The final countdown

I wandered out of bed this morning and headed to our local Fox station to talk about what to expect in the final days before Christmas. The breaking news of the hour was that the general manager of the Redskins stepped down, so the fact that this segment even happened at all was surprising.

OH, and no I do not have a publicist. It's a good thing they weren't showing my face when she said that. I'm sure my first reaction was priceless!

Toy story

Our friends' annual holiday party, which brings in lots and lots of toys for needy kids, was a raging success again this year. It's crazy to see how this party has grown from seven of us sitting in the living room of a two-bedroom apartment in 2002 to...this:


This year, the party featured...

4 kids, including my two favorite sisters...

Incredible food, as usual:

The debut of this year's addition to Paul's Christmas sweater
lovingly crafted by my mother, who realizes it's kind of a joke:

More than $1000 in donated toys, including a Jay Cutler action figure
and Easy Bake oven, which I opened...

...and this breadmaker, which has regifted itself through our group of friends for the last six years but, to my knowledge, has never been opened.

Baby steps

Chad came home from physical therapy earlier this week with something to show me. Of course when I decided to record this for posterity he was none too pleased, but as you can see, we are making progress!

CBB is back!

It's video time again, since Ellen has neglected the blog, you get another video from me.

We are college basketball fans. I am a huge fan. Ellen enjoys it and likely humors me a bit too. Many of you will likely remember this game if you follow CBB and/or the Fighting Illini. You might also remember the cast of characters from that season: Dee Brown, Deron Williams, Luther Head, Roger Powell, James Augustine and more. That year, IL lost one regular season game and lost their second game in the NCAA championship to UNC.

Ellen and I were able to attend the IL-G'town game here in DC which occurred right around the time the Illini become the #1 team. That was a great win for the Illini and most of the stadium was wearing orange. Even though it was in DC, it was pretty much a home game for IL.

While the season fell one game short of the goal of a NCAA championship, in the tourney that year, they played one of the more exciting games I've seen. This video gives a nice summary, including a 3-point shot from Dee Brown at around the 30 sec mark that had no business even making the rim, let alone going in that night. That was part of a comeback against Arizona that was unlikely, to say the least.

So enjoy. I look forward to another great season of College Basketball. Next IL game: Sunday, December 13, 2:30 ET (1:30 CT).

Sick and tired

I always know I'm really sick when I take a shower and it doesn't make me feel better. And then when I've been sick for a few days, I come to a point where I really think I'll never be well again. Truly. I wonder.

(Mom, you don't need to call me. I'm not sick. This is an analogy.)

Today I had this overwhelming realization - kind of like you feel when you wake up and you realize that you're on the mend after those hours and days of not believing you will ever be yourself again. For the first time, in those moments, you come to realize that you may not be sick for the rest of your life.

Today I got to work and realized that the chaos of the last few weeks was over. I may not be this busy or stressed out for the rest of my life. It was an unexpected epiphany.

For weeks now, when my alarm has gone off in the morning I've repeated, "Ok, hang in there. Only [fill-in-the-blank] days until Cyber Monday." I've peeled myself out of bed and prayed for the strength to make it through the day until I could collapse under the covers again. I work so much during the first few weeks of November - probably somewhere between 60-80 hours a week, which I know isn't unusual for farmers but is a lot for me - that I neglect everything and everyone else. And Cyber Monday, which comes after the chaotic weekend of Black Friday and nearly two weeks of a different research report every day, is always my light at the end of the tunnel.

At about 10 a.m. today, I felt like a sick person taking a shower, realizing that maybe - just maybe - I have emerged unscathed. Rachel and I went to grab lunch and, as we were sitting there talking about life and Christmas and nothing in general, I told her, "I feel like I survived." It's so ridiculous, but I feel like I have. Again.

This afternoon, I crossed some things off my checklist. Cleaned my desk. Planned for the next few months. Thought big-picture. Left by 6:30. Home by 7:00. Walked the dog. Dinner at 9:00 (ok, so we're still late). Bed a little after midnight.

The holiday season might not be over, but it's nice to know that I'm over a major hurdle. Something tells me many retailers are feeling the same way.

