Make it good

School is in session and life has become a gigantic foreign object that has planted itself in the middle of my living room screaming "Deal with me- and make it good this time, Sarah."

I sit here and realize there are two possible outcomes to the insane changes taking place: total and complete success or disastrous failure. Dramatic, huh? I choose to look at it this way because I see no middle ground on this one. No, I'm not old and there are only a few grays that pop up here and there, but I have an idea of where I want to go and when exactly I want (/hope) it to happen. Marriage happened. Kids will happen. Once the latter is put into motion I go from "Sae" to "Mommy"... and god only knows I'm nowhere near ready for that.

So much needs to be accomplished and it feels overwhelming and exciting at the same time. There is a complete refusal on my part to blow this opportunity, because I know for certain that someday I would look back at this moment and totally regret not taking advantage.

So there it is. Wish me some luck.

Why marriage?

I remember getting more than a little frustrated when people would tell me that our relationship would change when we got married. They would smirk and say things like, "just you wait." We refused to believe that anything more than the dishes upon which we ate our food would change and vowed to each other in private that things would stay exactly the same.

But something has changed. I look at him differently. I see him in a different way. I catch a glimpse of the new piece of jewelry that he sports and it makes my stomach all fluttery. Somebody loved me enough to commit to me for life. It stops me dead in my footsteps to think about. My strongest desire right now is to be near him- not just beside him but with him. I want nothing but sheer bliss for him in life and I am stunned that I get to be the person to explore what makes us happy, together and as individuals. It feels like a new breath of life has been blown through me and I want nothing more than to grow and move and expand our lives together.

I realized that a wedding is such an incredible experience, because you are completely overcome not only with emotion for this person in front of you, but for everybody that has loved you in your lifetime--and you appreciate how much they have impacted the love you now share with your partner.

On our wedding day, I remember feeling completely calm. I look at the pictures and there is an undeniable smile planted on my face in every single photograph and I barely remember relaxing it for even a moment. I always knew he was my partner for this lifetime, but there was something about the event that made me feel so very pleased, for lack of better words. There we were, two people who loved each other more than we loved ourselves and we were taking a grand moment to say it outloud. I think people walked away from our ceremony feeling like it was legitimately special because it just felt like we were doing exactly what marriage should be: commiting to each other in a sincere, honest way.

I know there are people out there who choose not to marry and I respect any decision one makes for their own life. But I have to say, I'm so happy to be able to make this commitment to someone and I'm thrilled there is room in our society to recognize such a bond. I see even more now why so many people are fighting for that same right and as many who read this blog know, I'm a huge supporter of everybody's right to marry.

My husband stumbled upon this blog piece the other day and sent it to me, which is what inspired me to reminisce like this. It drew me in right away because of her similar team name to McRitchie. Enjoy!

http://meganmcardle.theatlantic.com/archives/2009/07/why_marriage.php

Becoming something...

So the other day...

I was standing in our newly-messy kitchen surrounded by a sea of dishes, mugs, and electrics. Some old, some new, some chipped, some dusty from their boxes. Two blenders, an old hand mixer, cookie sheets, bubble wrap, new flatware, old flatware, cats crawling around with curiosity... I was sifting through the old and new of my life and his, trying to find a place for the stuff we had aquired in our most recent merger.

When the mister and I moved in together a few years ago, we took the easy route by just combining everything. You see, we didn't have enough forks as individuals to actually survive a dinner party, so we threw both sets in a drawer and called it a day. Easy.

Several months back when we bleeped around William Sonoma with our special electric gun, we decided we would have to do a gigantic purge after the wedding. It would be like a therapeutic sigh. Repeat this mantra: "out with the old, in with the new," but it seemed like a lifetime away and we ignored the notion and replaced it with other plans and ideas.

But now the time is here. My orange kitty sat on a box filled with my college dishes while I packed up the simple white plates that he once called his. We now have double of almost everything, so boxes have been made for the inevitable stoop sale and they're filling up more each day. There are things we couldn't let go of like the Highland Diner mugs from upstate and the He-Man beach towel (awesome.) It's funny, though, how something you drink your morning coffee out of can be impossible to throw away. It's just glass with words, right?

It felt strange to part with so many things that hold so many silly memories. I realize these memories aren't actually being thrown away with the stuff, but it feels odd to hold a plate and reminisce our first Thanksgiving together of tofurky and mashed potatoes. New memories will inevitably surround the new stuff and follow us for a lifetime, but I couldn't help but feel, I dunno, grown-up while creating our new kitchen. These moments of adult flashes have been occuring far more frequently as of late. They come on strong as new commitments, decisions, and changes grow out of time.

