The Highlight of My Evening

Shelley, my bridesmaid and one of the bestest friends in the whole world, is a high school science teacher out in L.A. I miss her terribly.

She sent me these pictures tonight, and its the only laugh I've had all day. Thanks, babe!

Mad Scientist Shelley dressed up for her class

Hiker Shelley being attacked by Tim the Bear

I wish I was there with you!

Halloween Bust :(

Halloween this year. A colossal failure. And I'm ridiculously upset about it. :(

Earlier this month I was thinking about all the freakin' adorable, little kids that have come to our door for the last two years. I've gotten to the point where I even recognize a few of them. I was soooooo excited about passing out candies again this year. It is a serious cheap thrill for me.

A few days later I realized that my boss had scheduled the second exam for the class I'm TA'ing on that very night! Who schedules an exam on Halloween NIGHT?!? Instead of running to the door and seeing all the little cuties, I had to sit for a mind-numbing 2 hours in a quiet room with a bunch of my students stressing about a biochem exam. Not fun.

But I thought I could still vicariously live through my husband for the night. He was at home tonight from 6 p.m. until 7:45 p.m. Plenty of time to get most of the kids in our neighborhood. I called him from work and left him very specific instructions as to what to do. Being a Brit, he didn't know about the porch light rule. If the light is on, that means there's candy to be had. If the light's off, it means to skip that house because the people inside weren't playing. Simple.

Our outside porch and garage lights are on a sensor. They usually stay off until someone approaches. There's a very simple way to fix this. You simply have to flip the light switch off and then on again. That basically turns off the sensor function and it defaults into normal light mode. It will stay on. All the kiddies will see that the light's on. The kiddies come to the door. The kiddies get candy. Everyone gets a cheap thrill.

What was so difficult about this concept, I cannot fathom.

HOWEVER, when I got out of the exam tonight and called my husband, he informed me that he could not get the lights to stay on. He assured me that he tried the very complicated light-switching function several times but to no avail. No matter what he did, that evil light would just not. stay. on.

When I prodded him further, I found out that he had spent the evening on the computer. At some point during the evening, he realized that no one was coming to the door. So he subsequently went downstairs to investigate. And that's when he realized the front porch light had been off the entire time. More attempts at fixing the light, but alas, no luck.

So the entire evening not a single person rang our doorbell. I spent a small fortune on goodies that no child in our neighborhood would ever see. Great. I was so, so upset. Greg insisted that he was by no means to be blamed for this snafoo.

*sigh*

So why is it that I get home, flip the switch, and the light has now been on for the last 30 minutes and counting?

I am so upset with Greg right now.

Not So Subtle

My boss just made a point of showing me his lunch. A South Beach diet boxed meal.

Um.... Yeah. Is he trying to tell me something?

*sigh* I need to get my ass to the gym...

I Couldn't Resist...

Greg is going to kill me, but I just had to share.

Take a look at Greg's Amazing Hair!

I find this next one especially artistic.

Greg's mohawk

This is what my shumma has to deal with every morning when he wakes up. Usually he can shower or at least wet his head to tame the wild beast, but while camping, not so much!

Rock on, babe! Rock ON!

Lost Maples Camping

Greg is 33 years old and has never been on a real camping trip!

No, sleeping in a tent in your school buddy's back yard in the London burbs definitely does not count. (He actually tried arguing this with me.) How is this possible you might ask? Because Greg is a city boy through-and-through.

Well, it was high time to throw him into the deep end. When our friends Mark & Brianna reserved a campsite at Lost Maple State Park and invited us to come along, I jumped at it. Greg didn't seem too excited to commune with nature, but he didn't fight me too much either.

Here's my shumma sporting a loaded pack.


Don't feel too bad for him. He schlepped around all the light stuff - sleeping bags, pillows, dried food. I didn't want to scar him right away. But he looks like a natural, right.

We found a site at the back of the park to pitch our tents. Since it was getting dark, we decided to take it easy, play some cards, talk politics and gossip, all that good stuff until it was time for beerbrauts and s'mores. Camping, in our opinion, is the perfect excuse for consuming mass quantities of crap! And we did!


