All Dolled Up

Maebe Funke and George Michael
from Arrested Development (funny, funny show)

Happy Halloween everyone! I am quite excited because this will be the first year we actually get trick-or-treaters. Which means that we get to give out candy. And that means there is potential for left-over candy. And that means excitement because I stocked up and will not feel guilty to holding on to that second bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to the bitter end!

Other candy we will be giving out: Tootsie Rolls, Crunch bars and Starburst. All delicious in my opinion. All in all, Halloween is a brilliant holiday. Even for dentists. I mean they may recommend not eating such sugary goodness, but they must make a killing off of it.

Excommunicated

My identity has been erased and I'm quite perturbed.

Somehow it has already been five years since I graduated from Carleton. Well, not quite, it will be in June, but they have already started to send us reminders and whatnot for it. Well, last week I received a letter (that did not really ring true to my Carleton experience but whatever) and a lovely reunion directory of all '02 graduates. As I flip through I come to the D's and see that the meredoerr is not listed. Ok, fine, they messed up. So they didn't have me listed under my maiden name like everyone else. Fine. So then I look in section three, which is specifically for cross-referencing birth names (i.e. your name while at college) to new names. And I'm still not there. Twenty-three ladies with name changes are listed, but I'm not. Did I not exist at Carleton? Not under the name they have for me, that's for sure. Maybe I'm overreacting but this pissed me off.

Carleton, give the meredoerr her respect.

Pumpkin Party!

It has been a long time since I have carved a pumpkin. For sure not since college and I don't recall it even in college. So I was super psyched to hear that some of my other lady friends were up for some pumpkin carving fun! After dining on a very non-holiday appropriate feast of tacos, we inaugurated our new deck with pumpkin guts and seeds. It was great, even if somewhat chilly. We also discovered that the deck does not have ideal lighting for knife wielding, so the lovely pole that appears to be coming out of my head is actually a floor lamp we dragged up from the basement. Thank goodness for outdoor outlets.

I tried to express the greatness of this event on my dear pumpkin. Drew on the other hand tried to express his GREAT displeasure of the pumpkin smell. Can you guess which pumpkins are mine and Drew's? (I'll give you a hint. Drew's is not the one with the 'X' - that was in honor of our dear friend Xander who couldn't make it.)

The Work is Never Done

Apparently, I didn't read the fine print when buying our new house. Or else it failed to mention how much work will always need to be done. Whether it's repairing cracks in the sidewalk so that water won't seep in and eventually knock your house over or tearing down the forest full of ferns in preparation for winter, there is always something that is vying for my attention. Today, after starting this project in August, when my dad was here, I finally finished washing, cleaning and staining our deck. Almost three months later we can finally enjoy our deck...while wearing mittens, hats and coats.

I know it may be difficult to see anything else but the beautifully treated furniture, but if you squint and tilt your head 36 degrees to the left, you may notice the grayish, ugliness of the deck. And this was after I had already done...

THIS.

Oh, how I long for sunny days where I could power wash anything I wanted. No, I'm serious. It's addicting. I worry about having OCD every now and then, but having a power washer in my hand may have convinced me that I might indeed have it. Or maybe an obsessive compulsive personality, I'll have to go check my DSM IV.

I was able to wash away mold from the sidewalk, leaf stains, Caper's muddy footprints. It was brilliant!! And it looked beautiful. But then more leaves fell and Caper continued to track mud around so that work has disappeared. But the deck remained, for the most part, free of mud, mold and stains.

So then it was time to add some color back to the gray sad wood. After pain- stakingly staining each freakin' railing post with a five-inch brush TWICE (I'm not sure the second coat made that much of a difference), we now have a beautiful deck of the "natural pine" coloration. The stain can promised me that it will block out damage from the weather. It had better come through or else my bill for my upcoming shoulder surgery will be sent straight to the stain company. Seriously, I do not like the repetitive brushing motion. Ouch.