The old dishes are gone. The new ones are beautiful, they will actually match each other and be an ever-present guest at future tofurkey Thanksgivings and holiday dinners.

My babies will use these dishes.

... several years from now, of course. There's that grown-up feeling again.

Oh yeah, I have a blog. That I'm supposed to write things in.

Here's an interesting thought:

In 17 days I will be flying to Minnesota with two of my best friends for a week of sun, lake, turtle races, laughter, projects and duh, wine.

In 24 days I will no longer be able to check the single box when applying for pretty much anything.

In 25 days I'll be sipping vino in a house overlooking the Pacific with somebody who seems to love me enough to commit to lifelongevity.

In 32 days I'll be back in NY and more exciting things will be just around the corner, just you wait and see.

So much happening in one month. Broken foots and swine flu are forgotten. This is the part of my life I have most been looking forward to. Can't wait.

The value of your life is much less than mine....deal with it!

So, this dude was intereviewed on the morning news the other day.

He was asked what he thought of gay marriage and this idiot kid says "I'm completely against it and I think it devalues the marriage between a man and a woman."

Devalues?...come again? If my two pals, who happen to be of the same sex, want to say "I do" how on earth does that affect my marriage in any way, shape, or form. What a completely idiotic thing to say. I hope he gets ridiculed and shamed all damn day for that.

And if that's really what he believes, he's saying that it's okay for our society to completley devalue people who are gay-- and do it in a much more obvious way than they would be "devaluing" him if they got married.

What would Jesus do? Jesus wouldn't be such a wanker.

Hey, if you're gay, you have to suffer and feel no value whatsoever, so that I don't feel in anway way less valued, because I'm such a spoiled homophobic baby prick face.

Woops!

I have been such a bad little blogger! I don't have time to write much so I will give you a reader's digest on my life/feelings/interests in the last month:

• two months to go 'til the nuptials
• new baby nephew: oliver!
• instruments collecting dust...
• excellent bachelorette party, if i may say so...
• miss california is an idiot face with idiot fake boobs
• heard back from schools-- making decisions--big stuff?
• invitations out, reply cards back, no names. awesome.
• torture is what voldemort did to harry potter.
• cheney=voldemort.
• harry potter keeps getting hotter, right? harry hotter? anyone?
• high five!
• flowers, coordinators, broken feets, shoes, dress, hair, toes, Lagina, vagina
• moms, mother in laws, and secrets from sarah does NOT a happy sae sae make!
• projects, pictures, programs, cards, ribbons, bows, scissors, pinwheels, iron-ons, etc
• minnesota in two days

Homophobia at its best

This week was big for the gays! Hooray, I say. But let's see how some others are feeling:

"... I believe that marriage is (a) Biblical term to refer to a vow before God to join one man and one woman for the purpose of raising a family."

This was written to my friend who plans to marry his partner of 17 years this summer... from his aunt. There's much to say, like for example apparently she feels I can't get married either...or my aunt and uncle who decided to never have children... but it's all been said before and I won't waste your time with a rant. To me, the worst part about these words being uttered is not that they are completely full of hate and bigotry, but that she said it to her nephew. I mean Jesus-fuckin-Christ, if your own family can't be supportive how the hell can you expect a room full of strangers in Congress to do so?

Yes, I could write a lot of my own words down here, but I feel you will be more interested by this:

"There is a rising tide of pink fascism in this country, and it comes as a result of the election of Barack Hussein Obama. Obama has signaled that during his reign it will be acceptable to impose gay marriage on the people of the United States. He's being very cleverly used as a tool of the gay puppet masters. He is personally masculine, has a beautiful family and was used by the gay mafia to convince real American families that they should support him.

And now that Obama the Trojan horse has been taken inside the gates, so to speak, the contagion from within his administration is spreading throughout the country. One state at a time seems to be falling. Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa, California is teetering on the brink. Will Texas be next? Will Obama say that in order to make up for the oppression caused by slavery that the Deep South will now have to accept gay marriage under duress? Is this a sexual reconstruction of the entire country? Don't ask, because Obama won't tell," - Michael Savage, WorldNet Daily.

Yes! He delivered and it makes absolutely no sense, it's harsh, and it's completely untrue! Yesiree, those Conservatives nut jobs still got it!

