Hauskaa Joulua!

That’s “Merry Christmas” in Finnish.

I mainly wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas in Finnish so I could post this lovely picture.
 

 
What the hell??  Nothing like some lawn gnome-esque people chasing after a pig down a snowy hillside. Sweetness.

Wait just a second…those might be a few of my Finnish family members…

Just yanking your chain. My family would totally only chase after a pig if it was running off with a case of beer. ;)

Have a very Merry Christmas, everyone!

~as

Anne Stefl, Artist Extraordinaire

As the holiday season continues on, Eric and I hit up Christmas Gathering #4 this past Saturday. It was at a friend’s house and part of the festivities later in the evening involved game of Cranium. Mind you, the one and only other time I played this game was a few years back and at the time, I thought it was awful - boring and just plain dumb. Maybe I just sucked at it, though? I never considered that option before. Huh.

Naturally, when it was busted out on Saturday, I was hoping I just had a bad past experience and this time would be better. And it was!

And while I royally suck at Pictionary, I seemed to have the Gods of drawing looking down on me because I dominated the sketching challenges! I was like a modern day freaking Van Gogh. Okay, that’s probably taking it too far.

Anyway, usually my drawing resembles something a 4 year old would muster up, but for some oddball reason, my drawings actually looked at least like a 10 year old’s and miraculously got the job done. AND THAT’S NOT ALL, FOLKS! I apparently have also discovered an unknown talent of drawing with my eyes closed as the “Sensosketch” challenges required.

And for me, apparently all it takes is one good experience with a game before it finds itself as a last minute add to my Christmas list. Score! :)

Speaking of Christmas lists, for Wii owners and lovers out there – the Wii Resort Sports game should be a must-have on your Christmas list this year! It has a ton of island-themed sports, such as:

Wakeboarding
Canoeing
Table Tennis
Sword fighting - WTF?!? Not sure who actually sword fights while on an island vacation…hmmm...

There are about eight other sports on the game as well that I’m completely forgetting at the moment.

Although an interesting choice of resort games, it’s especially fun to watch the sword fighting game. It’s probably even more fun to play, but I wasn’t in the mood to leave my comfy spot on the couch, so I relegated to just watching. Oh, and a certain select friend of ours really gets into it... We’re talking flailing arms that even the most agile of people would have a hard time dodging.

~as

Party on, Wayne.

Every holiday season, all of my close girlfriends and I have an annual Christmas party where we all get together, eat and drink too much, and exchange gifts.

We’ve been doing this for several years now and each year we have an absolute blast!

...minus that one year where I had too much fun with red wine and….you can imagine what happened next all over my light beige winter coat.

RIP beige winter coat.

Rest assured, no coats were harmed in this year’s festivities. I did; however, learn some valuable lessons:

1. Cranking up the heat too high on a chocolate fondue warmer will never end well…will usually result in smoke and burning chocolate.

2. Socializing for too long while opening gifts may result in others not waiting their turn before opening their gifts. We had two creepers this year that had to be stopped before opening out of turn! The nerve. ;)

3. Accidentally “competing” with another girlfriend in the dessert category will result in her threatening her sister’s life if she eats my dessert over hers. HA!

4. Drinks mixed with a fast-moving game of Catch Phrase will always result in a full beer being spilled on new carpet.

5. Drinking mixed with a fast-moving game of Catch Phrase will also result in select team members thinking it is okay to give a clue for “Jeepers Creepers” as “It rhymes with eepers eepers!” Really?!? NOT okay. :)

Happy Holidays to all!

~as

It’s a Chrismukkah Miracle!

Every year before Christmas rolls around, I always swear I’m going to be more organized and on top of things in terms of shopping for gifts. And year after year, it never seems to happen. I always have good intentions, but things seem to come up and before you know it, it’s the week of Christmas. Well, no more, folks!

That’s right – you heard it here first – I’m 95% complete with my shopping!! WOO HOO!!

I just have a few little things to pick up (which I even already know what they are – just need to make it to the store) and then I’ll be done. It’s a miracle!

And I’m super excited to give Eric his gift/s, too. I think he’s going to love it/them. Sorry, I have to use single and plural so he has ZERO clue and can’t try to guess!

Speaking of gifts…is it just me, or is there always a bit of apprehension present (ha…pun totally intended!) when opening presents on Christmas morning???

Don’t get my wrong…I LOVE gifts (I’m a woman, afterall!), but I’m also pretty certain we’ve all been there…opening up what looks to be an awesome gift given the nicely wrapped box just to find it’s contents are less than desirable. Ugh.

And because I never want to hurt anyone’s feelings, I always give my best Oscar-worthy performance and exclaim how much I love whatever it is that I can’t understand why in the world someone would give me.

I know I’m partially enabling these oddball gifts by not saying anything, and letting whomever continue to think I like receiving gifts such as a leopard print purse or Christmas themed thongs, but oh well. It’s about being together and the holiday spirit, right?

That’s what I keep telling myself, at least. ;)

~as

Happy Slapsgiving!! (ala Barney Stinson style)

FINALLY. My second favorite holiday is upon us. This year we’re headed up to beautiful Door County to celebrate Thanksgiving. Regrettably, I’m one of three people in the whole state of WI that hasn’t been to Door County before, so I’m definitely excited to take a load off and nosh on way too much food for my own good.

The downside of going to Door County, you ask? I will sadly miss Black Friday shopping. GASP!

Let’s all take a moment of silence, please…..

Black Friday is like a holiday in it of itself. Any reader of this blog knows I love shopping. And any good shopper knows that Black Friday is like the Olympics of shopping. It’s all about powering through and coming out victorious with oodles of gifts at phenomenal prices.

Yes, I’m THAT GIRL that’s up and at ‘em by 3:30am to hit up the shops that open their doors at 4am. It’s pretty ridiculous. And by pretty ridiculous, I mean totally AWESOME!!!

So you see my pain when I came the realization that our Door County trip would result in me missing out on Black Friday. I’m pretty sure shortly thereafter I told Eric that this would be the first and last time we traveled over Thanksgiving. I’m pretty sure it’s written in the bylaws of the “Olympics of Shopping” that prohibiting Black Friday shopping is grounds for divorce. Instead of irreconcilable differences listed on the court papers, it would read: “DUDE! He tried to prohibit Black Friday shopping!”

And the judge would totally side with me and say, "Enough said!"

P.S. – My one saving grace this year is my laptop with wireless internet. Eric’s lucky he got that sucker for me for my birthday. Looks like someone WAS thinking ahead afterall…ha!  Select retailers are also offering online sales, but it's just not the same. Boo.

P.P.S. – I hope everyone has a safe and happy Thanksgiving holiday! Eat and drink WAY too much – it’s the American way! :)

~as

“Anne’s Plan for Soldier Return”

I know I’m a day late on thanking all of our wonderful and brave veterans...sorry about that, guys and gals! I did think about y’all yesterday, though. Somewhere in between my drowsy state of chugging orange juice and falling asleep on the couch, I gave a shout out to all of you!

I hate being sick. I don’t get sick often – once a year, if that – but when I do, I feel like I’m about to keel over and die. After spending my life savings on over the counter medicine, I hope I’m on the mend.

Enough about me; back to the Veterans.

I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to be away from your family, friends, and loved ones for such extended periods of time while serving our country.

With that said, I’m going to do my small part to try to get you all back on American soil…for good!