My (not so) favorite things

I am going to spend this entire week being thankful for things...and I'm quite lucky for it. But I thought I'd take the time today to outline what I am least thankful for. Or at least what I don't really care for:

• Celery


• The word "moist"
  
  
• When bad things happen to good people
  


• Strings attached
  
  
• Circling for a parking space
  
  
• Unanticipated expenses
  


• Sad Christmas songs
  
  
• Stains that just won't come out
  
  
• Incessant complaining (except for when it's about stains)
  


• Socks that *almost* match

T minus one week

Every year about this time, I think it's so cool when I see retailers send emails or tout "Cyber Monday" on their websites. Since I was part of the group who coined the phrase, I always feel a little proud when I see it in holiday circulars or in emails. But today in my email in-box, I got this:


Ends Wednesday? Hello! Cyber Monday is Nov. 30, not Nov. 23. I considered writing them back and saying something like, "Umm...hi. You may not be aware, but Cyber Monday is the Monday after Thanksgiving, not before. I should know. Please re-evaluate your promotion."

But I didn't.

In case you do want to do some Cyber Monday shopping (next Monday, not this one), visit our website to find hourly deals on both Black Friday and Cyber Monday from more than 700 retailers.

And if you want to get something for free this holiday season (who doesn't?), become a fan of ours on Facebook or follow us on Twitter. We'll be giving away $250 in gift cards per day through Christmas from our retailers. (Even though I can't win, that part has been so much fun!)

Happy shopping!

Why I love the big boss...Reason #482

Our CEO, who I have written about before, is such an incredible woman. And thoughtful. Here's an email she sent to the entire staff earlier today:

As you can see below, I have been invited to the White House Holiday tour and allowed to bring a guest. I'd like one of you to go with me. So, we will have a raffle (no fee to enter) for those of you who are interested in seeing the White House decked out in its holiday finery. Please note the tour is for Monday, December 14 and you will have to be at the White House no later than 7:30 a.m. to be cleared through security. (It might be easier to meet here around 7-ish and go to the White House together.) If you're interested in attending, please give your name to Margaret [our receptionist]. We'll have the drawing tomorrow at 3 p.m. Thanks! Tracy

When I saw her email, I was immediately struck by the fact that she could bring anyone. Her husband. Someone really influential in town. A big retail CEO. But instead, she chose us! How cool is that?!? I'm going to be really sad when she retires next year.

I can't wait to find out who wins. (I hope it's me!)

It's what inside that counts

With Lucy spending her days in most parts of the house, we need to remember to shut the upstairs bedroom doors and two doors on the lower level every time we leave. Otherwise, she gets bored while we're out and finds herself a project (remember September's toilet paper incident?). But with it being coat weather and all, Chad has a hard time remembering to shut the door to the hall closet after grabbing his jacket in the morning (and I'm long gone by that point, so it's not like I can do it for him).

After coming home for several days to scarves and gloves and hats scattered around the living room, but trying to stick to my goal of not nagging -- at least on this -- here was my solution last Friday:


(Who knew I could write with my left hand?) The closet door hasn't been left open since!

Be Like Mike

Chad here. I figured after a week of looking at my ugly mug I'd give folks a chance to see something else. Originally, I threatened to put up Cubs videos when Ellen was laxed in her postings. Well, that doesn't seem relevant now. The Bears? Well that doesn't seem interesting at the moment.

What was interesting was LeBron James announcement that he was giving up the #23 in honor of Michael Jordan. He further said that others should do it too and that the NBA should retire the number, league wide. That has set off a debate between those who agree and those who disagree.

Where do I fall? Not sure, actually. He was the greatest athlete I’ve ever seen in any sport and he certainly changed all sports in a way that is unlikely to be seen again. That’s a pretty good argument for it. Then again, seeing a guy like LeBron wear #23 kind of seems like an honor to me, in itself.

Well, I had to include a video. No matter what you think of the #23 retirement debate, if you were born prior to the early 80s, you HAVE to recognize this commercial. In fact, I’d say if you don’t remember the words, you are likely not in my generation or you lived in a hole until 2001 or so. It is simply one of the best commercials ever.

I guess that’s just one more thing at which the man excelled.

The more things change...

....the more they stay the same.

