. The Holidays.

I. Love. The. Holidays.

I love them because they are a celebration of my Savior, Jesus' birth. I love them because we get to give presents. I love them because we hang sparkling white fairy lights everywhere that make the world seem all glittery and beautiful. I love them because I can giggle guiltlessly at the Christmas Lobster in Love Actually. I love them because for some reason unbeknownest to the general population, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone is considered a Christmas movie and they even show that sweet kids movie on TV. I love them because we are permitted and even expected to completely gorge ourselves on high sugar, high fat, extra creamy, uber rich comfort foods.

I love them because it is a time of gratitude and fortitude and love and family and everything perfectly wonderful in the world..

If I had my say, Heaven would be a Currier and Ives Christmas Eve each and every day. And I am pretty sure that God reads my blog, so I think that it might be a done deal.

Anther milestone...

2007-10-26T10:01:00.000-05:00

I have reached another milestone, my friends. I knew this was coming. In the back of my mind, I have been awaiting it's arrrival with bated breath. Dramatic, to be sure... but I can not say that I am exaggerating. Yesterday was a day like any other. Perhaps a little bit more dreary beause it was a Thursday, which happens to be my least favorite day of the week- but a typical day, nonetheless.

Until I came home and checked the mail.

An invite to my Godson's first birthday party was precariously perched right on top of that little pile of junk mail and Christmas catalogues.

I have been invited to a grown up birthday party for a little boy. It is one thing to have had close friends welcoming little babies into their families. It is quite another to be have those little babies become little kids and to have those little kids have birthday parties!

Don't get me wrong. As I type this, I am beaming. I am absolutely thrilled that Noah, who happens to be the absolute cutest little guy on the planet, is turning one. A little shocked that time has flown so quickly over the past year... but thrilled all the same.

It's just a milestone, that's all. I mean, this is my first time doing this. The first of many, to be sure... for another couple close to us just had their first child this past summer and our dear friends from the southside are welcoming their first any day now... So I will be a seasoned party attender before I know it. Life carries on... and before too too long I will start collecting consumer reports of which hot toys are the safest, and I will find myself fighting the nutty crowds the day after Thanksgiving in order to procure a tickle-me-elmo or whatever is hot these days, to send to my littlest friends. And I'm looking forward to it. Really!

But still, yikes. :)

I heart Dumbledore.

2007-10-22T08:43:00.000-05:00

"I always thought of Dumbledore as gay... Dumbledore fell in love with Grindelwald, and that that added to his horror when Grindelwald showed himself to be what he was. To an extent, do we say it excused Dumbledore a little more because falling in love can blind us to an extent? But, he met someone as brilliant as he was, and rather like Bellatrix he was very drawn to this brilliant person, and horribly, terribly let down by him. Yeah, that's how i always saw Dumbledore."

-JK Rowling speaking at Carnagie Hall this past week

Of course. Of course. It is so obvious and perfect to me that Dumbledore would be gay. From the moment I first visualized his flambouyant purple suit in "The Half Blood Prince", I should have known it. I mean, it was blatently obvious that he and McGonagall never had anything going on... and not a single long-illusive mistress-in-hiding crashed his funeral, nor did anyone contact Rita Skeeter for an exclusive behind-the-wizard expose on his private affairs- which, given the drastic amount of digging around that our favorite love-to-hate reporter did in Dumbledore's past, one likely could have been coaxed out of hiding.

Did Rita Skeeter know that Dumbledore was gay? Did she recognize the relationship between the young Grindevald and Dumbledore for what it really was? I think yes. I think that she elluded to it... pretty obviously, too... but I am certain that, Harry, not inclined to read deep into romanticisms, would not of seen it for what it was. Hermione, yes, but not Harry. And what would that have mattered anyways? I don't think it would have made a difference. Harry was the King of Tolerance and he loved Dumbledore for loving him. As a son. Or grandson, or whatever.