You ready to hear my plan? (Brace yourselves)

Please see my flowchart below. I like to call this “Anne’s Plan for Soldier Return”:

 
 
I just got a 30% off Kohls coupon, too.  Dangerous.  Start packing, soldiers!!!
 
And yes, I DO know how riduculous I am.  And yes, this plan is ludicrous.  :)
 
~as

Spooktacular findings

Kids may have candy-filled Halloweens to look forward to, but from now on I plan on getting mentally prepared for the ghoulish day by having seasonally appropriate martinis. Pumpkin Spice Martinis, to be exact. Yum. Take one look at this bad boy and just TRY to deny the urge to run out and make one of your own. I dare you.

Eric whipped one of these bad boys up for me the other night and let me just say – yowza!! This is one of those dangerous types of drinks, though. They taste oh so delicious and go down way too easily. Too many of these puppies and I’ll probably be a bit too jovial and hand out full bags of candy to trick-or-treaters.

If you, too, were drooling like I was when I first saw a picture of this piece of art, here’s the recipe:

 

PS – I suppose Ray’s is back on my good side now. The Pumpkin Spirit that makes this drink so delicious is sold by very few distributors. Of course, Ray’s is one of them. Yet another reason for Eric to love them even more. Damn you, Ray’s. Damn you.  You’ve won again.

~as

Modern day MacGyver, I am

As a child, I was fascinated with MacGyver. Who am I kidding? I’m STILL fascinated.

My grandma watched the show incessantly and as such, whenever I visited her over my summer breaks I would always get sucked in as well. After all, the man epitomized genius. He could take a shoe string, bubblegum, and a paper clip and rig up the most amazing contraption to get him out of any scenario imaginable. Brilliant!

Nothing ever stopped that crazy cat.

Today, I would have made MacGyver proud.

For the last few weeks I’ve really been digging hot tea at work. I'm still loyal to my faithful coffee in the mornings, but I’m flirting with tea to break up the boring afternoon bottled water monotony. Bueller…Bueller…

Anyway, select brands of tea don’t have strings attached to the bags to easily dip them into the hot water. (Side note: what weenie made that decision??) Usually, that means I burn my fingers reaching into the cup of hot water after I’ve let it float around in the water for a bit. Other times I’ll use a plastic spoon to retrieve it, but who wants to waste a perfectly good spoon just to retrieve a tea bag?

So what’s a girl to do? Make like MacGyver and use what’s readily available at my desk!

 

As you’ll notice, I’ve used a standard office clip that I’ve clamped to my tea bag. Along with an assist from my trusty ballpoint pen…BAM! I’m good to go.

No big deal. Please call me MacGyver, Jr. from here on out.

Now if only I could use my covert ops/MacGyver skills to devise a way to NOT spill nail polish and hand lotion all over the inside of my purse…in the same weekend. Doh! Not only was it a nice purse, but it was also OPI nail polish! OPI is like the crack of nail polish. It’s expensive and ridiculously addictive.

~as

What the what?!?

We’re headed this weekend to go visit my Mom’s side of the family in Michigan….waaaaay up north to the good ol’ U.P. (That’s the Upper Peninsula, for those of you not up on your geography lingo.) Or as we like to affectionately call it, “The Yoop”.

So what are the chances they are under a Winter Weather Advisory tonight? Very good, apparently. 6 inches of rainy, heavy SNOW. What the what?!? Snow? On October 23rd? And 6 inches of it? Sigh.

And riddle me this, Batman: How can they have a WINTER Weather Advisory when winter is still TWO MONTHS away?!?

“On the road again…I just can’t wait to get on the road again...”

I bet Willie Nelson wasn’t heading to the U.P. in October when he wrote those lyrics. Just sayin…

Stayed tuned for tales of our wintry weather travels next week. I’ll likely be incommunicado while in The Yoop. They’re still waiting to get the Internet up there.

Just joshing! Love you, Yoop! ;)


~as

I blame Ray's

“Hi, my name is Anne, and I’m married to a gin martini pusher.”

There. I said it.

Now the healing can begin.

To give a little background, Eric regularly gets emails from Ray’s Liquors for various promotions. The latest and greatest had to do with Rehorst gin and vodka. While I may fall victim to clothing/shoes promos, Eric falls hard for Ray’s promos.

The added appeal of the Rehorst deal included two tickets to a Rehorst distillery tour and tasting. For those with a liver of steel or those that appreciate the taste of liquor on its own, this is probably of great interest.

Me…not so much.

While the jury’s still out on whether or not my liver is made of steel, I definitely do not have a taste for hard liquors minus a mixer. When Eric brought up the idea of the tour/tasting, all I could think about is where I would be able to ditch the “tastes” I would receive. Nearest plant?

Anyway, I’m not sure if he’s gearing up for the tour or what, but Eric’s been lovin’ him some gin martinis lately. And I’m not talking the type I could be down with. You know…Cosmos, Appletinis, Chocolate flavored, etc.

We’re talking the real kind - straight gin mixed only with Vermouth…the concoction guaranteed to grow hair on your chest.

And he’s convinced himself that he’s going to get me to like them as much as he does. Accordingly, each time he mixes one up, he asks me to try it. And being the agreeable wife I am, I do. Unfortunately for him, this is ALWAYS what happens:

I’m a kid with a lemon for the first time. It’s awful. Just awful.

And then about two minutes later, he’ll try to convince me to try it again! Ummm, if ANYTHING about my previous reaction indicated I would enjoy another taste, please let me know so I stop it immediately.

With that said, the other day Eric came home from hanging out with some friends. With great apprehension and caution he asked, “How would you feel about me maybe bringing one of my friends instead on the Rehorst tour and tasting?”

How do I feel??? OVERJOYED! There is a God.

~as

Cracks kill

I swear, I could write a book on the overwhelming amount of embarrassing moments I go through on a weekly basis.

The latest occurred as I was sauntering down the streets of downtown Milwaukee as I made my way into work the other morning. Actually, let’s be honest – it’s late October in Wisconsin. No one saunters anymore. It’s a rapid walk to/from anywhere in hopes your digits don’t turn into purple icicles in 2.2 seconds.

To give a little background on this incident (and Eric will most definitely agree), I usually make terrible decisions when it comes to sensible footwear in the fall/winter months. I’m the girl that wears open-toe shoes throughout October until I can’t stand the numbing and purple tint my tootsies get. I’m also the girl that you see roaming around in 15 inches of snow with four inch heels on. Like I said, awful decisions. And I know I should be more sensible, but I’m not, which probably entitles me to a few of the ridiculous events that transpire.

Anyway, I was rounding the corner at a major intersection and was about to open the office building door. All was looking hunky dory. Suddenly, before I know it, I’m walking…left foot, right foot, left foot…and I go to step with my right heeled foot and my heel cements itself into a HUGE crack in the pavement! And my momentum was going with such force that I continued to take another two steps forward…WITHOUT MY RIGHT SHOE before I could stop. Eeks!

And because I also put off wearing socks for as long as I can, poor “righty” landed smack dab on the cold, dirty pavement…all NAKED!  Here's the closest visual I could find.  This chick looks like she's on some sort of grate, which I was not, but you get the idea:

Oh, and not only was I now sans one shoe in the middle of downtown, the heel on my pump got so wedged into the f’ing crack that I had to use both hands to pull the sucker out! For a brief millisecond, I panicked thinking about what my plan would be if I couldn’t get the shoe out of the crack.

Possibly run home and hide under the covers in my bed?

