iPhoto is always good for a trip down memory lane.

       This was the first day Fitz and I spoke; it was our second or third day at college. I didn't say much to him, actually I talked more to his bff.

J is super cool; I'm glad he decided to tag along to bible college for a couple years.   

I was probably in the best physical shape of my life on this day - we hiked for six hours and it didn't phase me.
Now I can't walk to the mailbox without huffing and puffing.

This day is quite possibly my fondest college memory. Probably because we hadn't started classes yet and therefore had no concept of an inductive.

It all went downhill once inductives were part of the picture.

This is the first picture of Fitz and I. Yes, he is wearing a rooster costume. 

I would have laughed hysterically if you told me I'd share a closet with this kid somday. He was cool and all, but I wasn't going to date anyone while I was in school. I had other things to occupy my time, like studying.

I was studious my freshman year.

My resolution not to date lasted all of three months. I went to Christmas banquet with the rooster freshman year and never looked back. 

Now we share a closet. We don't share clothes hangers though. His are blue and mine are purple. It's the only way I can  keep him from invading my side. 

This was our first Christmas banquet. 

I'm wearing a strapless dress under that hideous white sweater. Strapless isn't a good style for me. That dress kept sliding further and further down my torso.

Thankfully I was wearing a tightly buttoned winter coat when it decided to take the final plunge. I managed to get it back into place and kept my elbows glued to my side the rest of the night, praying that it wouldn't make a break for the south again. 

We had a great time despite my wardrobe malfunction, and Fitz never knew about that fateful event until our honeymoon. It's provided a few good laughs since then.






Pictures from our second Christmas banquet got lost along with the hard drive in my computer last year. It's okay though, they were the least flattering pictures of Fitz and I. I'm content to not relive one of my worst hairstyles on record. 

This was our third and final Christmas banquet. This might be my all-time favorite picture of us. 

Clearly I didn't learn my lesson about strapless dresses  because I'm wearing the exact same dress that left me topless two years prior. I did take in the sides to make it tighter though. 

This picture was taken a few days before Fitz casually tossed out a, "So when are we going to get married?"

I needed to wait until after graduation so I could graduate with some sense of dignity. I'd long since forgotten my personal pact not to date in college. I needed to graduate single, even if that was only in a strict legal sense. We proceeded to plan a wedding for May 2009 and thus were "unofficially engaged." 

we're not in Kansas anymore

It's been almost five years since I left the homeland and ventured north. I acclimated rather quickly to a new culture and lets be honest, there isn't a huge difference when you cross the boarder, but there are times when something slaps me back to reality and I'm reminded that I live in a foreign country...

I stepped up to the deli counter and asked a freckly teenage boy for a 1/4 pound of roast beef.  He stared at me completely dumbfounded like I'd spoke to him in another language. I thought about busting out my very broken French to see if that would help the situation, but decided not to confirm my foreign citizenship.

He took a step backward and looked over his shoulder, his eyes pleading for someone to come to his rescue. I didn't immediately realize why my request was so difficult. I've ordered a 1/4 pound of roast beef dozens of times and gotten exactly what I asked for (in another country), but as I looked in the deli case I realized everything was sold by the gram. I have no idea how much a gram weighs!

We were at an impasse - the freckly kid only understood metric and I only grasped standard measurements. The American school system had failed me yet again.

Finally the deli boss stepped up and directed the kid to shave off a few slices and weigh it for me. Somehow "a few slices" turned into a heaping mound which, when weighed, was almost $15.00.

Fitz doesn't like roast beef that much.

Eventually it occurred to me to ask for five or six slices. The kid rolled his eyes at me and took 3/4 of the meat off the scale. I wanted to chide him for giving me attitude when his boss told him "a few slices" and he took it to the extreme, but decided to save that lecture for my imaginary kids.

(I have so many lectures saved up for my imaginary kids. They are going to looove me.)

"Five or six slices" turned out to be exactly 100 grams, which (as Google later confirmed) is just about 1/4 pound. Armed with this new knowledge, I ordered 100 g of smoked turkey breast and 100 g of provolone cheese. The kid was so happy when I told him that would be all and went on my merry way.

Next time I think I'll order 100 g of American cheese just to see what kind of response I get.