Chad had his post-op appointment yesterday morning with the surgeon and everything with his knee looks great. He can drive again (woo-hoo!), shower -- although he still can't put weight on one leg so they're pretty speedy, is back at work (hooray!) and has been slowly increasing the degree of "bend" on his little contraption. The pain has subsided quite a bit, which is good.

And Lucy continues to assist. I'm starting to wonder if she is still trying to comfort him, or if she's just realized the couch is a lot softer than the floor.

Full circle

Virginia executed the DC sniper tonight. I followed the whole trial and I knew it was coming, but I still felt this sense of sadness when I heard about it.

The DC sniper incidents began the week I moved here. At the time, I was getting used to a different city and trying to find my way around town, so everything was new. (In fact,when I heard on the news that there was a shooting near an elementary school in Montgomery County, I couldn't figure out why everyone around here was so worked up, thinking that Montgomery County was in Alabama...not a DC suburb.)

During those very surreal few weeks, I do remember - as do a lot of other people - looking around when filling up for gas, rushing a little faster through parking lots, or keeping an eye out for a white van (even though the vehicle didn't turn out to be white...or a van). The worst night was when I played in a softball game and stood outside in a yellow fleece jacket in the middle of center field by the interstate all by myself - I was sure a target was on my back that whole time! On the one hand, I was so nervous I kept bouncing around so I'd be hard to hit -- a great workout. On the other hand, I saw it as a personal sign of defiance that I refused to change my life because of one crazy person.

One night, as the search for the sniper was in full force, we got stopped by a road block of police when going out with friends. And we drove right by one of the final murder locations just hours before it happened on our way back from a weekend away. (Coincidentally, it's the Home Depot we go to all the time now. That incident in particular still haunts me.) Then, as abruptly as it started, the whole thing ended with a relatively calm apprehension in a rest area parking lot.

For all of the victims of this tragedy, who I sympathize with and my heart breaks for, I understand why tonight's execution might bring closure. But I still feel this funny sadness because I really do think that this guy used to be good--I think everyone used to be good at some point in their lives. So I suppose I mourn for the person he used to be or could have been versus the person he chose to be. I wish somehow I could have changed this so that it all could have been avoided in the first place. Does that make any sense?

Creature comforts

Chad's been getting along fine since his surgery. (On Tuesday, they ended up replacing the ACL and repairing the meniscus, so he can't be on that leg for a month.) He was in a lot of pain yesterday but today has been better. He's been walking around more steadily and figuring out how to do small things like get in a car, wash his face and carry things around while holding his crutches.

As a sidenote, the saddest thing that's happened these last three days...Chad was so excited yesterday to make himself breakfast. He painstakingly figured out how to prop himself onto the counter to crack and scramble the eggs, heat the pan and put in cheese and meat. And then, as his omelet was almost finished, he gave me the most pathetic look and said, "How am I supposed to get this plate to the table?"

But for the most part, the last few days have actually been pretty mundane, with me playing fetch (the remote, a glass of water, his meds, a blanket, a pillow, his wallet, his Blackberry, more ice...), except for something earlier this evening.

To set this up: Lucy has never, ever been allowed on our furniture. And she never even considers hopping up there either.

But tonight while Chad was using a machine that bends his leg back and forth, which is pretty painful, she kept sneaking closer and closer to the couch. And then I found them like this:


I never really bought into the theory that dogs can sense people's emotions, but I'm not sure how I could explain it otherwise. I know Chad is happy that Lucy's hanging out with him, and I'm sure she feels like she's helping out. Somehow.

A spooky celebration

Over the weekend, we headed back to St. Louis for the wedding reception of a good friend. Most people I know who have been married the last weekend in October have boldly stated that there would be no orange, no black, and definitely no dressing up.

But not this couple. At this reception, costumes were required. Even the bride and groom dressed up...as Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara! (And do you like the 10-year-old bridesmaids dress I pulled out for the occasion?)

It was so much fun to be back, even for a grand total of 18 hours. What I realized more than anything after our short trip is that I don't want that much time to pass before I return!

Cheaper by the dozen

Earlier this week (during my terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-day, in fact), my future brother-in-law Nick really bailed me out. He came over to wait for the dryer repair man while I was at work and, while he was here, fixed some screens in the front windows. To repay him, I'm baking a bunch of cookies for him to take to the fire station.