Luckily, it came out of the crack a second later…minus the leather the stupid asphalt tore off the heel. Guess I didn’t really want that leather piece anyway. Looks like the black Sharpie will need to fix this boo-boo…

To make matters worse, this all went down right in front of glass doors which are next to a bank of elevators that typically hold court to 10-15 people at any given time around the 8 o’clock hour. Well, I must’ve been REALLY good the previous day (or maybe scaled back on my road rage that morning) to be granted a “freebie”. Only one older woman was there. Phew. And she was nice about it, too…even going so far as to say it’s happened to her before. Who knows if it really happened to her, but at least my blushed cheeks started to fade. I’m sure they’ll make another appearance all too soon, though.

~as

Dolla dolla bills, y'all

Some of you may have noticed that I recently added advertising to my blog. I decided to do this mainly out of sheer curiosity. Initially, I was curious about the type of ads that would be placed on my site. I was REALLY hoping I would not need to implement the “18 and over” banner on my site due to the ad content, if you catch my drift. Thankfully, I did not. Phew.

I think I may have figured out that the text in my new posts are scanned for various key words and then the advertisements are based off of those words and/or pics. Then again, I’m still very new to blogging so I might be making all of that up. One never knows. And I suppose I could try to research that a bit more, but I’m bored just thinking about that.

Oops, I’m on a tangent again. Back to the reasons I added advertising…

My interest was also piqued when I found out I could actually make money from posting the ads. Say what?!?! Money? Color me there.

The first week or so, I wasn’t seeing much in terms of cash flow. And I’m still not. But I’m starting to see a little! So far I’ve racked up $3.70! Woohoo! Okay, it’s nothing to be excited about yet, but maybe one day. Only YOU can help me make this site profitable (or at least not an utter waste of time)!

Moral of the story: If you see an ad you’re interested in, I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to you checking it out. 

Official Google Disclaimer: Clicks on Google ads must result from genuine user interest. Any method that artificially generates clicks or impressions on your Google ads is strictly prohibited.

Now I'm off the hook.  ;)

Maybe the time I put into coming up with content and transforming all the nonsensical thoughts in my head into a coherent post could actually buy me a pair of shoes in the long run. And I mean LONG run. Unless, of course, you know where I can get a sweet pair of kicks for $3.70…

Speaking of sweet, on a totally different subject, I was told not long ago that I have “sweet carrying skills”. It was attributed to the fact that I can carry multiple beverage glasses, plates, etc. at the same time with my bare hands. BARE HANDS FOLKS. No silly trays needed here. Pffft. I was a waitress throughout high school and college and apparently those mad skills I acquired are really coming in handy each night as Eric and I make our trek from the kitchen to our upstairs family room with dinner.

I think these sweet carrying skills will pair nicely with my sweet computer hacking skills and nun chuck skills.

~as

Run, Forrest, Run!

This past weekend Eric accomplished a HUGE goal. He ran in the 2009 Chicago Marathon! GO ERIC!!!

After about six months of training, the weekend had finally arrived. Although the race itself wasn’t until Sunday, we headed down to the Windy City on Saturday.

To prep for the big day, we carb-loaded at an Italian restaurant in the West Loop Saturday night. We, of course, didn’t know we needed reservations so we ended up having to sit at the bar and have the bartender serve us. No big deal. We were both fine with that…until Chatty Cathy to my right wouldn’t shut up. It was this older man (late 50’s/early 60’s) that seemed like a creeper at first. Turns out he was the owner of the restaurant and is originally from Waukesha, WI. Sounds fine, right?

No.

He KEPT talking and would not stop. I ended up humoring him for about 15-20 minutes while we ate our dinner entrées. Ugh. I somehow got this idea in my head that maybe if I let him ramble on he would comp our meals. Negative. I was kind of irritated. I mean, really. Being the owner of a restaurant you have to be aware that people want to enjoy their meals with one another – not a complete stranger! In the words of Full House’s Stephanie Tanner, “How rude!” The food, however, was really good so it all worked out in the end. 

Anyway, the next morning after gearing up in multiple layers for the frigid Chicago temps (30 degrees at 6:30am), I dropped Eric off at the start area and went to find parking for myself. Not easy in downtown Chicago on a good day, let alone on Marathon Day.

Somehow by the grace of God, though, I managed to find a street spot – right next to a Starbucks nonetheless! With my Pumpkin Spice Latte in hand, I was able to witness Eric running his heart out at the 3.5 mile mark. Unfortunately, he didn’t see me because there were just too many people still clustered together...

I was on the move again. Next, I caught him on the 12.5 mile mark. After perching on my tippy-toes for what felt like hours of searching and scanning the pack of runners, I must’ve looked down for a brief second when all of a sudden I hear, “Anne!”

HA! In a setting where typically the spectators are yelling out the runner’s names, what are the chances that Eric is yelling mine? As it turns out, very good. He spotted me first. C’mon, Anne - look alive!

After laughing my butt off for a while because Eric spotted me first, I composed myself and booked it back to my car so I could drive to the 20.5 mile mark. Again, miraculously I found street parking about a half mile away from the course. I was definitely pressed for time, so I had to run from my car to the course sidelines in order to catch him. For a second, I felt like I was in the race! Okay, not really, but you catch my drift.

Alas, I saw Eric and was shouting his name like a woman gone mad. Just when I started to think he wasn’t going to see/hear me, he turned his head and found me and we waved and smiled at each other. YAY! I had a feeling at this point in the race he’d need all the support/motivation he could get, so I was SO glad he saw me cheering him on. Less than 6 miles to go at this point!

FYI - I would post pics that I took myself throughout the day, but they are so terrible I just can’t. They’re pretty comical actually. In most of the shots I only got half of his head. No body. Just half of his head. In my defense, though, it’s super hard to keep a watchful eye out for him, cheer like crazy when I do see him (and hopefully make eye contact with him), and still take the shot as he’s zooming by. Tricky stuff!

Lesson I learned that afternoon? ALWAYS make sure to arrange a meeting spot for AFTER the race. Oops. With hundreds of thousands of people clustered around the finish line and surrounding area, I almost started to panic when I realized in the blur of the morning we didn’t arrange anything. Thankfully, he borrowed someone’s cell phone and called me. Phew. “Reunited and it feels so good….”


~as

Kids crack me up

Every Halloween, I usually try to stock up on all the good stuff that trick-or-treaters hope to score - or at least the ones I hoped for – Reese’s peanut butter cups, Snickers, and Kit Kats. The bad thing is that I sample WAY too much as I wait for the kiddies to arrive. If I were smart, I’d get the kinds of candy I don’t like so I wouldn’t be as tempted to eat it, but it’s all about the kids, right?! I must get the good stuff, even if my waistline takes a hit. Trick-or-treating rules.

With that said, I asked my girlfriend Lynda what her kids (a 1 year old and 3 year old) are dressing up as this year.

The answer regarding her daughter (the 3 year old) was classic and literally made me laugh out loud because it was so stinkin’ adorable!

Lynda: “Mia is going as Allison Wonderland. I keep telling her it's "Alice in" but she corrects me. She knows everything right now. lol.”

Anne: (laughing her butt off for two reasons...)

First, I thought my dear friend Lynda - an adult, wife, and mother of two children - didn’t know it was "Alice in" Wonderland! I was thinking, “Umm...Lynda…" but then I kept reading.  Phew.

Second, I’m laughing because it’s just so freakin’ adorable. Kids definitely say/do/think the darndest things and I absolutely love it.