Of course Dumbledore fell in love with Grindevald. And doesn't that just make everything all more tragic? It is one thing to be at war with your best friend, but quite another to be at war with your best friends and the love of your life. Was it mutual? I think it must have been at some level, for in the end, Grindevald refused to give Dumbledore over to Voldemort. His final, remorseful, act of love.

Love. The underlying theme to the entire Harry Potter universe. Love is the most powerful and misunderstood kind of magic. It can both make or break you.

Sometimes, as in the story of Dumbledore, it does both.

My complete respect goes out to JK Rowling. Personal beliefs aside, or perhaps, because of my beliefs, I say this... you have long written of tolerance, acceptance and unabashed love. You have taught generations to care and to stand up for what they believe through your charasmatic and reachable characters... my hypothetical hat goes off to you. Well done.

In my defense.

2007-10-19T12:51:00.000-05:00

"Why Georgia," by John Mayer

Might be a quarter-life crisis / Or just a stirrin' in my soul / Either way / I wonder sometimes / About the outcome / Of a still verdictless life / Am I living it right

I just wanted to defend myself to the masses for my teenie little breakdown earlier this month. I'm much better, now... by the way. I'm embracing my 25-ness. Except when I forget that I'm 25. I did do that the other day. There seems to be a mental block... but it was corrected. And I'm okay with it. I like being 25.

I. Like. Being. 25.

That being said, I ran across something today (okay, I'll admit, I googled it- to lead you to believe that it just jumped out at me would be blatent lie and I'm too old to tell white lies). Do me a favor and google "quarter life crisis" and click on the wikipedia link. Scroll down the "emotional aspects".

There. Uh huh. See! I knew it wasn't just me. There is a perfectly appropriate and psychologically recognizable reason for why I freaked out.

I can't say that everything has righted itself. I mean, I still feel a little displaced and unsure how to proceed in my life. But one thing that has occured to me (likely due to my new-found wisdom): I can no longer compare myself to my peers nor my parents. Times are different. Circumstances are varied.

Life works on a strictly case by case basis.

The trouble with sweet stuff

2007-10-09T08:53:00.000-05:00

Seriously, now... what is going on? I have been a completely irrational cranky pants for the last two days and this morning I started to cry because Mike ate my birthday smiley face cookie and threatened to eat my apple doughnut if I didn't get to it.

Not kidding.

There are horrible tragedies going on right this second all over God's creation and I'm have a melt down over baked goods.

How totally ridiculous.

Anyway, I ate the doughnut just now and it was fabulous. Way to make a decision, Erin. Thatta girl. Baby steps.

PS Has anyone ever heard of "Cerberus". Extra credit if you can tell me what it is. Besides the name of my little sister's new pup. Good thing it isn't a child, or he might have grow up to have a complex. :)

confession of ignorant young american

2007-10-08T08:24:00.000-05:00

Hello. My name is Erin and I am a celebrity gossip addict. And I hate it! I really really do! Not enough to stop, I suppose. I mean, how does that saying go? "You really have to want to change..." And I don't. But I do. Does that make sense?

I can't stand that I hungrily devour the high-end tabloids (at least I have the presense of mind to avoid the "bat boy found in southern missouri" articles) while I'm standing in line at Meijers. I pretend (okay, maybe I'm not completely pretending) that I am just super anal and have to have all my groceries grouped together by frozen/refridgerated/pantry/paper goods/ bathroom items (which, by the way, is really a key organizational tool that everyone should try at least once), but really I'm just taking my sweet time decifering for myself whose "secret-celebrity-cellulite-covered-thighs" those are in the grainy Maibu Beach shots. I'm pretty good at figuring it out, too... I mean.... those uber thin party girls didn't get that way from working out with a trainer. More like subsisting on iceburg lettuce (which everyone knows, holds no nutritional value) and martinis. Who am I to judge though? My cellulite situation is no better off.

