Seasons of Love, or my life in three acts
Tonight is Christmas, of sorts. Patrick, Ed and I are going to see Rent, and I'm terribly excited. Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp, the originators of the roles of Roger and Mark, are in the cast. I will try not to pee myself. It will be awesome to make some new memories with this show; Rent was me and Christopher ... the soundtrack of our courtship, if you will. But even as the curtain came down on that relationship, the next act of Maggie began. Life goes on.
Kung Fu Fighting, or I am ninja, hear me roar
Ryan tells me ninja are stealthy, ergo I mustn't roar, but too bad. This is my blog and I'll roar if I want to. I took a new class at the gym this week. It's called Strike, and it's like kickboxing but done with weighted gloves and weighted bars. Lots of defense moves, lots of stuff that makes you wanna go "HAH!" Lots of pain the next day, lots of awesome. I like to shake things up now and then, and this is a great addition to the routine.
Vacation, or Double Super Thursday
Next week we get Double Super Thursday - It's payday, and it's the last work day of the week. We're off in observance of Good Friday, so of course I'm doing a decidedly unreligious thing: catching the train to head to Lake Geneva. Amber's picking me up in Harvard, and I'm staying Thursday and Friday night. It will be awesome to relax and enjoy a few days away from home, surrounded by people I love. We'll go to karaoke (any requests?) and breakfast and it will just be awesome. I can't wait.
I Can Drink the Water, or I'll be damned ... it works!
In an attempt to not be personally responsible for an entire landfill, I'm trying to cut back on bottled water. I bought one of those stainless steel bottles that are supposed to keep your water cold, and it really does! I love it. I will probably get a few more, just so I can keep them in the fridge for when thirst beckons. I may never go back to plastic.
Ch-ch-ch-changes, or will it ever REALLY be spring?
I'm so ready. I want to move the couch over by the window so I feel like I'm in a treehouse. I want Cute Brian to pick me up in the Jeep with the top off (the Jeep's, not Brian's, although ... ) to go for a ride to nowhere in particular. I want Saturday morning workouts followed by Saturday afternoons at the pool. I want breakfast in the yard, drive-in movies and walks through the forest preserve. Spring is flirting with me, but she's not sticking around ... yet. Come on, you fickle mistress!
It's a Small World, or get a tan for me
My entire family is in Disney World. Yes, even Mike. Dad flew him down along with Brenda, our "sister" who helps take care of Mike when Dad travels. Yesterday, I talked to Mike on the phone. The joy in his voice was almost more than I could stand. I wish I was there with them, but I am so incredibly glad they are enjoying this time together. And I hope they bring me a present!
Dress Me Up, or whisk it ... whisk it good
I've been eating a lot of salads lately. Field greens, chicken, some crumbly cheese, dried cranberries, red onion, maybe some raspberries and walnuts ... delish. And then there's the dressing. There just aren't a whole lot of really tasty dressings out there that aren't horrible for you! So I've been dabbling at making my own. Here's my favorite so far, inspired by the fact that I made Magical Fajitas a few weeks ago and had some cilantro laying around: take some lime juice, a handful of fresh cilantro, a shake or two of cumin, a couple cloves of garlic all chopped up tiny and some salt and pepper. Mix it all up to combine it (I use the bowl my salad's gonna go in, but you could put it all in a shaker jar.) Then drizzle in a little olive oil and keep stirring or shaking until it all comes together, et voila ... cilantro-lime goodness for your salad!
Better Beautiful than Perfect, or take your time, Izzy
I'm working on Becky and Matt's next baby's sweater. It's slow going, but I'm still on track to finish by the time we have a baby. So don't rush, kid! And while I'm at it, I'll confess that I'm not knitting a masterpiece here by any means. It's a cardigan for a baby; I don't think Izzy will mind if it isn't perfect. At least hope not!
And yeah, that's it again ... not ten. But I don't wanna just fill it up with random crap, I want it to be stuff that you might care about. So be happy with your eight, and we'll try again next week.