As a side note: why is THIS the first image that comes up on Google Images for Alice in Wonderland?!?!

Why do ALL costumes turn slutty these days? Seriously! I bet Slutty "Allison" will be giving out tricks instead of treats, if ya feel me. Wrong. Just wrong.

~as

I heart Pretty Woman

As (un)luck would have it, I did not in fact win the poker tournament. Big shocker, I know. Nor did my secret charm. BOO! The two surprises of the tournament for me?

First, I managed to stay in the tournament longer than Eric. <Insert record scratch>

Weird, right?! Not good for us. That meant the odds of us “cashing” drastically dropped at that point. (I think I used the term “cashing” appropriately, but God only knows…see this post for more details.) Here’s a little something to depict the predicament we were in:

With Eric out of the tournament things were looking bleak.

Second surprise? I was the last chick to survive in the tournament! Sweetness. So long story short, had I been playing the tournament with just the chicks, I would’ve totally dominated! Stupid boys. And we’ll ignore the fact that there were only a total of three girls playing. Minor details.

And just when I thought I didn’t quite lose enough money for the night, I proceeded to jovially join the cash game. “Big mistake. HUGE mistake.” (Vivian Ward, Pretty Woman) The cash game went south rather quickly, but for some unknown reason I kept shoving more money into the game. What the…?

Alas, there was good news of the night. We did NOT have repeat incidents of our last poker tournament. Incidents such as…well, to protect the privacy of the innocent, let’s just say there was a LOT of falling. And apparently too many drinks. But I’m proud to report this time the blinds were left unharmed and there were no bruises. Except maybe a few bruised egos for those of use that didn’t win the tournament.

In other news, we hit up the Sprecher Brewery Tour on Saturday. While I’ve frequented the Lakefront Brewery Tour, oh about 1,398 times, I was a Sprecher virgin. It was a quick tour (about 20-30 minutes) and our guide - who we know! - kept us moving along throughout the facility. Thank goodness for that because my A.D.D. tendencies can’t handle much more than that; especially since I’m pretty sure I could recite the brewing process in my sleep at this point.

After the tour, we sampled...rootbeer, of course! And if you believe that, I’ve got a bridge I want to sell you…

~as

T minus 4 days

That’s right folks – we’ll be opening our doors to welcome our friends and family for a poker tournament this Friday.

(If any legal entities are reading this, we will be playing purely for the fun and enjoyment of one another’s company. Duh. Sheesh!)

Anyway, while I usually haven’t fared very well in the past, I’m hoping for an underdog surprise this time around (with hopefully the above hand, if possible!). We haven’t had a chick win a tourney yet, but that’s all about to change. Clearly I do not lack the necessary confidence or the sweet, sweet poker lingo talk. Unfortunately, I lack the necessary skills. Crap. I’m banking on some good luck. I better start scrounging up a rabbit’s foot, 4-leaf clover, and a wishbone now.

Oh, and when I say I possess sweet, sweet poker lingo talk I really mean I string together random poker words into a sentence that makes zero sense. It’s pretty awesome. So you better watch out before I “go all in with my boat after I re-raised your bitch ass after the turn cuz I’m pot committed.” Yeah, I said it. And nope, I don’t know what I mean either.

I’m also banking on my secret weapon.

Eric.

Although, I guess he’s not really a secret anymore since he’s won a few tournaments. C’monnnn Sugar Daddy! Mama needs a new pair of shoes! I’d even settle for Kohl’s shoes. Seriously. I’ll even throwing in a Kohl’s coupon towards them. Ha!

Other wisdom to bestow upon you? I’m going to be “telling a story” with each hand I play so you best be listening or I’ll snatch up all your chips. Truth. (At least that’s what I’ve been told by a veteran.)

In other news, we’ll also be having a friend from out of town visiting so it’ll be a busy weekend. And as such, let the cleaning begin! Oh – gotta go…I’m being beckoned…“cinderella, cinderella!” No rest for the weary.

~as

Woman seeking good therapist

It feels like it just ended, but believe it or not, it’s baaaaaack! No, not the weird rash on my finger that required ‘roid cream. (Hold on…that IS back again! wtf?!?)

Wait for it…wait for it…bowling! Yup, the seemingly never-ending bowling league that Eric’s a part of has once again started. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fun league and he’s got some good friends on his team, but the league is 8 months long! Longest. League. Ever. And before any of you start thinking we’re bowling freaks, it’s so long because it’s an every other week deal. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a bowling freak. I’m minimally the freak part…

Anyway, I’m not technically part of the team although I do consider myself the resident cheerleader. Why don’t I play, you ask? Well, besides the fact that they have enough players, I will forever cringe when I think back to the first time I ever bowled with Eric (which has scarred me for life). It was about five years ago this fall and I really wish I would've been wearing this shirt:

It was a dark, stormy night. Okay, it probably wasn’t, but just go with it. Eric and I had been dating all of a month at this point and things were still very new. He’s all, “Want to go bowling?” and in the midst of just trying not to blush, stutter, or completely lose myself in thought trying to figure out how I managed to successfully rope this hottie into dating me, I’m all “Sure!”

Bad Anne! Bad Anne! You know this won’t end well!

So I geared up with the sweet neon orange rental shoes and my borrowed bowling ball and was all set. One of the first things I was thinking as I approached the lane for the first time was obviously, “Oh crap – I hope I’m wearing jeans that make my butt look good!” Because let’s be honest – anytime someone bowls you check our their rump. But it’s not entirely on purpose. That’s all there is to look at while someone’s getting ready to throw the ball! Anyone with me on this?? Anyway, little did I know that worrying about the appeal of my derriere was the last thing I needed to be concerned with.

The exact set of circumstances that transpired next are a little fuzzy and I’m still trying to work through them with my therapist, but all I know is that I went to throw my ball and it…flew backwards. Yes. BACKWARDS! Really?!? I mean honestly – who does that?!? Except me, that is. Seriously. SERIOUSLY! Talk about the epitome of embarrassment. Having to run after your ball in the opposite direction is something I will not likely forget anytime soon. :)  I have absolutely no idea why Eric didn’t head for the hills then. Little did he know that would be the first of countless ridiculous things I do. Poor guy.  And that’s why when people say they suck at bowling, I just chuckle to myself and think “If you only knew…”

~as

Fire in the hole!

Oh, D-Day. The day I NEVER look forward. And nope, I’m not talking about June 6, 1944. I’m referring to my dentist appointment last week. I’m pretty sure some of the sounds I heard throughout my appointment, though, rivaled those of the Invasion of Normandy, especially the multiple f-bombs I mumbled to myself after the appointment was over.

We all have our idiosyncrasies and one of mine is part of the reason I hate going to my dentist. I’m petrified of the stairs that lead up to his second floor office. No lie. They’re the no-riser type stairs and they absolutely freak me out! The riser is the vertical board that connects one stair to the next and it’s that itty bitty one board that I find such comfort in. :) Here’s a pictorial for those like me that need a visual:




I know in my head they should be perfectly safe, but I can’t get over the fact that I feel like if I walk too hard or have that extra bite of cake at dinner, I might break one and fall to my death! Ugh. And because of this, I’m always faced with two options as I enter the building: do I run really fast up the stairs and to get to the top ASAP, or do I gingerly step on them in hopes of not putting too much quick movement on them? What to do, what to do…maybe find a new dentist??