We snuggled into our fluffy sleeping bags for the night. The next morning, we set off on a 2.5 mile loop hike before taking down the tents and finishing the rest of the West trail.

Me, Mark & Brianna on the trail

Me near an opening at our campsite

Greg and the pond

It seems that my bad camping luck is still haunting me. I was stung by both a bee and a nasty, little ant, which was actually much more painful. Plus, when we finally made it back to the car, we discovered a dead, flat tire. We had to drive all the way back to Austin on a doughnut tire at under 50 miles per hour. Very frustrating for a lead-footed road-rager like me.

But it was a great week-end. And this trip has revitalized my long, lost love of camping, and I hope this will be the first of many trips to come.

Quick Break...

I'm feeling psychotic and overwhelmed again today. The muscles in my neck and back and shoulders are tensing up so tightly that they feel like they may just crack and shatter. Aside from the worse-than-average work stuff that has me freaking out, I'm also stressing about silly stuff that should be fun. Tonight Greg is cooking dinner for me and an old friend & work-mate of his that is in town for some kind of conference. He's a French guy named Christophe who knew both Greg's ex-girlfriend and my ex-boyfriend. For some reason I'm a little nervous about meeting him. Why? I don't know, but I think it has something to do with the fact that he's only known Greg as being with another person. Its silly. I fully realize this but can't help myself.

On top of that, we're going "back country" camping with our friends Mark & Brianna on Saturday at Lost Maple State Park. Its only a 2-mile hike in so I guess really the main concern is that it will be at a primitive site. Greg has slept in a tent before, but that's about the extent of his camping experience. So he's leaving the planning and preparations for this trip completely up to me. Fine. However, I really only have gear for me. I have to somehow scrounge up enough extras for Greg too. And I have less than 3 days to do it. Ahhh!

I need a bubble bath...

Trash Mags in Potterville

Teehee. :) I'd never buy it, but I'm sure I'd sneak a peek in the check-out line...

I'm a Lucky, Lucky Girl

Just one of the many, many reasons why I love my husband...


...that, and the fact that he just told me he'd be totally behind me if I ever decided to run for British prime minister. :)

Double Date Fun

Looking for a unique date idea? Allow me to suggest dinner and a concert inside a natural cave! That's right - in a limestone bedrock cavern. The inspired music lovers at Longhorn Cave State Park have organized various concerts throughout the year. Most of them are vocalists from what I understand, but last night was the first ever piano concert that they've attempted. It took a few enormously beefy men an hour and a half to schlepp a grand piano down the 52 stone steps, through the cavern, and into the big room. I shudder to think how long it took them to get it back out...


We, along with our friends Mark and Brianna, reserved tickets to see Joseph Cordi, an Austin jazz musician, perform some of his own inventions plus a few oldy-but-goody standards. After the regular tour and a fajita dinner, it was a lovely way to wind down the evening. If you have the means, I highly recommend it.

The regular cavern tour helped us build up an appetite too. Thanks for the find, Brianna!

Don't Do Drugs, Kids!

I'm crying again tonight.

But this time for a completely different reason...




***** Ok, so I got some sleep and then watched this clip again in the morning. Apparently in order to find it rolling-on-the-floor hilarious, you need to be a bit sleep-deprived and primed from watching about an hour's worth of other funny YouTube videos. But its still pretty cute...

Compassion and Generosity

I started crying on the bus today.

I was reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, an autobiography about a woman trying to find peace and healing after a messy divorce. My book club chose it, and I'm so glad they did because otherwise I never would have picked it up.

Anyway, back to the part that has me crying on a public bus before I've even had my morning coffee...