But it was all worth it. Stay tuned for the next post.

Perfect Day...

...for a football game.

I Had No Idea

So I got an email today that had the word 'tear' in it. Due to our crazy English language, a word can be spelled the same way but be pronounced differently and hence have two meanings. When Gmail frantically searched my email for any potential topic that could be twisted into an advertisement, it misinterpreted the context of 'tear' in the email. It mistakenly thought the writer was referring to being ripped and not to the salty liquid that emerges from the lacrimal duct (I knew that anatomy class would someday be useful). So, thinking that I may be interested in tears/rips/breaks/splits, I am provided with two advertisement taglines.

"Tear Down the Outhouse"
&
"Avoid Perineal Tear"

Apparently, dear readers, I have been targeted as either in need of a composting toilet or a stretchier vagina.

How, oh how, will I choose between the two?

Wanted:

One kick-ass halloween costume.

Anyone have any good suggestions?

Feelings

Feeling stupid for locking myself out of the house.

Feeling upset that it was raining.

Feeling annoyed that my cell phone was on the kitchen table inside.

Feeling fortunate for the tow truck man's super sleek cell phone (although annoyed at Drew's dead car).

Feeling somewhat warm because I had a big sweater on.

Feeling glad I had a covered porch.

Feeling bored.

Feeling the need to be destructive with the Sharpie I had in my pocket.

Feeling sad that I had no paper.

Feeling happy to have friends with spare keys.

Impulsivity (because it sounds so good)

So last night at dinner, I was lamenting our lack of impulsiveness. We are not ones to just jump on a plane and go off somewhere by ourselves. While yes we are fortunate to travel a lot, it would be nice to go somewhere just the two of us. But since I can't even get Drew to call sick in to work, asking him to jump on a plane with me to Ireland seems out of the question. Why Ireland? Well, it's the first country that popped into my head. But then I really started thinking about all the places we could go. Paris, Cambridge, Kyoto all were thrown out as ideas. But the winner by far, for sheer creativity, was a tour of "all the crazy small countries in Europe".

And so I figure we fly into Andorra (or maybe we end there since they have the highest life expectancy in the world) and then jump over to Monaco where we can hang with the millionaires and walk the whole country (total area is 1.95 square km). Perhaps then we could take the train north to Luxembourg and tour the city's old quarters and fortifications before traveling southeast to Liechtenstein. I'm sure once there we could find many people to argue in German with about our differing views on birth control. And then on to San Marino, the oldest republic in the world. Of course the primary reason for going there would so we could later tell people we were in a country that was founded in A.D. 301. The Sistine Chapel, St. Peter's Basilica and a crazy amount of art would await us in Vatican City. Our final stop would be Malta, in the middle of the Mediterranean. Most likely we'd get there on some random holiday, like St. Paul's Shipwreck, since they celebrate more holidays than any other countries in the European Union.

If that doesn't sound like a fun-packed vacation, I don't know what does. How else will I ever visit these seven countries if not in a trip dedicated solely to them?

Hmm, I feel like I may need to do some serious arm-twisting for this to really happen. Maybe I should just work on him calling in sick.

Dearest Weather Gods,

First of all, let me apologize. I did not mean to confuse you when I started talking about my sweaters and my love for chilly weather the other day. I was simply trying to convey my appreciation for autumn and the beautiful weather that typically accompanies it. I'm not sure what exactly misled you, but I was certainly not requesting an early winter. Perhaps this morning you were just a little bit lazy or tired and snow showers were just easier than a sunny beautiful morning. But I contend that October 12th is too early for runners in Lincoln Park to be wearing mittens. I should not have to use my windshield wipers to remove the snow. It's not even Halloween yet. If you insist on throwing down the snow, then at least it should melt immediately instead of building up on the tree limbs, lawns and rooftops. I had no plans on shoveling today, yet unless it gets warmer my deck will need to be dealt with. That's just not fair. I mean if there is shoveling to do, at least let Drew be home to help me with it. Now I understand it's not your fault that the lite was playing "It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas", however they would not have played it had skyscrapers and high-rises not been obscured by the wintry weather you insisted on producing this morning.