It's also a co-worker's birthday tomorrow. And I haven't sent Chad with any cookies for his office lately. So I decided to make a double batch. They're crunchy jumble cookies (chocolate chips and Rice Krispies, the perfect salty/sweet combo) and they're in the oven right now.

While I was baking away, I got to thinking. Here's a list of the random stuff that was in my head:

• Baking is therapeutic. I should do it more often.
  
  
• I'm so glad this kitchen has a ton of counter space.
  
  
• Thank God for Costco. I love buying in bulk. When I ran out of chocolate chips, I realized I had another five pounds -- no joke -- unopened in my pantry.
  
  
• What did women do before Kitchenaid stand mixers? I guess they didn't have to go to the gym, at least.
  
  
• When recording a recipe, make a special note if you doubled it when you wrote it down. Instead of doubling the recipe tonight, I quadrupled it. I have cookie dough coming out of my ears.
  
  
• Oh man, is this mixer overheating? I ended up having to split the batch to put in the chocolate chips -- the bowl was too full!
  
  
• I wonder how Becca (my sister-in-law) always makes perfectly-round cookies? I will have to ask one of these days.
  
  
• Mom used to tell me that when I was a grown-up, I could eat all the cookie dough I wanted. (This was justification for why I couldn't when I was a kid.) Tonight I took her advice. I ate so much, in fact, I'm sitting here with a stomachache.

Score!

My cousin Matt in California regularly sends out videos of his almost-one-year-old daughter, Violet. Even though I've not met her in person, she may be the cutest thing I've ever seen.

In addition to coaching high school football, Matt watches plenty of college and professional games as well. It appears that Violet has become his new football buddy. Oh, this made me laugh...

(Side note: I did get dad's permission before posting this.)

Financial meltdown

Every now and then, this blog is like therapy. But cheaper.

And right now I need cheap. (Chad might argue I need therapy, too.)

It's not that I don't mind spending money; in fact, it's sometimes kind of fun. (See "Trip to Paris," August 2009.) But it's the unpredictable, expensive things that all seem to spring up at once that really make me frustrated. Here's a list as of late:

• Injuries are not cheap. Chad is now going to physical therapy twice a week at $25 a pop. That's $200 a month. And once the surgery is finished, and Lord knows what that's going to cost, it will increase to three times a week ($300 a month). I'm starting to realize how mad people get about health care, and we have pretty good coverage!
  
• This injury happened right at the beginning of the season, so we still had to pay for all of Chad's fall leagues. Goodbye to a completely wasted $145.
  
• Last month, Chad's car needed $500 of work. Now the "service engine soon" light is on again. And property taxes are due. And the registration is due for my Jeep ($45), but we can't pay for that until it passes an emissions test ($20) and inspection ($15). Oh, and my "service four-wheel drive" light just came on too. I don't even use that!
  
• Last night, as a final nail in the coffin to all things money-related, the dryer went out. I took two loads of wet laundry over to Janice's for drying at 10 p.m. and I'm pretty sure steam was still coming out of my ears when I made it up her three flights of stairs.

I considered throwing myself a pity party, but I don't want to spend the money.

Thirty-onederful

It's not that I wasn't looking forward to turning 31...it just didn't register. Really. Even yesterday morning when I woke up, I laid in bed for about 10 minutes bemoaning morning before I realized it was my birthday. And even then, I didn't care. That said, the day was busy but did turn out great. If nothing else, birthdays are a refreshing reminder that you're loved.

As I celebrated yesterday ("celebrate" being a strong word, perhaps, for someone who spent 12 hours at work), I thought back to a lot of other fabulous birthday memories. Among my favorites:

2: Dad says October 20, 1980 was the worst day of the whole winter. Of course I don't remember this but he remembers the weather on every birthday I think I've ever had (the other kids, too). I think this is a farmer thing. Just last night on the phone he said the weather the day I was born was a beautiful fall day (I couldn't help but wonder if my arrival kept him out of the fields on a perfect day to harvest).

5: Going to the set of Romper Room and being a kid on the show with my neighbor, Joel. Holy cow was that fun. I thought I'd hit pay-dirt!