And what about those fake celebrity news shows on at like six o'clock at night? I tell myself that I really should flip the channel during the next commercial break to the "World News" or "Nightly News" or whatever. I mean, I am single-handedly feeding every angry (and rightfully so, I might add) foreigner's argument that young Americans are self-centered and clueless about real issues. Such as third world poverty and the war in the middle east. But as shallow as it may seem, I soak up the sordid affairs of infamous hollywood actresses with much more ease and interest then I do the daily activities of the Jihad.

Don't get me wrong. I do make an effort. I was a sociology major, for Pete's sake. I lived, breathed and frequently quoted opression on both the world wide and national scale for several years. I listen to NPR on my morning commute and scan CNN, BBC and MSN.com each and every lunch hour to assure that I am up on my current events. I try to break the image, honestly I do.

I just find People.com and EW.com considerably more to my liking.

Each and every day, I am clicking through the photos under the headings of "caught in the act" or "they do it, too". I'm facinated with the proof that these unobtainable celebs drink coffee and walk their dogs and buy spaghetti noodles. Just. Like. Me.

But here is where the overwhelming guilt comes in. Princess Diana. One careless and sinister act and I have been forever shamed. I can shake my head with the rest of the world, mourning such a horribly tragedy, and yet in the same moment, click on yet another revealing site. I know it is terrible. And wrong. And pathetic. But there it is for you. I still do it.

And some of you may judge me. Some of you are way above such lowly obsessions. I tip my hat to you. Good for you. You are among the few either truely strong-willed, or those that in my husband's words "could really care less"... I admire you most fervently.

But for the rest of us... I fear we are at a loss.

So wrong.

2007-10-03T08:14:00.000-05:00

Wow. I know I read a lot of books... possibly some would even call it an excessive amount... but only rarely do books affect me in such a way that I can't stop thinking about them. "The Time Travelers Wife" did this. So did the final Harry Potter. And Barbara Einrich's "Nickled and Dimed".

But right now, I am in the midst of reading "The Kindness of Strangers". It tells the story of a family that fosters the little boy of their long-time friends- who had been secretly sexually abusing him for years. It doesn't take place in the ghetto. It takes place in upper middle class suburbia. And it is shocking. I mean, I know this stuff happens; I've even been assaulted myself. Maybe that's why I can't shake this sick-to-my-stomach feeling that set in. I don't know. It's so wrong to do that to a child.

So, on my way to work, I saw this little girl waiting at her bus stop and all I could think was that one in every six AMERICAN women are sexually assaulted some time in their lives. What are the chances that she will remain unscathed? One in six. And that's only to say that she hasn't been already assaulted. Fifty-nine percent of assaults are never even reported. Especially those of children.

I would recommend this book to anyone... it is incredibly moving and I think that it disrupts the perfect bubble of safety that we surround ourselves with. Which is good. But be warned, it isn't for the faint of heart. People persevere, but it is tough to think that a child would even have to.

For the K/Caties in my life...

2007-10-02T08:01:00.000-05:00

"I am confident they will do well together. Their tempers are much alike. They will be cheated assiduously by their servants. And be so generous with the rest, they will always exceed their income." Mr. Bennet (Pride and Prejudice)

My good friend (and more often then I would like to admit, "lifesaver"), Katie Freund commented that I should write up a little snippit about being too nice. At her suggestion, I grinned in the rememberance of several lazy afternoon trips to the mall spent griping about the our too-gentle dispositions and the grief they caused our poor, unstable, teenaged hearts.

Ah the curse of being too nice. Is it a curse? I guess at one point in my life, I thought it was. I actually recall a particularly hideous poem that I wrote, back when I did things like that, that was entitled "the cuteness factor". The first line went something like "the cuteness factor is my curse...". I'm not kidding. Anyways, it was absolutely awful and to save the world from having to suffer through any further prose, I promptly ended my carreer as a poet. But not before a friend of mine made a copy of it for his poetry portfolio, which means there is incriminating evidense of my old self out there somewhere.

He was a El-Ed major, if that says anything about the quality.