So I am going to assume this was just a big miscommunication and that you will be back in the game tomorrow. I'm looking forward to feeling the warmth of the sun on my face again.

Sincerely,
the meredoerr

A Happy Anniversary

Is there anything better than a musical? How can people singing and dancing not make you smile and want to join in? Even shy little old me gets inspired to get up on the stage and sing when I am at a show.

We saw Wicked yesterday and it was great! I so wish I could have seen it when Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth were in it because they have fantastic voices. Not that everyone in the Chicago show weren't great because they were. Go here to check out some fun songs from the show.

Name Your Top Five

Songs, albums, movies, books, etc. Drew really enjoys making lists of his top five and is always up for a rousing game. I however find it very difficult to narrow down (let alone remember) such broad categories. Maybe I can come up with one or two, but then I have to order them and suddenly the game is asking me to name my all time favorite of something or another. Somehow these boys (it always seems to be boys who enjoy this game) can come up with their top five in less than five minutes. No way can I say with certainty what my favorite book is with only five minutes to think about it.

However, yesterday while unpacking sweaters (oh, how I love sweaters, fall and chilly nights) I came upon one of my favorite pieces of clothing. It is a wonderful J.Crew gray sweater that my mom gave to me and one to my sister years ago. It's just one of those sweaters that is warm and cozy and perfect with a pair of jeans. Or at least it was until I wore through the elbows. There are two huge holes in the elbows now, so I don't wear it out in public too often, but in the winter I wear it all the time around the house.

After finding it, I started to think of what my other favorite pieces of clothing are and I found it rather easy. First, my only piece of Tommy Hilfiger clothing - a red and blue horizontal striped shirt that I wear all the time. Then there is the orange long sleeved shirt that is starting to rip at the end of the sleeves and at the hem of the shirt. Both of these go wonderfully underneath the gray sweater. My fourth favorite clothing item would be my beloved Gap jeans that have holes from the mid-thigh down to the large gaping hole at the knees. I often put my foot through the knee holes when putting them on. I am proud that those holes were 100% produced by my own legs from years and years of wear.

So, the top four items were easy and came to mind immediately. The fifth though was more difficult and I admit that I perused my dresser drawers before deciding that a t-shirt I wear to bed would be the item that beat out all the rest. It is just a large t-shirt that has a picture of Daisy (our dog growing up) posed in front of a fireplace, silk-screened onto it. It's cute and reminds me of my childhood and the crazy brown shag carpeting we used to have. Although, it's too large and see-through to wear outside of the bedroom.

I was looking though our pictures in an effort to provide some visuals for my dear readers and came upon several examples. I also realized that my top three clothing favorites have not only been worn in each of the three Christmas photos that Drew and I have taken together, but also have been with me on some very important events.

Here the gray sweater can be seen peeking out from underneath the coat at a bed and breakfast that Drew secretly swept me away too during college.



Ah, yes, more drunkenness was to come and those poor overalls and orange shirt would sadly be a first-hand witness to my inaugural vomiting due to alcohol consumption.



And here's the red and blue shirt on the day we brought our sweet Caper home.



Now you have seen way too many pictures of me and my clothes but now you at least know why I wear those same raggedy clothes all the times.

Back to College

So I have resorted to my cheap ways of college life. Not for nostalgic reasons or for the sake of saving a few pennies on our electric bill, but for necessity. Instead of paying a dollar a load, I would often dry many of my clothing items on a folding dryer rack. It was the perfect way to dry all of my various t-shirts, bras, etc. It may have taken up most of the open floor space in our teeny dorm rooms, but it was definitely worth it.