6, 7, 8, or one of those...maybe all of them: Waiting sooo patiently for my grandparents (and sometimes my aunts and uncles) to come to my birthday party. Being one of four kids, it wasn't often that I got all the attention, so those were days to savor!

9: So excited about my birthday that mom made me a special breakfast and I got to open my gifts at the kitchen table before school. I remember what I opened, too: pajamas.

10: Walking around school with a dozen stitches in my eyebrow after I'd walked into a door (actually, the door kind of walked into my face) two days before.

13: I got to have a birthday party with friends over (a first, I think) which included a bonfire, weiner roast and a hayrack ride. Lucky for me, it was a beautiful fall evening!

15: Mom was taking night classes and the other kids were at Youth Club (my birthday was on a Wednesday) so dad and I went out, just the two of us, for dinner at the Packinghouse. They've always had a policy where people eat free on their birthdays, so we just had to pay for dad's meal. The unfortunate downside was that I'd just gotten spacers in my teeth to make room for the inevitable braces a few weeks later and they hurt so bad I couldn't even chew.

16: Dad picked me up from school over my lunch hour and drove me to the DMV to get my license. (Thank goodness it wasn't a Monday, when they were closed--that would have been traumatic!) Though three squirrels jumped out in front of the car during my test, I passed. And when I dropped dad back off at home to head back to school with just myself in the car (the independence!), he said to me, "You control your destiny." I actually remember those very words to this day. That night I went driving with my friends Jen and Will. I actually just picked them up for ice cream. I wasn't exactly what you'd call a problem child, except for a few painful years in junior high.

21: As an RA in college, my biweekly night to be "on duty" (ie: manning the dorms, waking up in the middle of the night to let in people who had locked themselves out, making sure no guys were around after curfew) fell the night before Fall Break. It was also my 21st birthday, but I didn't want anyone to cover for me because they were all going home and I had planned to play the cards I was dealt. After going to dinner, I settled into my room for the evening...until about 9:30, when five or six of my RA friends, who were all supposed to be gone, stopped by. One covered for my shift while the others took me out to a bar. I had two mixed drinks and was home before midnight (like I said, total wild child...) but it was honestly the nicest, most thoughtful thing I think anyone has ever done for my birthday.

23: On tour in Houston, one of the final stops on our BH&G tour. I'm pretty sure we were at some place called Molly Malone's (or Molly Maggees? I don't remember) and Monday Night Football was involved. That's about all I remember. Toward the end of our five-month journey, I was so excited to head home that those days were all a huge blur.

29: Celebrated with all of my grandparents (at right). Every year since high school I get a little sentimental on my birthday wondering if they'll all be around when the next one rolls around. So far, I'm still 4 for 4!

30: Perhaps my favorite birthday. Chad surprised me with a trip to a cabin--Rachel and Paul came too--and then the week followed with several get-togethers with friends.

31: Relatively uneventful. Long day at work putting out a new survey, several TV and radio interviews and a media briefing. My friend Robert sent me a cupcake-shaped flower arrangement and mom's whole class called to sing "happy birthday." Our CEO started the monthly all-staff meeting with a birthday shout-out (umm...embarrassing...) and I heard from lots of friends through Facebook and email who remembered. Chad, knowing how tightly I was wound, gave me a gift card for a massage at a place in Old Town that I love, then made dinner while I took Lucy for a walk on a wonderfully crisp fall night. All in all, a perfect day.

A matter of thyme

Since it's been a dreary and chilly weekend, we decided that chili sounded good for dinner, but we had to get it made before the Bears play the Falcons.

We were in the kitchen trying to figure out what ingredients we still needed before Chad headed to the store. Rummaging through our spice rack, I asked, "How much thyme do you need to make your chili?"

Chad looked up with a blank expression on his face. "I don't know. I think I'll just start making it as soon as I get back from Safeway."

It took me ten seconds to understand what he thought I asked.

Do not call

My friend Scott, who is also my boss, assured me that he'd be reachable by phone for the rest of this week while he and his fiancé, Robyn, put the final touches on their wedding (tomorrow!).

Considering he'll be out of commission for the next two weeks on his honeymoon, I took him up on his "really, call anytime" statement with a quick question this morning.