Anyhow, I no longer feel that way about being nice. So I'm nice. So I like to make others happy, even if, at times, it comes at risk to my own happiness. Some may call me a people pleaser, but I don't think that is accurate. I won't go to any lengths to make others happy. For example, if my husband was like, "Erin, we could really use some extra cash, and I hear that strippers make a killing on the weekends... " Of course, I would never stoop my morals... not that Mike would be happy having a wife as a stripper anyways, so I suppose that isn't the best example, but it is all I could up with this early in the morning.

I don't mind doing things for other people. Really, I don't. I like scratching Mike's belly until he falls asleep. I enjoy baking chocolate chip cookies for my step dad. I get a kick out of taking Bridget and James to the pumpkin farm and I love sending those stupid hallmark e-cards. Furthermore, when the dishes pile up at work, I don't mind being the one to wash them, and I certaintly don't care if other people bank on me being the one to do it.

What I do mind is when people see my efforts as a sign of weakness. I think that if there were one title in the english language that gets me riled, it would be "push-over". I can't begin to tell you how I hate that. Why does our society take something so refreshing and turn it into something less then desireable? Like life is one giant dramatic game of "Survivor". Whatever, if that's what it takes, call me Push-over. Thats me, Erin the Push-Over. That's kinda funny.... reminds me of "Alexander the Great" or "Attilla the Hunn". Sorry, if I spelled that wrong, history is only a hobby for me.

At any rate, I like my sunny personality. And yes, I do have a sunny personality. Some would argue that my last entry sounded slightly bit neurotic and anxious... but it was writing folks. Geesh. I like being 25, okay?

And I'm not just saying that to make you all happy.

Coming of Age

2007-09-27T08:48:00.000-05:00

Coming of age. What a seemingly grand and perfect ideal. It just screams romance, and I don't mean in the lovey way... I mean in the grand and perfect way. I mean in the "of course it's grand and perfect, I'm coming of age" way. In fact, this is my new mantra as I am counting down the days. I'm not actually the "mantra chanting" sort of girl, never have been... but perhaps it is something that you take up when you "come of age". (aside: I read that someone out there is keeping a blog on inappropriate quote use and I am willing to do my part to help in any way that I can)

I will turn 25 in just under 5 days. I will be settled smack dab in my twenties. In just under 6 days, I will encounter my first akward and unsteady steps on the other side of the "Roaring, Raging Twenties" mountain. I will be this much closer to turning 30. THIRTY.

My best friend from high school, who incidentally is all hopped up on ephoric baby vibes, as she is 8 months along with her "first", turned 25 last week, and therefore has become my impromptu "coming of age mentor". Once you start chanting mantras, you must have a mentor. It's an unspoken rule.

"It's called a quarter life crisis." She says.

"Really? There's a name for it? That's depressing."

"Well, you know... it's like what college graduates go through when they are newly released into the real world."

"I graduated like 4 years ago."

"Yeah, well, that's what it is, anyway."

Quarter life crisis. As in the hipper, junior version of the midlife crisis. As in, we, the Sociology Majors of America, have decided to create yet another label to scar society, this time taking aim at our young adults... listen, kids, you've made it through the prebubecent whoas and adolecent turmoils, but before we can allow you completely out into the wild... we have just one more little challenge...

You will second guess your career, the career that you began only a few short and promising years ago. You will go to concerts and complain the music is too loud and listen to NPR radio and your way home from work. You will become addicted to caffine, try to quit, and take it up again to avoid the withdrawl. Your body will get soft and mushy, and not in a good way. You will dress in old faded alumni sweatshirts and faded jeans on the weekend and ann taylor loft on the weekdays. You will live for Friday, not Thursday. You will attend graduations, bachelorette parties, baby showers, and baptisms all in the same weekend. You will reverse rolls with your parents on a regular basis and people will stop telling you that you are too young for things. And that will make you sad, which is unexpected. Worst yet, you won't be able to ride roller coasters anymore.

And when you have sucessfully made it through this trechorous era of your life, your reward? Turning 30. Awesome.