And now after a week of dirty clothes, house guests and whatnot, I need to do laundry. Last night after realizing that the dryer had been "drying" for hours (thanks to it's Intellidry system), I discovered no heat was actually being produced and therefore my wet towels had just been tumbling around as though they were gymnasts who had just got out of a pool. ARGH. I checked out the various components that I could think of and even flipped the breaker in the basement, but to no avail. And so now all future laundry has come to a standstill and the drying rack is in use once again. And while it's nice to reminisce about junior year, I fear it may take my jeans two days to dry.

Anyone know how to clean the dryer exhaust pipe thingy?

Tired

We had a last minute visit from KWW and family this weekend. My heart was really starting to ache for those babies so it was good to get in some quality snuggling. Although, we are used to getting up a little more leisurely in the morning. Simon has more energy at 7am than I ever have all day and is very effective in making sure we are up. I'm always amazed at how much time there really is in the morning when you actually get up early.

Today was a little crazy, however. It turns out that an eight-week old puppy + a two-year old dog that acts like an eight-week old puppy + a five month old baby + a 4 1/2 year old boy + a case of pharyngitis + 8 people + everyone at my house = a crazy, noisy, hectic morning. Thankfully , I was saved by people bringing over treats and making a delicious fritatta. And it really was a good time, I'm just worn out now.

Still, now the house seems a little too quiet. Drew is watching our Bears on the couch with the two pups curled up next to him sleeping. I'm on my way over there now.

After...

• wondering why the names of all Chicago suburbs seem to include one of the following - glen, oak, river, forest, hill or dale,
• stories involving Eustachian tubes,
• waiting in traffic for 20 minutes only to be turned away at the entrance of Ziegler's Apple orchard,
• shaking our heads in shame at the neglectful parents who let their children hang themselves out of a moving car,
• disbelief that the Ziegler's man knew of no other orchards in the area,
• stopping at a Super Target for a restroom and orange-cranberry stones,
• redirecting ourselves to a new orchard with the help of Drew, Google Maps and a patient gentleman on the phone,
• being reminded of a teeny town in Germany,
• remarking on the vastness of subdivisions and their lack of trees,
• pondering why large communities feel the need to still be called villages,
• deciding to never ever live in Waconda,
• arriving at All Season orchard,
• noticing a pagoda among hay bales and pumpkins,
• waiting in line for a plastic bag that for one of us would break,
• hiking half a mile past a corn maze that had no corn,
• taste testing an apple in each row because there was no signage regarding the variety,
• ducking under caution tape to reach some delicious-looking apples,
• wishing we had a baby to kick out of a stroller so we didn't have to lug our apples,
• visiting the nicest port-a-potty ever,
• questioning the practicality of picking apples directly after attending church,

I arrived home with a 1/2 bushel of apples.


First up on the menu is pork chops with apples and apple crisp for dessert. Please feel free to send any and all apple recipe ideas my way.

What? He's No Artist.

So I went to my first live football game ever. Ok, maybe that's not true. I did attend our homecoming football games in high school (maybe even one in college) but they weren't good nor did they play in a huge, packed, exuberant stadium. Last night, Drew and I went to see the Bears play because Watie couldn't be in town. And it was AWESOME. I did not believe that it could be as cool as it was. But I was completely into the game and clearly that made the difference because the Bears kicked ass. I still don't know all the players names, numbers, positions but I do think I know the 'Bear Down' song pretty well now.

During the game, our seat neighbor, Steve, asked us if we knew the guy who owned the seats. We said yes, he's our brother-in-law, etc. He then proceeded to tell us how great that Willy guy was. We agreed wholeheartedly while trying to correct his mistake. Finally, following a brief conversation regarding the guy Wiley (which I am sure Watie can sometimes be), he came to terms that Watie was a f***in' great guy and that he was in the FBI. At which point we could no longer argue with him.

So, sorry Watie, your cover is blown. But THANK YOU for the game. It was incredible!