Speaking of states dropping like flies:



I'm sad to see that my home state is projected to be so far behind some of the other baby blues. Apparently this Coleman-Franken debaucle is turning us purple. Me no likey. I say we all move there and paint the town blue-- who's with me?

So, here are my words: It totally rocks that states are wising up to equality, but I don't feel in any way relieved. This could last four years, somebody new could be elected and then it's all over. Opposing parties will rally voters until the end of time until they win the moral showdown. Look at California. Of all the states in this country, that one folded under the pressure and people lost the hard fought race. I feel like this might be a neverending battle of rights being rewarded and then taken away years later. It's scary shit, people. Progress indeed, but the race has not been won.

On a happier note, perhaps what many Consertavies find questionable and immoral could actually be a solution to a bigger issue in our country:

From the Economist:

Perhaps the most unexpected beneficiaries of same-sex marriage will be state economies. The University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) reports that extending marriage to gay couples brings tourism, spending on weddings and licensing fees. Same-sex marriage in Iowa, UCLA predicted last year, would bring $5.3m to state coffers and $53m to state businesses. These hard times could use a bit more cash and celebration.

Welcome to the last three months of my life!

I Heart NY



Love, Sarah

The Midwest farmer's daughters

We were in the lovely state of Minnesota this past weekend and boy, oh boy, did we not stop moving! Planning a wedding is a serious amount of work, especially when you're doing it from miles and miles away. Despite the totally expected frustrating moments, (our rehearsal dinner venue informing us we could no longer have it there comes to mind) we still had a fantastic weekend filled with what Minnesota is known the least for: feminism.

As our weekend unfolded, we made a really great discovery: almost all of our venues are businesses owned and ran by women. I find this really exciting, because the Midwest is not exactly the place to go when you want to stand on your own two feet as a chick. Minneapolis is definitely progressive in many respects, but as soon as you escape that 60 mile radius around the city, you start noticing an ever-expanding smattering of pro-life signs and Christian billboards.

Here's the run down: our cupcake lady opened a bakery out of her own home. Our florist is a former resident of the Pacific Northwest who decided to follow her life-long dream of opening her own flower shop. (Side note: She's not only a vegetarian, but she rescues animals and her shop has pets crawling all over it.) The caterers we hired for our cocktail hour are two woman from Minneapolis who moved to the north woods to open an organic food share. Our rental company is owned by younger woman who just had a baby and her husband works for her. (She said she's kicked salespeople out before for asking to speak with her husband instead of her, even after telling them she was the owner.) Last but not least, the restaurant we're having the rehearsal dinner at is owned by a mother-daughter team. (You can blame them for the kitschy name of "The Lucky Moose.")

It has, indeed, been difficult at times to think about all of the money we're throwing into this celebration, especially in this here economy, but I feel honored in a way to be supporting these local women in their businesses. Inspiring indeed!

Plan B

Listening to a recent podcast of This American Life, I was struck by how it hit close-to-home for me... and pretty much everyone I know. It consisted of several tales from different people's lives and situations, detailing how their dreams quickly got put on hold to favor a "Plan B." Many of us swear it will be temporary and that's what gets us through the days of working our crappy jobs that sadly fall short of what we had hoped and planned for. This is a reality that many people face- sad, but true.

J Robert Lennon read an excerpt from his short story "The Accursed Items," in which he demonstrated that even objects can fulfill a fate different from the one for which they were intended. Even inanimate objects can have a "Plan B," creating an impact on life, fate, and feelings.

Due to partial busyness, some laziness, and writing dry spells, I leave you with someone else words to enjoy:

A bottle of pain reliever, brought along on a business trip, that proves, at the moment it is most needed, to be filled not with pain reliever, but with buttons.

Sneakers, hanging from the power line, with one half of a boy's broken glasses stuffed into each toe.

A Minnie Mouse doll, you found by the roadside, and brought home, intending to run it through the washer, and give it to your infant son, but which looked no less forlorn after washing, and was abandoned on a basement shelf, only to be found by your son eight years later, and mistaken for a once-loved toy that he himself had forsaken, leading to his first real experience of guilt and shame.

Love letters, seized by federal agents in an unsuccessful drug raid, tested in a lab for traces of cocaine, exhaustively read for references to drug contacts, sealed in a labeled plastic bag, and packed along with a plush bear holding a plastic red heart, into an unlabeled brown cardboard box, itself, loaded into a truck with hundreds of similar boxes, when the police headquarters was moved, and forever lost.