Liz, the author, is in Bali and meets and befriends a local medicine woman who has given up everything to escape an abusive husband that sent her to the hospital many times. She fought for 2 years, selling every last posession she could find to pay a lawyer, so she could also rescue her young daughter. In Balinese culture, where everyone lives as a huge, extended family unit and divorces are rare, mother and daughter lead a somewhat lonely, unstable existence. They are constantly moving as rents increase and money runs low. The daughter spends all day drawing pictures of houses and praying for a home. And on top of it all, the mother has also adopted two orphan girls, rescuing them from a life of pan-handling on the streets. The lease is up, and the family will have to move yet again because rent has increased. That's when Liz is inspired.

She goes and emails all her friends and family in the States, asking that, in lieu of a party and presents for her up-coming 35th birthday, everyone please make a small donation to help this family buy a home of their own. She will match all donated funds with her own money.

After the first day, she already had hundreds of dollars. By the second day, her email had been passed along to complete strangers who were donating money to help a family they had never met. A friend's new husband, who Liz had never met, pledged to match the total raised. Friends she knew to be broke even donated. By the end, she had raised over $18,000!

And as I was reading this, I just became overwhelmed by how wonderful people can be. Even in this scary world we live in sometimes, we haven't lost the ability to tap into that humanity.

It reminded me of the day my mom became my hero.

One of my parents' friends was in a devastating car accident and sadly was killed instantly. He left behind a handicapped wife with two boys and a young, new baby. It was my first experience with real-life tragedy, and I remember it being such a horrible shock to realize that someone so central in your life could vanish in a split second.

My mom had lost contact with this family after her divorce and probably hadn't spoken to any of them in years. But when she heard about the accident, she, a single, struggling mother of 3, swiftly took action. We went to the store and loaded our cart with groceries, canned goods, baby food, diapers, shampoos, toothpaste, everything we could think of. Then in the wee hours of the following morning, we drove to their house, unloaded the bags and bags of the basic necessities of life onto their porch and drove off without a word to anyone. No note. No follow-up. In fact, this may be the first time I've ever told that story, but I never forgot how proud I was of my mom at that moment. I wonder when she last thought of that day.

The book's story also reminded me of a time when I was the recipient of that kind of grace. In the two years before moving to Austin, I lived in Boulder, Colorado. And I absolutely loved it! I made some great friends there, but I didn't quite realize just how great they were until just a few months before I moved away.

While on a back-country camping / hiking / mountain-climbing trip with three fantastic, heroic friends, I was hurt in a scary accident (that, honestly, could have turned out so much worse than it did). I was uninsured at the time, and my emergency room visit was a daunting financial stress on my limited income. I don't think I ever mentioned this to anyone, but my friends knew I was uninsured. Two of the guys who had been with me on that trip (and who were probably significantly more scarred by the accident than I was) were roommates. They threw a party at their house a little while after the accident - I still had a limp, a black eye and a cast on my wrist. Unbeknownst to me, during this party they were collecting sneaky donations from anyone who wanted to contribute to the Poor Larisa fund. A few days after the party, Sean sat me down and told me what they had done. I was absolutely stunned. Then once the shock wore off, I was so incredibly touched. All of these lovely people, most of whom were still students, and their inherent generosity... How could I ever repay them?

I couldn't, in fact. Sean flat out refused to tell me anyone's name so I didn't even know who to thank. No amount of begging and pleading would intice him. Instead he insisted that I hand over my bills so he could use that money to take care of them. To this day, I still don't know who my secret benefactors are so I remain grateful to every last one of those people up there.

Every time I think of those two incidents, I get a little choked up. And I just hope that when the opportunities arise, I will have a chance to show the same compassion and generosity to pay it forward.

Seriously??

Remember how I said Dr. James Watson, Nobel prize-winning scientist for the elucidation of DNA structure, has a reputation for being a bit of an ass?

Well, he's just taken it one step further. Today he added 'racist' to his ever-growing list of morally questionable political and social stances.

I can't decide if he's cleverly decided to stir up controversy to coincide with the publication of his new book or if he's just a raving lunatic... Maybe its a bit of both.