And now that my anxiety level is soaring after finally making it to the second floor, why not push it completely off the charts by getting a cavity filled?! Joy. Here’s just a few highlights of the chaos that ensued:

• As I’m hearing the drilling, buzzing, and swishing around of water in my mouth, my dentist quickly stopped for a second to turn his head…..and sneeze. Ummm…yeah. Because I close my eyes the entire time I’m in “the chair” (even for cleanings) I don’t know how he sneezed. But I’m guessing it’s better I don’t know. Do you think he sneezed into his elbow like Obama and the H1N1 people want us to? Or did he sneeze into his latex gloved hand that returned to my mouth seconds later? Definitely better off not knowing…

• Once the shrill of the drill and accoutrements settled down for a second, all I could focus on was this weird ticking noise I could hear. No joke – sounded just like a ticking time bomb! This went on for the duration of the appt. Nothing like helping my anxiety, doc.

• As the pain got more intense I thought to myself, “Anne, don’t let this guy off easy!” So mainly because I had nothing better to do, I contorted what facial muscles I still had control of into what I thought would be the most gruesome look on my face to express my general displeasure of the situation. And it worked! I got an immediate “I’m sorry! I’m trying to hurry.” Gotcha! But just in case he was yanking my chain and he wasn’t hurrying, I kept my face contorted until the procedure ended. I may have just given myself a few extra wrinkle lines, but it was worth it. Two can play this game, doc.

• FINALLY, I was done. As I’m hurrying to gather my purse and get the hell out of dodge, the perky hygienist was all, “Go enjoy the sunshine!” and I’m all, “How about some cocktails instead?” I got a strange look and an awkward chuckle. Score.

Pity party of one, your table is now ready…

• And last, because my mouth/lips went through the Invasion of Anne for the previous 30-45 minutes, I went to put on some of my trusty Chapstick in the car. Bad part? My whole bottom half of my face was numb so I’m fairly certain I completely overshot my lips and got some cheek action, too. Sweet. I probably looked like this (minus the red color since mine was thankfully clear):

Note to self: Begin flossing more regularly IMMEDIATELY to avoid a repeat of this event.

~as

Safety glasses required

Nothing kicks off a Friday morning like jamming to some old school ‘NSync on the way to work. Oh yeah! And because blaring the classic tunes of Pop and Bye, Bye, Bye at ear piercing levels wasn’t enough, I added car dancing into the mix. I can only imagine what I must look like. Wait, what am I saying?!? I'm sure I looked awesome!!! Arms flailing and head bopping, I’m surprised my sweet moves didn’t cause a collision. Speaking of which, I better tame down my slick moves. I would hate to get arrested for being so sweet that I cause a distraction. (In all actuality, I’m more surprised that my uncoordinated ass doesn’t somehow manage to poke out my own eye…) Good times. Oh, and check out JT’s interesting apparel choice…ohhh, back in the days before all this Viking nonsense happened.




In other news, it’s that time of the month again. No, not THAT. Sickos. It’s the Blood Center of Wisconsin’s blood drive in our office building. Despite almost fainting on multiple occasions, I’m still a loyal giver. But as I walked past their entourage of gurneys, needles, and blood thirsty nurses this morning, I had to wonder:

Is it bad that 60% of the reason I donate is for the altruistic gesture of giving to others in need while the other 40% is because I salivate when thinking of the post-donation scrumptious chocolate chip muffins, soda, and other random goodies I will be given to bring my sugar levels back up to normal?

Nah. I’m 60% good! We’re a democratic society, right? Majority rules and non-donators drool.

And why do 80% of my postings revolve around food? Huh.

I went out last night for some good friends’ birthday. Yes, I said friends (plural) – they’re twins. And NO they will not have a twin sandwich with you nor have they tried to do the old switcheroo with one another ala Parent Trap style. Knowing them for as long as I have, even I am getting tired of hearing them field these questions. HA! Anyway, one thing I realized last night is that although I might be 30 years old now and not happy about it, I will always be younger than my friends. Suckers! Those dirty dogs gave me hell the first 21 years of my life for always being the runt of the litter. Now what’s up. I’ve finally got the upper hand. :) Other lesson? Sombreros are nothing but trouble.

Peace out for now, homies.

~as

Just a number? The jury's still out.

*tear* I’m thirty freakin’ years old. Jeez. I might as well make my “arrangements” now. I think eventually I’ll warm to the idea of being old as molasses, but for the moment it’s still an open wound.


Other birthday news? I didn’t chicken out! I chopped off about 6 or 7 inches of my hair! (See this post for details.) I meant to have another one or two inches chopped off, but my stylist stopped after hacking off that much. Either way, it totally worked out. So far, I’m really glad I went through with it. Now this might come as a shock to you all…brace yourself…but a lot of things I say I’m going to do don’t actually come to fruition. I’m a big thinker with big ideas, but I need to work on my follow through. Ha! Score one for Anne for following through on something I said I was going to do! :) Speaking of big ideas…

My get rich quick idea of the week? Well, it’s not really “quick” per say. I should write a book! (Insert your own eye roll here.) I like writing. Check. I would LOVE to get published. Check. Now I just need a good idea…hmmm…I knew there would be a roadblock somewhere. I’m going to ignore that roadblock much like I ignore my school loan debt. Hey, there’s a thought! My book proceeds could pay off my school loans! Score. After all, college is where I learned my mad writing skillzzzz. It would only be fitting, right? AND I could write it on my snazzy new laptop Eric just bought me for my birthday!!! Oh, book ideas…where are you???

P.S. – poor Eric. I think he knew he had to “go big or go home” with my bday gift this year. I was in a fragile state of mind this year with the whole turning ancient thing and whatnot. I think he knew my birthday happiness this year could definitely be bought. :) Solid choice with the laptop, Eric, solid choice.

~as

Is there a candy version of the Hamburglar???

The vendor du jour in our lovely office building that’s selling crap no one really needs is a candy and nut company. While completely unnecessary…completely delicious! From gummy bears to nuts to chocolate covered coffee beans, they’ve got it all. This, in my humble opinion, is by far the best vendor our building allows through the doors. And not because they sell food (which is one of my favorite things in the whole world), but because they give free samples!! The samples are clearly meant to lure victims, I mean customers, over to their lovely display of deliciousness. I, however, do not purchase from them. Why buy the cow when you get the milk for free? :) They have these wonderful little sample dishes set up in front of a ton of different selections just waiting to be devoured. And when I’m really lucky, they give out the crème de la crème - chocolate covered pretzels. Those little guys aren’t offered up very often so when I see those puppies, my taste buds smile.


I always have to chuckle at myself, though. I’m the girl that tries to play it off like there’s a chance I might buy something, but then decides not to at the last minute. This, of course, always occurs AFTER I’ve had a nice sampling of chocolate covered candies. Although the end result is the exact same – I sample for free without ever buying anything – for some reason I feel like I must put on the act. To just walk up, grab a sample, turn around and leave just feels so blatant. So I put on my act (which I’m sure the vendor gals behind the register have seen a million times), get my samples, browse like I’m interested, and then make my getaway when I think they’re distracted with other customers. It’s pretty much the most awesome plan ever. haha!

I’m fairly certain at some point in the near future my mug shot will be posted down near their display tables forbidding me to partake in the samples...

At times I do feel a little guilty for never buying anything. But then I realize, holy cow! Their prices are ridiculous! It’s about $8 for a small-ish bag of some of their goodies. Here’s a thought: Stop giving away so much stinking free stuff and that should help lower your costs thereby making the bags of candy more reasonably priced! Maybe then I’d actually consider buying some. Nah! Let’s be honest. I probably still wouldn't. ;)

~as

What month is it?