Nude polaroids of a fifteen-year-old female cousin.

An icicle, preserved in the freezer by a child, which, when discovered months later, is thought to be evidence of a problem with the appliance, leading to a costly and inconclusive diagnostic exam by a repairman.

A gay porno magazine, thrown onto a ball field from a car window, and perused with great interest by the adolescent members of both teams, two of whom meet in the woods some weeks later, to reproduce the tableaus they have seen, leading to a gradual realization that they are in fact gay, an incident, the memory of which causes one of the two, when he is well into a life that is disappointing emotionally, professionally, and sexually, to fling a gay porno magazine out his car window, as he passes an occupied ball field, on his way to what will be an unsuccessful job interview.

A biscuit, crushed into the slush of a Kentucky Fried Chicken parking lot.

The orange tobbaggen, whisking her to her death.

A resume, that portrays its author as utterly unqualified for the position for which she has applied, but which, because it smells good, leads its reader, a desperate, experientially undernourished middle-manager at an internet-based retail corporation, to invite her into the office for an interview, which, although further portrays the applicant's complete unsuitability for the job, provides the middle-manager with a physical impression to complement the good smell, which impression is intensely exciting, forcing him to hire her as a supplemental secretary, much to the bafflement, chagrin, and eventual disgust of his extent secretary, who, during her employer's lunch hour, removes the resume in question from his files, and personally delivers it to the CEO, and is with the CEO when he barges into the middle-manager's office, and finds the unsuitable supplemental secretary standing beside him, crying silently with her dress half-off, while he sits in his reclining office chair, sweating profusely, and holding a plastic letter opener in a threatening manner.

The houseplant, that will not die.

Fifty pairs of old blue jeans, found at second-hand clothing stores, and brought at great expense, on a trip to eastern Europe and the former Soviet republics, where rumor had it, old blue jeans could be sold for a lot of money, but where this was no longer true, as so many previous visitors had heard the same rumor, and done the same thing, creating a glut of old blue jeans, which were not even all that stylish there anymore, and causing the entire trip to be ruined by the necessity of hauling around these huge suitcases full of other people's jeans, which smelled kind of bad, as if those other people were currently wearing them.

The urine sample, produced for the cancelled doctors appointment, and forgotten in the back of the fridge.

My eyeglasses, covered with a thickening layer of dust that I never seem to notice, and simply adjust to, until, at last, I clean them out of habit, and discover a new world, sharp and full of detail, whose novelty and clarity I forget about completely within fifteen minutes.

Your signature, rendered illegible by disease.

sesamoid bone, fuck you for being fragile, you bastard.

Nothing has really changed. This year has started out in a seriously rough way, from broken foots, to stolen bikes, to canceled recitals and workshops that I have worked so hard for. It feels like life is constantly busy and it shows no signs of slowing. This wedding has become stressful- planning from such a great distance has proven to be complicated. It is more than worth it for what it will mean, but it doesn't change the fact that every week I think that things will ease up and then they just don't.

The foot is not healing- MRI's have been ordered, the word surgery has been thrown around, more weeks in the boot is inevitable. A feeling of hopelessness is hovering.

Grad school applications are almost done-- I'm hoping the turn around for the year will be receiving acceptance letters.

My brothers are still not speaking, which only weighs more heavily as July creeps closer.

Things are just sucky at this moment in life. Far greater challenges will surface over time, but for now, this is where I wallow.

crap stains on my face

The last couple of weeks have been suck: hard. I'm sick of having a broken foot and on top of that, other tiny things are slowly unraveling, thus making it damn near impossible for me to not stop dead in my tracks, sometimes on more than one occasion throughout the day, and go "holy shit, woe is me!!"

So, woe is me, world. Throw something good my way, please!

Love, Sarah

Lord, help us all!