Ugh.

Hear that exhale? That's me falling on the couch, curled up with a blanky and a can of Diet Dr. Pepper. It's my happy place.

I dropped Fitz off at work around noon and set out for a little retail therapy, hoping to snap out of the funk I'd been in all morning. My only necessary purchase was a carry-on sized suitcase and Winners, as I suspected, was the perfect store for a bargain. Brown with yellow pin-striping... love. The suitcase is for Fitz since I already have a carry-on (and I couldn't convince him to trade for my black and white polka-dot bag), but secretly I look forward to the day when this guy is mine for a trip. He's just so handsome.

And I realize it's just a suitcase, but I will always be obsessed with bags. There is even video footage of two-year-old me in the beginning stages of this love affair.

Mommy! Purse! Fill it? 


And she obliged by stuffing my little yellow purse with those colorful magnetic letters that adorn every toddler's refrigerator. I carried it around proudly and showed it off to everyone. Now I take pictures and show off on my blog. Little has changed in 22 years.

After watching security guards tackle a shoplifter at Winners, I decide to continue therapy at the mall. What a nice surprise that summer sidewalk sales are happening this weekend! I meandered through my favorite stores and walked away $25 poorer, but a shirt, a skirt, one pair of socks, and two bikinis are now mine. The swim suits were an exceptional find. I only had one and it was getting old, but hours spent shopping for a new one proved futile until today when I ran into a clearance rack with tops and bottoms for $2.49 a piece. Score!

The day was looking up, so I headed back to the west side to finish some errands before picking up Fitz. I wandered the paint chip aisle in Home Depot, analyzing shades of green and playing with Martha Stewart's color key symbols. Color chips make me happy. (I may have taken more than necessary as grays and oranges aren't even an option for this paint project, but I loved them anyway. Don't tell.) HD failed to stock the other items I was looking for so it was off to Canadian Tire. CT also failed me on the item I intended to purchase, but I did find two rolling cubby shelves for $35. They were originally $90, but the boxes were beat to smithereens so they landed on a clearance table. I needed some rolling shelves so score again!

As I was struggling to lift the super heavy cubbies into my cart, Fitz called tired and hungry and wanting to go home. I promised to skip the rest of my errands and pick him up after I checked out, but that promise was made to be broken. I walked around the passenger side of the car (an unusual, but lucky deviation) only to notice my front tire sinking lower and lower towards the pavement.

Sigh.

I called Fitz to tell him I'd be late. I called BCAA who promised me someone would be out in an hour to change my tire. An hour! And the irony of it all - I was in the parking lot of Canadian TIRE, but all their garage guys got off at 5:00pm, a mere 15 minutes before I noticed that deflated piece of rubber. T1 was kind enough to give Fitz a ride to me so we got Pita Pit (delish!)  and waited for the tire guy. Imagine my surprise when he was there and gone within 20 minutes... I guess BCAA was just preparing me for the worst. Fitz took the tire inside CT and left it for the morning crew, pointing out the staple that made two perfect holes.

We hobbled home on our donut and now, now I'm on the couch with my blanky and pop. Reruns of Friends and Fitz and pop - I expect that tonight will make up for the less than stellar parts of today.

another day in the neighborhood

I've never been up close and personal with a natural disaster; we just don't have many life or land threatening natural occurrences in the east. Even monster snow storms come with some predictability and time to prepare. You can imagine my shock, awe, and fear when Fitz got a phone call from our landlord asking where we were and if we could see the fire.

Fire? What fire?! Oh, you must mean that orange glow in the distance separating us from our house. Fantastic.

We dropped our project at church and headed out to the highway - the highway that was completely blocked off before our house. Double fantastic. As luck would have it, a friend was working on our street that day so we called him and asked for an assessment of the damage. He assured us that he was safe and our street was still a few miles from the core of the blaze. 

We sat in traffic for a half hour, our gas tank nearly on empty, watching fire trucks and arial bombers battle the flames.

After perusing Google Maps (love that iPhone) we found an alternative route and wiggled our way out of the traffic jam. The radio was giving periodic updates - local residents were evacuated by boat, high winds were making the containment efforts nearly impossible, the flames were threatening to jump the highway (this was particularly concerning since the major residential areas were on the other side), the size of the fire grew from 10 hectares to 13 to 18. After a bumpy ride over some poorly maintained back roads we were safely on the other side.