He answered the phone but his mind was clearly no longer at work. "Why does no one tell you how much crap there is to finish in the 48 hours before a wedding!" he practically screamed into the phone. "Do you have any idea much stuff we have to do?!? How am I going to get all of this done?!?"

"Gee, I had no idea it was that crazy," I said dryly, remembering the chaotic few days before we got married. "I think weddings are like childbirth -- no one who has been there before tells you what it's going to be like until it's too late to turn back. Otherwise you might change your mind."

Silence.

"Ok," he said, grumbling. "I'll take a look at what you sent me in 15 minutes. Right after I go pick out this stationary."

Hot and cold

My friend Linda, who is one of three people who reads my blog, scolded me today for not updating in a week. I must first add that Linda is in that stage of pregnancy that you just don't want to mess with and apparently it's a slow week at work for her. But I'll be darned, she's right.

I do have a good excuse for not updating. Life is busy. B-U-S-Y. (I am actually supposed to be starting on a work project right now but have become momentarily distracted.) In fact, Chad and I are both so busy that we chat online more than we talk in person. I'm hoping this only lasts a few weeks.

Here's our latest conversation. I had just gotten home from work and noticed that Chad was on IM, meaning he was still sitting in his office:

6:48 PM me: Still there, I see.

Chad: yeah, hoping to head soon

6:49 PM need to go see if mark is still here though so that might delay me

me: ok

6:50 PM well lucy is sitting here looking out the window for you and i am waiting for you to come home so you can help me turn the heat on. [It is currently 60 degrees in our house.]

Chad: ha, u can't figure that out?

6:51 PM me: you have to reset the whole thing so i'd rather wait for you

6:52 PM Chad: k

i'm going to swing by downstairs and then head out

bye

I will take this moment to recognize the love/hate relationship I have with our thermostat. We installed the thing on Inauguration Day to save money on electricity (one of my New Year's Resolutions, remember? -- in fact, one of the only ones I'm sticking with). Anyway, they told us to install it wrong and the heat ran nonstop without warming the house for a week before I called the company and they set it straight. Our electric bill was two times higher than usual that month because of their faulty directions--so much for saving energy--and even my letter to the CEO, which was quite poetic might I add, was not convincing enough for them to pay half of it.

So I definitely did not include it in my list of favorite things, which I really do need to update, and was actually quite bitter about this whole experience. I seriously considered taking it back but I didn't want to have to spackle and repaint the wall again.

And then the summer came. And the heat. And our handy $100 thermostat saved us at least $200 in bills. (I know this because I've kept track of every bill we've had since 2004...so believe me when I tell you, this was no fluke.)

That's not to say the thermostat doesn't have its problems. For example, I can't figure out how to change it from "cool" to "heat." But it's not a huge deal. Isn't that what husbands are for?

HappySad

If you'd like to know the meaning of Happy/Sad (ie: not sure of which you should be and then not sure which you should be more of), I'm pretty sure this video sums it up.



Lucy is far too hyper to be a therapy dog. Though maybe she'll be a little more chill when she's 19 years old.

House hunting

Let me preface this by saying I love our house. We've spent a lot of time and a little bit of money making it the way we want, and I'm not going to leave here for just anything.

But that's not to say I don't look around. You could call us "casual" browsers. Perhaps we have not pulled the trigger because we can't agree on a neighborhood--I love our current location while Chad wants to move somewhere closer to a "downtown" area near a Metro--or maybe it's because things are just so freaking expensive out here. Either way, we planned to be here for three years and we're going on six.

No matter how much I love this house and no matter how sad I'd be to leave, I really want three things:

1. Windows on all four sides -- lots & lots of windows
2. A good-sized yard
3. A fireplace

(A walk-out basement would be nice, too, and room for a garden, and a quiet street, but at this point I'm keeping the list short.)

So tonight on a walk with Lucy I saw a house that was older on a nice-sized lot. The place was hardly in a state of disrepair but was certainly not state-of-the-art. (We're both fine with buying a place that needs fixing up because it's a lot cheaper and we'd probably want to change things around anyway.)