Starbucks Is My Crack

A few months ago a new Starbucks opened on campus. I pass by it every day walking to and from my bus stop. It has quaint, little umbrella-ed tables out front, perfect for people-watching as you sip your coffee and reflect on your fellow man, studies, or the finer aspects of this life - whichever appeals to you most at a given moment. Inside boasts an intimately lit ambience quietly pulsing with hip music and caffeine-induced focus and creativity. And the smell. Oh, the smell! It seeks me out like reptillian cartoon vapors winding their way through the air to my eager nostrils, filling me with longing and chipping away at my resolve. I will not buy over-priced psychoactive stimulants from multinational corporations. I will not!

Most days I resist temptation and press doggedly on. But on rare days when my resolve isn't as strong as it should be, I make it all the way to lab only to realize that I absolutely need my fix. I fight it briefly and with little heart until eventually I realize the futility of the struggle and give in. Who am I kidding? I accept my limitations. I take that long walk of shame back to the shop, stand in line with the 20-or-so other addicts, and order another hit.

I can't help but feel a bit ridiculous and pretentious as I look my dealer in the eye and order a grande sugar-free, fat-free caramel macchiato or the equally addictive venti mocha frappaccuni light. A drink requiring more than two descriptive adjectives seems overly fussy and decadent to me, a little like wearing a slinky, sequined cocktail dress to a party where everyone else is in jeans and t-shirts. Its complete overkill. And its also slightly embarassing.

In my rational mind, I know I can get the same fix from the perfectly free coffee brewed right there in my office. And yet, it just does not hold the same appeal. Why must I love my $4-a-cup coffee so? WHY?

Premarital Deception

Before I was married and even before I had met someone remotely marry-able (that's a word, right), I had stipulations and requirements.

1. He had to be liberal and open-minded.
2. He had to possess a generous spirit.
3. He had to be adventurous.
4. He must have no PDA hang-ups.
5. He absolutley, positively could not be a sports fanatic - no football, baseball, basketball, Nascar, etc, etc. I was having none of it. I wasn't willing to share my husband with the television during various sports seasons.

I guess I didn't count on marrying a Brit.

Greg met all of my requirements, especially in the sports department. Being a Brit, he had no interest in football, baseball, basketball, Nascar, etc, etc. What I hadn't counted on was his undying love of all sports un-American. Formula 1, soccer, cricket - these are all sports that were off my radar. Its not that they're really un-American. Its just that Americans typically don't consider these major spectator sports. At least, not compared to Europeans. So this little slice of Greg slid past me undetected until it was too late.

Only after I was hooked, did his fanaticism shine through. Only then did I get a glimpse of the rabid, screaming, jumping, pumping, crazed lunatic that was my husband during Watford soccer matches or following Lewis Hamilton during Formula 1 races. This week-end I had another surprise. England played against France in the Rugby World Cup semi-finals. I was rudely woken by Greg's high-pitched screams as England scored a tri (?) within the first few minutes of the game. Then I received 5-minute reports on the progress. Not that I understood what the hell he was saying to me, but apparently it was important to him that I know these things. When his tone was glum, my job was to give him a conciliatory Ah, babe, that sucks! And when he sounded giddy and excited, I was to yell WooHoo! up to him. It seemed to work.

Anyway, England fell behind and stayed there for most of the game. Only in the last few minutes, did they turn it around and score again to win! At this moment as I looked up into our loft office, this is what I witnessed:


See! Doesn't he look absolutely maniacal here? How did I not see this before? How did he keep it hidden?

Well, regardless, its definitely too late now. All I can hope for at this point is that it doesn't spread to football, baseball, basketball, Nascar, etc, etc... Wish me luck. I think I'm going to need it.

If Only I Wasn't a Muggle...

I'm a Gryffindor!

(That's a special one for you, Mel.)

Swiped from the Nest girls...

Life's Tough 'Round These Parts

Lani's bonding time with daddy

Gomez stealing that fresh, clean smell from my sheets.



I'm sure that's more comfortable than it looks...



That is definitely an up-to-no-good grin...
What crime has he committed to make him seem so pleased with himself?

Wide Load

I finally did it. I set the alarm for 6 a.m. I rolled my ever-widening arse out of bed. I threw on my cutesy running skirt. And I went for a run.