I related our morning adventure to the friend who was still happily painting our neighbor's house when we got home. He listened with interest, but assured me forest fires are normal and not to worry. 

Fires are normal?! What kind of place did we move to? 

Though I don't think I'll ever consider it just another day when the sirens start wailing and that distinct smoke smell is floating in the air, Fitz and I do have a plan for the next time since it's not really a matter of 'if', but 'when'. We have a list of things to grab in the event of a five minute evacuation and we can sort out a plan to meet up if we are separated. 

Since this post is coming a week after the fire, I can report that the fire is completely out (it takes several days to make sure every single hot spot is extinguished), and the cause was ruled as natural (a tree fell on a power line). One house and several outbuildings were destroyed, but no one was killed. Compared to what could have happened, all is well. 

the roadtrip continues

Fitz and I chose one of the least interesting route to traverse the continent. We saw field after small patch of trees after wind farm after field. Take Interstate 90 though Wisconsin, Minnisota, and South Dakota then you'll know what I mean.

Hay bales as far as the eye could see. 

I imagined myself in a convoy with Laura Ingalls Wilder, seeing the frontier for the first time. I have a new appreciation for the tenacity with which her family set forth to find a new home. We covered more ground in an hour than they covered in a day and have modern entertainment like radios and iPods yet I was bored out of my mind. After months of travel, how did their family survive and still like each other when they reached South Dakota? 

As we descended the banks of the mighty Mississippi and later the Missouri rivers I thought about caulking the wagon and floating it across with the horses swimming for their lives. No thank you. I'll take the bridge. 

Locks on the Mississippi. 

The Missouri was much more impressive.

The heat was almost unbearable outside of our air conditioned car. You can see the haze and lazy clouds hanging over the river. There was a nice rest stop overlooking the Missouri with trails leading down to the water. We thought about taking a walk, but turned around after seeing the "BEWARE: Poisonous Snakes" sign. I'd rather not chance it, thanks. 

The highlight of our trip was just south of Rapid City, South Dakota...

When the idea of driving was first proposed, Fitz asked to stop at Mount Rushmore so he could find the national treasure. Alas, we left $8 poorer after paying for parking.

The fifty, nifty state flags leading up to the the base of the mountain. 

Up close and personal. 

American history is a topic of interest for both Fitz and I so Mount Rushmore was the culmination of our hopes and dreams for sightseeing on this trip. We looked forward to it since we left the east and reveled in the experience for days after. Someday, when we're making another grand cross country trek, we'll take the little Fitzes... hopefully they'll be half as impressed as we were. 

just picutres.

It's still a work in progress, trying to find a place for everything, but this is life in our new house. 

the kitchen 

the living room 1

the living room 2

the bedroom

view from the porch

Roadtrippin' It

There was a day when I would have jumped at the chance for a roadtrip. Packing all of my most essential belongings in a suitcase and living out of the back of a car was an exciting prospect. I looked forward to the new experiences from such an adventure. Now I look at my car and think, "It's totally realistic for me to walk 5 miles to buy groceries. Totally." I am so over the road trip. So over it.

We started out in New Brunswick on moving day then went six ours to the coast in Nova Scotia. Fitz and I spent eight glorious days eating, sleeping, and chilling with our Fitz family. It was also Fitz's birthday and he had the royal treatment - bbq with the family on Friday, nachos and a movie with the bff on Saturday, and a true Nova Scotia lobster feed on Sunday. We stuffed our faces in honor of his 23rd year.

Just one of the many plates of lobster. 

With an early morning departure we were on the road again - 18 hours to Pennsylvania. Momma stayed up 'til midnight waiting for Fitz and I and then Mom and I stayed up until Dad got home. We shopped (and shopped and shopped and shopped), ate with friends and family, and spent quality time with the parents.

This is what happens when you live out of a suitcase. 

(Though my father would assure you my bedroom wasn't any cleaner when 

I actually lived there and had a closet for my clothes.)

So we made it to June 19 and kept our sanity, but the month long roadtrip was just starting to get crazy...