This past weekend Eric went out of town with a few friends and his brother to visit another friend in Ohio. What does that mean for Anne? A weekend of cleaning the house (and it actually staying clean), dishes promptly making their way to the dishwasher almost immediately after being used, and clean laundry being put away right after being folded. In a word, it was awesome. HA! Although…in all fairness, I tease him about the above few items every so often, but he’s not bad. He helps where/when he can and since I’m borderline OCD with my cleaning, I don’t mind taking the reigns in the cleaning department. :) Another sign of Eric’s absence? My regular presence at Baskin Robbins. Hehe! With no one to remind me of all the calories my favorite ice cream (Chocolate Peanut Butter) has, I took my opportunity to be “bad” and indulged. Yum!

While he was away, I couldn’t help but wonder if he took all the good weather with him, too. On Saturday there was a dry wind and it was about 68 degrees. Hmmm…I get so confused…was it August 22nd or September 22nd? Unfortunately, it was the former. Other signs it’s more like fall than summer? One of my favorite beers, Leinenkugel’s Summer Shady, is becoming increasingly difficult to find at local grocery stores. Boo. Looks like I’ll have to wait another nine or so months to taste the deliciousness again. Also, football is back. Nothing marks the end of summer like a good ‘ol football game!

The one upside of fall heading our way? Back to school sales! I’ve actually been pretty good with keeping my shopping to a minimum lately. Well, that is assuming you don’t count the new bedspread, sheets, decorative pillows, and window treatments I bought to redecorate our bedroom. Wait…what I was a saying about keeping it to a minimum? Crap. What happened was… :)

~as

Stop the madness!

Eric and I recently started watching the television show Friday Night Lights. I bring it up because I feel like the conversation around the proverbial water cooler today could be straight out of an episode in that show! Seriously…this topic would definitely ruffle the feathers of the beloved Dillon Panther fans. “Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose!!!”



For those of you that have never watched the show, it’s centered around a small town (Dillon, Texas) and their all-star high school football team, the Dillon Panthers. The entire - and I mean ENTIRE - town lives and breathes by the Panthers. It’s actually a pretty decent show and I kinda wish I was Lyla Garrity, the head cheerleader character. HA! She’s so adorable and has an awesome name, except (SPOILER ALERT!) I would pass on the whole cheating on my boyfriend with his best friend part. Shady? Yes. Do I still love her? You betcha! <in my best Sarah Palin voice>

Anyway, I feel like I’m in Dillon, TX today. All anyone is talking about is Brett Favre and his possible return to football. And to the VIKINGS nonetheless! Ugh. Granted, I’m not pleased about this possibility, but frankly I’m getting a little sick of hearing about Favre. Just sayin… I’ll probably be in the crosshairs of a sniper on my way home from work for uttering that thought, but I’ll take my chances. :)

I don’t know if maybe I’m just not as hardcore of a Packers fan as I thought I was or if I’ve just been desensitized to it all, but I kind of feel like saying, “WHO CARES!” :) I mean, really! Trust me when I say I really do love football, especially the Green Bay Packers. I have countless fond memories of watching the games with my Dad growing up, numerous Packers parties with my friends as we rooted on our favorite team, and many chilly Sunday afternoons cuddled up on our couch with both Eric and I screaming at the TV as if they can hear us. Well, mostly me screaming and Eric looking at me like I’m nuts…

But at some point, don’t people just shrug their shoulders and say enough is enough?!? I do. I guess I can’t blame the fans, though. I pretty much blame Favre for jerking everyone around for the past two years. Just make a decision and stick with it! With a little luck, Favre will sign with the Vikings, we (the Packers) will dominate the league, and Packers fans can have some much needed closure. I’ve enclosed a brief letter to little ‘ol Brett:


Dear Brett Favre,

Please make up your friggin’ mind and let our state return to its normal conversations of beer, un-Godly long winters, and fried foods on a stick. Thanks much.

P.S. The Vikings suck! Slick move, chief.


Yours truly,

The entire state of Wisconsin

~as

Nobody puts Baby in the corner.

I’ve stumbled upon my newest, unattainable goal. Oh, and it’s interesting to say the least… Ready for this? I want to be a dancer!!! Yeah, pretty random. And not any old type of dancer. I want to be a hip hop street dancer. Boo-yah! Just saying it puts me in stitches...haha! :)

This is what happens on uneventful weekday nights with nothing to do or watch on the boob tube. Mid-week Eric and I decided to watch a movie and for some reason I won the privilege of selecting the movie du jour. Naturally, I selected Step Up 2: The Streets. I’m still baffled at how I managed to convince Eric to even download it for me. That in it of itself was a miracle alone! Usually he blocks such requests as he knows there will come be a time when I’ll try to convince him of the many reasons we should watch it together. That time was Tuesday night.

I’ve always had a fascination with watching people dance. Probably because I, myself, was born with two left feet. I often wonder why I couldn’t have had parents that passed on an ounce or two of rhythm. Is that so much to ask? :) From the fancy footwork to the teenage angst, I loved every second of the movie! So much so that Eric is now tortured every day with having to stop what he’s doing (“cuz I’m about to ruin…”) and watch the newest move I’ve either stolen from the movie or dreamt up in my head. Ha! All I can say is that my moves are getting increasingly worse with each passing day and I love it. Cracks me up every time! I’m pretty sure I could make myself laugh all day long. I seem to find such humor in the dumbest things, and believe me, my moves are pretty dumb. And unfortunately for my dance moves, dumb isn’t like “sick” is these days, meaning wicked cool, awesome, etc. etc. Dumb still means dumb.

I’ve also realized on my trek to becoming a dancing queen I need to get a hard body like the dancers in the movie had. Therefore, my equally unattainable goal is to do the P90x workout program. From what I’ve heard, it’s supposed to get results, but be extremely hardcore and intense. The military even offers P90x classes. Uh, if we’re talking military caliber sessions, I’m certain this won’t last long for me. :) I’ll be back to the couch in no time. And hopefully watching Step Up 2 again. Ha! In all seriousness though, I did the first day of the program so far. Yowza! I’m still sore and it’s three days later. We shall see how long this lasts…

In other unattainable goal news…once again, I set my sights high this past weekend. I was damn sure I was going to win the poker tournament I entered with Eric and 23 others. Bologne! I did not, in fact, win. Boo. I’m claiming discrimination. Good news? Eric won! Atta boy. Oh, and one win wasn’t enough for him. A select group of the entrants played another shorter tournament and you guessed it…big papa took that one down, too. Watch out, folks - we’ve got the next Doyle Brunson in the making! One day I’ll win…one day. Until then, I’ll likely continue to “donate” to the cause with the hope that my cash just come full circle and end up back in my hubby’s pocket.