This is being passed around my office today:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/28/nyregion/28daba.html?pagewanted=1&_r=4

They even have a blog:

Dating a Banker Anonymous

Can you believe this shit? These crazy b's have actually formed a support group for each other in their time of relationship woes. By woes, they simply mean that papa bear ain't bringing home the same bacon. Here is an excerpt from the blog:

"This whole messy ordeal has advanced my Botox start date by at least two years....since my BF lost his job, he wants to have dinner every night. By dinner I mean staying in and cooking... AND, FYI – chopping vegetables along side your man in a hot New York sized kitchen is NOTHING like the sexy kitchen scene between Mickey Rourke and Kim Basinger in Nine and a Half Weeks. Seriously. It sucks. "

and this one from some hot mistress:

"My married man treats me just as well as, if not better than, many of the unmarried bankers I’ve dated in the past. I would call myself his “girlfriend” in the sense that I receive constant attention via text messages, emails and phone calls, fabulous vacations while he is on “business trips” and a never ending supply of gifts, gourmet meals and affection. I get all this AND I get to leisurely continue to date in search of my own Mr. Right. Win-win, don’t you think? I certainly did… until the mortgage meltdown....."

The worst part about creating a "support group" like this is that there is no indication that these ladies are even trying to help or support each other. It seems more like another way for them to bitch and moan about how sad their lives have become. In reality, this recession is very real and people are losing their jobs daily. Financial issues can heavily burden any relationship, but the most important way to be supportive is to shut up and do just that: hold your partners hand and love them through the tough shit. Don't just bitch about it- do something to help.

Welcome to being poor in the city, ladies, even though it's not even close to being as bad as some people have to experience. I bet now you wish you would have followed your heart and dated a man who can make you happy, without the money.

Again? Really?

I am a huge ditz.

I have tried with all my might to keep this blog public, but private from a few watchful eyes... specifically those eyes that used to watch me grow and teach me how to live. My sister-in-law has an adorable blog (Mccaffrey365.blogspot.com) and I, like an IDIOT, commented on a picture, thus putting "Tiny Tales" right there for my entire family to see. I would love to just say "oh well" and let them read this at their own will, but truth be told, a lot of my venting comes from things that occurred in my past and I'm not ready to clean that up--- nor am I ready to possibly hurt any feelings.

I love my family more than anything-- I would be the happiest girl in the world if I could just have them near, but when it comes to political and spiritual beliefs, I still want to guard myself. I'm a young woman who is about to step into the ultimate independence when I take on a new title, husband, and start my own family. However, it doesn't change the insecurities I still feel when it comes to how much I've changed from how I once was. I still shield my family from that side of me, but it is slowly but surely coming out. The intent of this journal is to serve as a way for me to be more blunt and in-your-face than I care to be with my family right now. Call me a coward, but this is how it is. There are few who read this and few who care enough to check, but those few are who I'm writing to- and thank god they do not include my mother.

I have a feeling I will someday blog more about my relationship with them and what it is today versus what it once was. What a rocky road it has been-- but for the first time in my life, I feel like they are starting to get to know me and loving me for who I am becoming. I don't want that to change.

In the meantime... tits, cock, cunt, fuck, shit, fuck, fuck.

Ahhhhhh.

Transitional Phase

I feel so removed from reality these days. As if I'm just moving from one place to the next without any recollection of how I got there. The streets are constantly filled with faces, but there is never a feeling of recognition as I pass them. I often look back over the day that just passed and honestly cannot remember what I did or what purpose it served.

It's not a feeling of depression so much as an overwhelming urge for change. Not the kind of metamorphosis that turns the world upside down, but perhaps just something to move things along. Only twenty six years have gone by since I existed and it is far too early in life to feel stuck. No, this is not a stagnant feeling- my walls are far from closing in on me and my world is everything but tedious. This feeling is the result of finally taking action, with nothing to show for it.... nothing yet.

The desire to create something more than the tiny rut I'm carving with my daily path has grown over the years, so much in fact that my rut is slowly leveling itself. The problem with digging your way out is the disappearance of time you once had. Time to do nothing. Nothingness takes up a lot of time. The move for change in my life has hit that inevitable point where everything just becomes noise around you. Blurry. Static.

Productivity in life is far more time consuming that one ever expects. My life is not unlike many New Yorkers, since my job is not my career. Any productivity that stems from a day's work means nothing to me. It has nothing to do with what I need in life. Everything else comes before and after the nine hours carved out of each weekday. Everything else takes up more of my time.

I feel completely overwhelmed and overworked, but the feeling will pass. Breaking old habits hurts. Creating new ones could make all the difference.

Welcome to my transitional phase.

Resolve Spot Magic Stain Remover: Magically Removes Spots

Self improvement should be a constant goal for all human beings. Yet there is something about this time of year that makes people want to start over new.

...I resolve to constantly reflect and improve.