Hallelujah!

I was starting to think I was physically incapable of consciousness before 7 a.m. In the hopes of getting into some kind of healthy routine, I've been setting the alarm for six at least a couple of times per week for the past few months. But 6 a.m. just goes against my very nature. I've been a night owl ever since I was old enough to ignore my mom's bedtime instructions and its just stuck.

But I really love it when I do (rarely) manage the early mornings. There's such a sense of accomplishment there. And I love how everyone in our neighborhood is so friendly during those pre-dawn hours. Not to mention that its October and still so hot and muggy here. Ugh.

So I ran a 5K in just under 29 minutes in our very hilly neighborhood, which puts me at 9:14/mile. I can definitely improve on that...

...if I can just manage the arse-rolling-out-of-bed part.

Peaceful Protest

The ugly couch is now banished to the garage awaiting its fate - bulk trash removal day.

Mr Gomez has voiced his protest in the form of periodic sit-ins.

Where's Waldo Gomez?

Every time he escapes to the "man cave", I return later to find him sacked out on the couch as happy as can be, usually in the middle of a nap. When I try coaxing him back into the house, he just looks at me with an utterly uninterested, lazy loll of the head as if challenging me to resist that contented ball of fluffiness and physically peel him away from his ugly, 70's couch/scratching post.

He will take it badly.

Mazel Tov!

Yesterday I experienced my first Jewish wedding, and I have to say, it was fabulous! Our friends Beth and Glenn tied the knot at the Omni Hotel in downtown Austin under an elegant chuppah with the hilarious Rabbi David Komerofsky. It was a most entertaining ceremony, with much respect paid to Beth's freakish organizational skills. I swear, there has never been a more relaxed, composed bride than Beth. She's had everything under complete control from day 1 with no complaints, freak-outs, or whining. Tim and Shelley, my bridesmaid, flew in from L.A. - she was a bridesmaid for Beth too - to stay with us for the week-end, and we were just in awe of that girl. We had been crazed disasters of brides and simply couldn't understand this lack of last minute frenzy. I tip my hat to you, madam.

After the ceremony, we took a short walk down 6th Street for the reception at the Thistle Cafe, where they had booked the entire place for the evening. They had an awesome band, morphing Prince, Nirvana, Radiohead, and Guns n' Roses songs into their lounge music counterparts - an impressive task if you think about it. Lots of drinks, dancing, and scrumptious, little nibblies.

Alisha, Shelley, me, Tim and Brad enjoying our Mexican martinis and wine a little too much...

Glenn's brother gave a best man speech that left me a little teary and somewhat scarred when he revealed a childhood story of Glenn's naked towel-snapping tantrum as a young buck. That image is going to be hard to overcome from now on when Glenn's dashing around on the soccer field.

I had never actually seen it in action, but we also experienced the whole chair-lifting of the bride, groom and parents. I think I'd be more than a little nervous about that one (although Shelley informed me that Beth weighs all of 4 pounds, and she should know since she had to practically carry Beth back to her room in Vegas during a particularly heavy night at the bachelorette week-end.) More dancing, entirely too many drinks, and sore tootsies from my heels - we had a great time. We sent them off under a canopy of sparklers into their decorated pedicab...

...And proceeded to share a few after-party drinks at the Belmont but not for long... the alcohol coma was already kicking in.

I had a slight headache this morning but it was a small price to pay for a great party. :)

The only sucky thing about this week-end was saying goodbye to Shelley and Tim this morning. I hate that! (I miss you guys terribly and am seriously contemplating sabotaging your return plans during your next visit. Consider yourself warned.)

Anyway, Beth and Glenn are off for the next week visiting Mau'i and Kaua'i on their honeymoon. Have fun, guys. And hurry back. We need all the help we can get out on the fields... :)

Dreaded Boobie Sag...