I came home and looked online to get more info on this cute little place that could use a bit of work and probably hadn't been updated since the 70s. Five bedrooms, two baths, built in 1925 (love those old houses), fireplace, almost a half-acre...this place had everything. All for the bargain-basement price of $1,199,000. Seriously, who can afford this? (And who would spend $1.2 million on a house with dead grass in the front yard!)

So if anyone has a million dollars I can borrow for oh, about 30 years, I'd appreciate it. In lieu of that, I suppose, we're staying put. For now.

A bonafide smackdown

Janice and I have been bonding once a week in kickboxing class (aka: "Body Combat"). We usually go on Mondays and if we're not busy we'll go on Saturday mornings as well. It's one of the only things I do for me. And it doesn't cost anything.

Even though I feel like I'm going to die by the end of the hour, class leaves me feeling de-stressed, incredibly motivated and full of energy. Life is good! I can do anything! (Can you tell I just got home?)

One of the reasons why I enjoy our class so much is because of the instructor. After observing her great arm muscles, incredible endurance and spunky personality during the first class I pegged her at about 25 years old. "Of course I can't be in that good of shape," I thought. "My glory years have passed me by..." (Note: This is not me feeling sorry for myself as much as it is my rationale for why I don't look like she does.)

A few weeks ago, she mentioned she is trying to divert her three-year-old daughter away from princesses into Tinkerbell, who she thinks is tough. "Holy moly," I thought. "She is in incredible shape for having a kid." There's no reason that I couldn't aspire to her level of fitness, especially since she doesn't seem like one of those crazy-in-shape people who adheres to a strict macrobiotic diet or some other nonsense. And she said she doesn't work out on vacation, so I appreciate that we've at least got that in common.

So a week after the bombshell that my knock-out instructor is a mom, she said in the middle of one of our classes that she has two kids. My rationale was going quickly down the tubes.

And tonight I found out she is 37. So this means I have six years and change to look like her.

As Janice so astutely reminded me a few weeks ago as we both were wheezing and red-faced after class, "Think about how many times we can do this before June!"

Boy banter

Our friends April and Tom left their son for the first time last night to attend a movie night held by our real estate agent at a nearby theater. This event is held twice a year and we love it: we go watch a movie for free; get popcorn, soda and all the other movie fixin's; and say hi to Kim, who we'd use again in a heartbeat if we ever sell this place.

While we were getting our tickets, April was showing Kim pictures of Braden that she brought along. Kim mentioned that she was sure she'd have girls -- since she was one of five daughters -- but she had three boys, and she wouldn't change it for anything.

"When little boys tell you they love you, they mean it from the bottom of their heart," she said. "When little girls say that, they just want to go to the mall."

That made me laugh all night.

A stitch in time

I consider myself a relatively reasonable person, but I've come to notice I have a tendency to get ticked off about something and assault Chad the second he walks in the door from work. My tirades are usually about the dog, I admit, but sometimes about our house (messy), our spending (too high), my job (stressful!) or our dinner (too late). The good news is that apparently I'm not alone -- other people do this, too!

Of course, I didn't really pay attention to all of this until I was reading something about Dr. Phil's "four-minute rule." The first four minutes of your conversation set the tone for the rest of the evening, he says--which is so true--and how you act in those four minutes can literally be the benchmark for the rest of your night. (For those of you who think I'm being sexist, this absolutely positively goes both ways!) Still, I've been really making a mental note on this for the last few weeks and I've started to notice how much of a difference it's made.

So when I came home from work tonight and saw that Lucy had taken a roll of toilet paper out of the bathroom and made a nest with it, just like last week, because we had forgotten to shut the door -- again -- I waited until Chad had been home for 4 minutes and 1 second to point it out. And even then I was nice about it. But it was still his turn to clean it up.

Spooky

In one word, "spooky" describes our Halloween estimates for this year. So much for this being the fun holiday to talk about!

D-Day

Today is the day Chad heads to the orthopedic surgeon to figure out what's wrong with his knee. I'll update this post this afternoon when I know more. Hoping it's not anything major but that if he does need surgery that it can be done quickly with minimal recovery time.

Update from the doc...

Chad completely tore his ACL and partially tore his meniscus. He's going to try to schedule surgery the first week of November, but has to go to physical therapy beforehand to repair it enough so that he can actually have the surgery. (In other words, it is totally screwed up.)