~as

“…if anyone orders Merlot, I'm leaving. I am NOT drinking any fu*king Merlot!” ~Miles Raymond, Sideways

Mmmm, wine. Delicious, delicious wine. What’s not to love? The basis of this posting all started back on Thursday afternoon… <queue flashback sequence>

I’m minding my P’s and Q’s while I peruse the jewelry fair that has taken over the ground level of our office building. I’m lost in thought and indecisiveness when I suddenly hear a conversation going on between an unidentified man and woman discussing something to do with wine. Being a wine lover, I continue looking at my potential new purchases while tuning in a bit more to their conversation. And NO – I was not eavesdropping. Okay, maybe a little. But what’s so wrong with eavesdropping anyway?! If you’re going to have a public conversation in the middle of a high traffic area you’ve got to expect it. :)

Anyway, it was right about then that I heard the MOST ludicrous comment ever. Now, let me preface this with saying that I’m not a wine snob. Well, not a hardcore wine snob, at least. I like to think there are varying levels of snobbery. On one end of the spectrum you have the snobs that you just want to punch in the face, there are others that are tolerable, some that only display their snobbery on select topics, and on the lower end of the scale are those that might be a bit snobby in certain instances but don’t outwardly make it obvious to others (since they know it’s snobby to do so!). When it comes to wine, I’m the later. I know I’m a little snobby and have a somewhat refined palette, but don’t make it obvious (I don’t think, at least…ha!) and I can still totally “slum” it when I need to without having any major issues with it. And believe me, I know just barely more than the minimum when it comes to wine, so I really, truly am not very snobby.

Back to the couple’s conversation… As I listened in for a few seconds, I quickly realized they were talking about a trip to California to visit wine country.

Woman: “Where were you thinking of heading? Napa or Sonoma? The main difference is the wine you are interested in.”

Wait for it…wait for it…

Man: “Who knows, who cares. Wine is wine.”

Seriously. SERIOUSLY?!?! Actually, that is NOT true at all! At that point, I stopped being incognito behind the jewelry rack and full-on stared at the couple. I had to get a visual on this dude. I mean, really. Go to Bradford Beach, sit on a lawn chair, get drunk off a box of wine and call it a day then. Don’t go to a flippin’ place where people that actually appreciate good wine should go! Okay, I think I’m getting a little carried away now…ha! I just shook my head, took my two purchases to the register and walked away bewildered. And yes – at that point, I had to buy something from the jewelry fair. I needed something to be right in the world again. :)

The next day rolls around and right after work I ran to the store. As I’m checking out, I see and hear the woman behind me (omg…I was eavesdropping again! Haha!) look at what appears to be her daughter and say, “Chianti, put that back!”. Jigga what?!?! Chianti? Who in their right mind names their child after a wine?!?! And then I mentally flashback to Silence of the Lambs as well - “…fava beans and a nice glass of chianti.” Ugh. What’s with people these days?!

After I left the store (bewildered for the second time in as many days), I headed home where I hopefully wouldn’t hear any more wine-related craziness. Oddly enough, Eric arrived home and offered up a suggestion on what we should do for the evening. Make wine! Ha! :) So…in an attempt to prove that wine is NOT just wine and Chianti is a varietal and NOT a child's name, Eric and I got to business and whipped up a batch of Cabernet. It’s still in the primary fermenter with many more stages to go, but in about 15 months we should be able to sample it. And so the countdown to Christmas 2010 begins!

~as

Can't we just skip this year?

Ugh. The dreaded big 3-0 is coming up in just about three and a half short weeks. Let’s all bow our heads and take a moment of silence... And did you notice how I said three AND a half weeks?? Yeah…I’m holding on to every single last day of my twenties that I can! :) This is going to be a hard b-day to swallow. I usually like birthdays, too…after all, what’s not to love?? Gatherings with friends and family and a ton of GIFTS!! Everyone loves gifts. Anywho, I can’t believe I’m going to have to officially check the “30-39” box now when I fill out random surveys and contests (which I actually do quite often…hey – someone has to win, right?!?!). As a side note: I don’t think Eric likes my mild obsession with filling out survey and contest forms because I usually also sign him up, too. Multiple random emails and calls later, I get the evil eye from him for yet again giving out his email addy and phone number. :) Bet he won’t be shooting me the evil eye when he wins the new Jaguar they are giving away in the middle of the local mall…just sayin’.

Anyway, I digress. Weird, right? Me get off on a tangent? Huh. Anywho, to commemorate the day, I’m toying with the idea of getting a totally new, radical hair style! Yes, that’s right folks - I like to live on the edge. Ha! Seriously though, chopping off my hair really IS living on the edge for me! I’m scared like none other. I’ve pretty much had the same style for quite a few years, and at the risk of sounding egotistical, I literally still get a lot of compliments on my hair from random strangers in stores, in elevators, etc. And no, I am NOT paying them. Some even go so far as to ask what my morning routine is to get the look. And yes – sometimes it does get very awkward talking to complete strangers about it. Haha! I’m thinking I might go with a shoulder length straight style with side swept bangs. For any guys reading this post, your eyes probably just glazed over and aren’t even reading any longer. :) But for those still with me, this is a pretty big change to my long, curly look I usually have. And as luck would have it, my hair stylist has an opening on my birthday and should be able to squeeze me in. When the big day gets here, either I will be a little less depressed that I’m turning 30 due to my new, sassy hairstyle, or I’ll end up regretting the change and crying in the corner. It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.

Now just like Uncle Sam…I WANT YOU! Here is a picture of the style I think I want to get, but I need your input. Do you think I should get this new hairstyle? Or should I leave well enough alone and stick with my existing style? Vote now and voice your opinion! On the left panel of the site at the top (right under the site title) you can give me your input. Thanks in advance, everyone! And please be honest. No one likes a liar. :) Oh, and voting is anonymous so I won’t know who voted for what. I hold your anonymity in the highest regard. Haha

Oh, and I made sure to select an image with the watermark on it...all I need is Getty Images suing me or something. Then I'd never be able to afford to maintain ANY type of style. :)





















Oh, and Happy 82nd Birthday today, Grandma! xoxo

~as

Introducing...(pictorally!) Mr. and Mrs. Eric and Anne Stefl!

Our long awaited wedding pictures have arrived!! Our photographer, Caitlyn, outdid herself. We are VERY happy with how they turned out, so I thought I'd throw a few up here so you, too, can witness our hotness. :) Enjoy!

Get a room, kids....haha!

Hubba-hubba :)

Eric picked me up and twirled me around in the air on this one. So cute, if I do say so myself!

I love this one! It's funny...we make it look like we're old pros at cutting wedding cakes, when in reality I was really nervous! :)

We've got a bleeder!

(First let me apologize - the HTML editor on my home PC is freaking out today, so the spacing of the words and lines is a bit crazy for the moment. Sorry! The blog hates my home PC.)

While on my quest to become a highly skilled, confident cook I decided to make homemade peanut butter chocolate chip cookies at home the other night.

Mid cookie dough preparation, all of a sudden I hear a loud *CLUCK!*.

At first I thought it was just the racket I was making with the cookie sheets I was retrieving from the cabinet at that moment. (I’m pretty reckless in the kitchen and tend to make a lot of noise doing just about anything in that room.) As I turn around, I see Eric grasping his head and looking to be in a fair amount of pain. Turns out his pull-up bar fell down and clunked him straight on the melon as he was resting between sets. Not good. I thought it was initially just one hell of a bump, but when he removed his hand and it was full of blood…like I said…not good. Luckily, after I almost passed out while trying to tend to his bloody wound, all was a-ok. He did have a little gash, but nothing serious that would require doctor’s care (well, I do recall throwing out the idea of going to the ER when I was about to pass out from the sight of the blood…ha!). The upside? He’ll likely get a new scar that he’ll think makes him look badass. One other thing I noted to myself was the difference between men in women (or at least us!) in situations such as these: 

Eric = “I’m fine. NO, we do NOT need to go to the doctor. NO, I do not need to lie down. And NO, do NOT get the peroxide.”