My husband just sent me this lovely article from BBC news about how jogging irrepairably damages the sensitive breast tissue leading to saggy boob syndrome. My immediate response to this:

1. Are you trying to tell me something???
2. ...hence my $50-60 sports bras...
   
3. Some day I will insist on a breast lift operation. So please prepare our finances accordingly.
   

But I appreciate your concern, babe...

Home Renovation

I really should be in bed right now, but I'm too excited! I took pictures of our house this morning. And when I got home at about 10:15 p.m. tonight, I found our house completely transformed! First of all, we painted our bedroom a very light yellow over the week-end.

But it looks kinda blah until you replace that ugly carpet with lovely hickory floors...

This is how our dining area looked when I left this morning...

And here it is now!

Our living room before...

And after!

As you can see, the kitties have already staked a claim on the Turkish rug we got for our wedding but haven't had a chance to use until now. I don't think they appreciate losing their 700-square-foot scratching pad. We're going to have to invest in some fantastic posts so they don't take their frustrations out on the furniture.

Anyway, look at our floors! I can't believe these were installed in under 7 hours today. If Greg and I had done it ourselves, which was our original plan, it would have taken months of our lives, lots of fights, blood, sweat and tears. I'm glad I caved on this one.


What's next? New couches! We ordered this model in a light khaki with the matching loveseat. Its made in a kittie-claw-resistant (hopefully) soft microfiber and is due to arrive in 2-4 weeks.


We might have a ritual burning of the old, ripped-to-shreds, brown plaid 70's couch that I've been dying to unload for years. For years. No other grad students should be subjected to that couch. Its made it through almost 4 decades. It deserves to be put out of its misery. I told Greg that once it left our living room, it wasn't coming back in and thankfully he agreed.

Our house is finally coming together. We're two years into home ownership so I think we're doing pretty well. :)

Ok, I'd love to just sit here and stare at the floors, but I think I'm getting high from all the adhesive fumes so I'm turning in. Hopefully we'll be sleeping back in our big bed by tomorrow night.

Sweet dreams!

Headless Chickens

G and I had a busy week-end.

We spent Friday and Saturday moving the last of our bedroom furniture and most of our dining and living room pieces into the garage in preparation for our new floors (being installed right this very minute!). Its amazing to realize how much furniture we've accumulated. When did that happen?

On Sunday, we ran the dreaded Silicon Labs Relay Marathon. I stupidly recruited about 15 friends to form 3 teams for this race months ago. Of course, at the time I fully intended to train for the 12K (7.5 miles) I would run and the 10K (6.2 miles) that Greg was signed up for. And naturally, it just didn't happen. I think I'd run twice since getting back from Portugal, and both times I struggled to get past one mile. Greg was marginally better at training but not by much. It was hot and sticky on Sunday morning, threatening to rain but with no real follow-through. We didn't hold out much hope for a good showing.

I was ready to consider myself lucky if I pulled off 11-minute-miles. Greg wanted to finish in under an hour. Imagine our surprise when we saw our times! I actually pulled off 9:35/mile - how is that possible??? And Greg finished in 1:01:06.4, which would have been disappointing except we found out that the course was over half a mile too long so his overall pace was 8:59/mile! That's a new personal best for him! Good for you, babe! I can't believe we were physically capable of those times.

Well, needless to say, we were wiped out after our runs but stuck around to cheer on our teammates. We had a great time catching up with everyone.

No rest for the wicked. After everyone crossed the finish line, we went straight home, showered and hit a few furniture stores (6 in all) in search of the perfect couches. Our last stop was Gage Furniture. We've never had much luck there, but I forced Greg to just go look with me, and we actually found ones we loved AND at about 50% off. Score! Another big, but necessary, purchase.

We shot back home and finished painting our bedroom. And by "we", I mean me. But I appreciate the emotional support of Greg sitting in a chair in the middle of the room to spend time with me. Meanwhile I was crouched on the floor, swearing up a storm while picking bugs, cat hairs and Larisa hairs out of the wet paint. Ugh. No more painting! Please!

We also moved the last remnants of furniture into the garage. Our house hasn't been this bare since we moved in 2 years ago. Its odd. But hopefully it will be to good effect.