2008 was a crazy good year. Better than I could have ever expected: engagement, new house, new position, new music goals, new president elected, and new friendships. Sure, there were bumps along the road, but nothing too intense. Nothing we couldn't handle.

...I resolve to remember the good when the bad sneaks up on me.

2009 is here and looms over my head as I anxiously await it. The next few months are already spattered with shows, recitals, auditions, family visits, wedding planning, showers, and parties. July will be the final sprint to the altar along with a much needed week of relaxation to recover from the last year and a half of planning. Thoughts of going back to school in the fall swim around my head and tug at my heart strings. Exciting things are happening once again. I could be the luckiest girl in the world.

...I resolve to stay this positive.

The bumps in the road will most likely stay the same as they were in 2008. They hadn't really changed from the year before. We put off our wedding until this summer with hopes of a few family relationships mending in that time. Nothing changed in that department, which leads me to believe that nothing will change in 2009.

...I resolve to accept the shitty situations in life.

Aside from the normal wear and tear of life, my body feels good, my heart feels full, and my head craves to learn more. I did sit down and come up with a list of things I want to change in the new year and while some of it is personal, I'll share some not-so-secret ones below.

Happy New Year, everyone:

I resolve to... be a better listener.
I resolve to... stay in contact with people.
I resolve to... play with my kits more.
I resolve to... spend more time out of the house with my man.
I resolve to... spend more time reading.
I resolve to... keep learning.
I resolve to... keep exploring.
I resolve to... meet new people.
I resolve to... stay responsible.
I resolve to... be irresponsible every once in awhile. ; )
I resolve to... sleep more.
I resolve to... eat more fancy chocolate.
I resolve to... continue to stay healthy.
I resolve to... make a difference, big or small.

French Fry Quest Part 2

Oh my how time flies when you're not eating fries....Can you believe it's been almost three months since I started my search for the finest fry in the city? I completely let this fall through the cracks! I bring shame to every salty potato lover out there!

I took a few days off after getting back from the future in-laws house, which was much needed after 4 days straight of family and feasting. You would think that my stomach was done with the consumption of grease, but alas, it was ready for one last dance. I was walking by "Five Guys" while out and about one day, which happens to be on my french fry list as one of two chain restaurants that I had intended to visit. I couldn't resist and had to pop in.

Five Guys is certainly not friendly to the vegetarians, so I was forced to order only fries for my lunch, which was perfectly fine with me, since the last week of my life had been even more gluttonous. The line was long, which gave me encouragement that something must be wonderful about this place to be bustling at 2pm on a Tuesday.

Had I not known that Give Guys was famous for their fries, I would have been pleasantly surprised by the awesomeness of these fries. However, because I was prepared for gloriousness, I was somewhat "meh" about the whole thing. For one thing, my fries were not salty enough and (gasp) there was no salt to put on them, which is completely unacceptable, folks. Despite the not-salty-enough factor, they were piping hot and crispy, which almost made up for it. Compared to other fast food chains, FG wipes the floor with Burger King and McDonalds. I still ended up eating the entire order and enjoying pretty much every bite.

All in all, really great fries. But nothing like the spectacular goodness of Pommes Frittes. *drooling on desk wishing I had some right now*.

So as a reminder:

Here is how each place is being judged, each on a scale of 1-5

1. Saltiness, greasiness, goodness
2. Crispiness, crunchiness, and soft in the middle
   
3. HOT (so important!)

Bonus points go to dipping sauces of any kind that are not ketchup.

Pommes Frites got a PERFECT score (15), so here's what I'm doing with Five Guys:

1. Saltiness, greasiness, goodness---- 2 (wah wah)
   
2. Crispiness, crunchiness, and soft in the middle----4
   
3. HOT (so important!)----4

Five Guys takes away 10 points. Better luck next time, chain!

Can't wait to try the next one!

2008: Reflectiing on where I've been....

My fiance saw this on a blog. It’s a way to reflect on your year by listing all the cities you’ve visited. It’s fun! The asterisks are next to places I had never been before.

New York, NY

Mattituck, NY (North Fork)

Walker, MN

Longville, MN

Brainerd, MN

Brooklyn Park, MN

Minneapolis, MN

St. Cloud, MN

Hayward, CA

Half Moon Bay, CA*

San Francisco, CA

Lenox, MA*

Pittsfield, MA*

Hartford, CT*

Granby, CT*

Santa Monica, CA

Huntington Beach, CA*

Los Angeles, CA

Newport Beach, CA*

Key Biscayne, FL*