Had the situation been reversed…

Anne = “Oh my God!! Oh my God!! OUCHHHHHH!!! Can you see the cut?? How bad is it? It’s bad, isn’t it? Let’s go to the doctor…get bandages and peroxide. I…have…such…a…headache!!!” (All the while tears running down my face…)

Gotta love the differences between men and women. :) Other lesson I’m pulling from this? Maybe this is a sign that I should NOT attempt to master cooking. :) Oh, personal chef…where art thou?

Also, beware...neighborhood power outages can lead to scraped elbows and dents in cars. Just ask Eric after he had to break into our unattached garage to get to his car Friday morning before work. Oops! Poor guy's had a bad run of luck the last few days. I'm confident, however, that lunch with a few bloody marys and friends will help him forget all about it...

~as

On becoming domesticated...

Now that I’m a wife, I suppose I should start making more of a concerted effort to tackle the one part of domesticity that scares the crap out of me. Cooking. Ugh! I’m not a fan of cooking for a few reasons. First off, the rate of failure is much too high for my liking. I mean, really!! How many times have you heard of dishes going awry versus ones that are fabulous?? Yeah, that’s what I thought. :) Also, it takes sooo long to cook anything worthwhile. Once you add up the time it takes to come up with the idea of what to make, spend a million years at the grocery store tracking down the items since most good recipes call for like 20 different ingredients, do the prep work, AND all the cooking, you’re really looking at a significant time commitment!! Yowza. :) Where’s a personal chef when you need one?!?!

With that said, I’m up for the challenge and was put to my first test. My Dad’s birthday was this past weekend and what initially was going to be a quiet breakfast with Eric, my Dad, and I turned into a larger event that included Eric’s family and another friend. And now the menu was moved to brunch. I love having people over and entertaining, but when it comes to cooking for anyone other than my Dad or Eric, I get nervous. Both of those guys have to say they like it and will pretty much eat just about anything put in front of them. Other people tend to have a more discerning palette which worries me. Ha! Luckily, I scoured the internet top to bottom and found a few recipes that I felt would be good selections. Result = SUCCESS! The brunch for eight turned out great and with no leftovers lurking, I’m pretty confident that everyone genuinely liked the meal. Oh, and no one got sick (...that I know of, so also a success!). Phew.

Next item to tackle on my road to domesticity…NOT locking my husband out of the house while he’s out for a run and I leave for work! WHOOPS!!! My bad. Haha! And what makes this even worse is that this has happened three times now. :) I blame it on the fact that I’m on autopilot when I leave the house. Grab my purse…check, grab my keys….check, lock the door…check, get in my car and leave…check. It’s not my fault!! Okay, technically it is, but maybe he should consider his role in all of this. He’s leaving his new bride unprotected in a house where I could potentially get kidnapped, raped, murdered AND killed. Now who’s the bad guy. And that ladies, is how you turn it around back on them. Haha! Score 1 for Anne. 0 for Eric. :) And yes - I know murdered and killed are more or less the same…inside joke…

~as

Travel talk

Our plane ride to and from Mexico was uneventful….thankfully! The reason I bring this up is because I’m so haunted by our last plane ride that I now find an uneventful ride noteworthy. Sad, I know.

I'm referring to our vacation last year to Alaska. The first leg of our trip that brought us to Minneapolis wasn’t bad. Rather quiet actually. I should’ve known that this was the calm before the storm. :) The next leg of our trip from MN to Anchorage, AK was just over five hours. This, of course, was where the problem was. Being the gracious wife (well, girlfriend then) that I am, I always give Eric the window seat because I know he loves it and I take one for the team with the middle seat. The dreaded middle seat. No one ever likes sitting “bi*ch” in a car, let alone on a plane where you’re among strangers!!

I digress. Back to the story.

The problem was with the man that I had to “share” arm rests with (and by share I mean completely TAKE OVER the arm rest and think it’s only theirs!). He was an older man, sixties maybe, and had some sort of issue with his legs, unbeknownst to us, of course. So upon arriving at our seats, we were greeted by this man that just sat there and stared up at us. After the common, “Excuse me sir, these are our seats...would you mind moving for a moment?” we were told in not so many words that he couldn’t move and we had to CRAWL/STEP over him! Really?!?! I mean, REALLY?!? So after stowing our over head luggage in the compartment, we proceeded to climb over this complete stranger and fumble to get situated. At this point, I’m thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” and it’s as I finally settle into my seat that the realization sets in. I will NOT be able to use the restroom for this entire 5 hour flight and suddenly all I can think about is the bottle of water I just polished off. Uh oh. :) As you can imagine, about an hour into the flight I had to use the facilities, but there was no way in heck I was climbing over duder again. How embarrassing! And let me just pause to say – I’m not trying to come down on this guy for his leg issues or whatever the case is. Get a WINDOW seat, dude! Not an aisle seat! Oh, and the best part during the 5 hours was the fact that he fell asleep for most of it with his head cocked towards me. Let’s just say that would’ve been bad enough had I not also been overwhelmed with his heavy breathing and TERRIBLE bad breath! It’s times like these when I question the wisdom of always giving Eric the window seat. Now you see why an uneventful plane ride is good. :)

Here's what we saw when we approached Mexico - so beautiful!

Here’s something else to put a smile on your face...it did ours, that for sure! We took an excursion one day to the Tulum Ruins which was followed by a visit to Xel-Ha (a water park type place, except no chlorine - all ocean water with all sorts of different activities to do). Xel-Ha also happened to have a bike path with bikes you could use to ride around. We figured, What the heck! Sounds like fun! Let’s just say that while it was a lot of fun, it also resulted in BOTH of us feeling very inept afterwards. Let me explain these bikes for a second. I’m still trying to figure this out - although it was a full size, adult mountain bike, they put child brakes on it. Hmmm, shouldn’t adults already know how to operate regular bike brakes? You know the kind – where you pedal backwards and it brakes. I haven’t had a bike like that since I was about 5 years old! Also, the pedals were really low to the ground, so you had to be careful not to scrape them on the asphalt as you made turns. All of this came into play as I rounded the bend on a turn…uh oh. One thing led to another and my pedal was scraping the ground, I freaked out because of the sound, I tried to brake and back-pedaled too hard, my bike started to wobble, I tried to balance myself out but did the exact opposite and started making things worse, and before I knew it…I was off the path and headed into the woods. HAHA!! Luckily, somewhere during the chaos I managed to brake enough to slow my bike down so it came to a stop just moments before I tumbled to the ground. :) After Eric made sure I was okay, we were in hysterics laughing at the events that just transpired. As they say, “Nothing to see here, folks - move along!” And I got back on the proverbial “horse”.

As we meandered down the path some more, we would occasionally pass two skinny trees that would be a few feet apart and Eric would ride between them. Needless to say, I was a little gun shy at this point so I stuck to going around the trees. Well, before I knew what was happening, all of a sudden I hear “CRASH!” and I turn my head just in time to see Eric flying off his bike! He actually caught some air, too!! Ha! Turns out he got a little too cocky going in between two skinny trees, misjudged their distance apart, and his handlebars ended up touching one of them. Whoops! Luckily, all was A-OK with him (except maybe a bruised ego) and we sure got a good laugh out of that one as well. After returning the bikes shortly later (before we completely demolished them), we stuck with an activity that was likely to keep us out of harm’s way…laying in a hammock in the hammock garden. :)

Oh, good times…

~as