On the plus side -- and there are some plus's here -- this is the same surgery the surgeon had himself, so at least he knows how this works. And, like he told Chad, he now has something in common with Tom Brady, who did the exact same thing last year. The surgeon is confident that if Chad spends 4-6 months rehabbing it, he'll be able to play sports just as actively again. So, some not-so-good news all around but it could be a lot worse. I think Chad's just happy to have a game plan.

Now I have to spend the next month stocking up on movies and board games, practice looking at gross things without fainting, and try to figure out our health insurance to make sure this isn't going to cost an arm and a leg. Or, in this case, a knee.

Cheater, cheater pumpkin-eater

So I've been cheating on my blog. All week. I feel kind of bad about it, but I literally cannot write any more and something had to give.

If you want to see where I have been blogging, you can view my posts on the Shop.org blog.

I'm looking forward to leaving Las Vegas tomorrow morning but, until then, I've got to get back to work!

Sticks and stones

I've mentioned before that, for a lab, Lucy really hates to swim. But a few weeks ago, when we went to Teddy Roosevelt Island on Labor Day, Chad launched a stick a little too far out in the river and Lucy just swam right out to get it.

Earlier this weekend, she repeated her performance fetching sticks and balls at the dog park in Shirlington.

Common scents

Remember the perfume sampler set that Rachel gave me for Christmas? I thought it was the best gift ever. But here it is September and I still haven't made up my mind on which one of the eight perfumes I like most.

I thought I had narrowed it down to two different scents but tonight, on our way to dinner, I threw on a new perfume to try something different. As I was waiting, I realized how much I liked it. Perhaps this will be the one I get in the full-sized bottle...but, hmm...I really do like the other two...

Rachel should have known better than to punt this decision to me. I'm almost as bad at them as she is!

Keeping house

I am fascinated by an email that was sent from someone in our neighborhood. (I've written before about the bizarre postings and insight this listserve of several thousand homes brings me.)

HOUSEKEEPER WANTED

Housekeeper wanted for busy professional couple in Old Town Alexandria. No kids, one small dog.

Ideal candidate would be available 2-3 times per week for thorough cleaning of 3BR 2.5BA home on 3 floors, loading & unloading of dishwasher, watering plants & cleaning patio area, doing all laundry & ironing. Someone energetic, reliable & legal with own transportation is essential.

If you or someone you know might be interested, please email me directly. Many thanks.

My questions -- and you can tell I've given this a considerable amount of thought: How much mess could a couple with a small dog and no kids possibly make? What do these people do for a living? Who are they? How on earth much money do you have to make to pay someone to come to your house three times a week to do chores? No matter how much money you have, isn't that really just overkill? It's all very fascinating.

I can't say that my life with a twice-weekly cleaner/launderer/ironer/gardener, etc. wouldn't be easier, I suppose, but I don't know that we make nearly enough mess to warrant that. Or money.

Good news, bad news

From the doctor...

Good news: Chad can get off the crutches. (Yes, that was a gigantic waste of $40 for one day of use.) X-rays show nothing is broken.

Bad news: The doc thinks we may be dealing with an ACL injury. "No softball, no football, no basketball...but you can ride a bike..." The irony that Chad hates bike riding does not escape me.

I have no idea what level of severity we're talking about until MRI results come back and Chad goes to the orthopedic surgeon in 10 days. Until then, he'll likely be hobbling around.

My favorite line in the Wikipedia entry about ACLs: "Surgical options may be used...if the patient is unable to refrain from participating in high-risk activities ever again."

Unable to participate in high-risk activities? Ummm, yes, I'm pretty sure that describes Chad.

A little prayer

Dear God,

Please give me the patience to deal with my husband, who the doctor has put on crutches at least until his MRI tomorrow morning. You know as well as I do that Chad doesn't do well when asked to sit still.

Oh, and please heal Chad's knee quickly. (Can you maybe make the results tomorrow be a sprain instead of a tear? That would be super.)

While I'd love to have Chad at home more nights, I don't really want to know what it's like to have to go an entire season with him unable to play softball or football. He might make me take up arm-wrestling or something to get his competitive fix and, well, that just wouldn't be a good deal for any of us.

Amen.

Famous last words

"Why hasn't the game started? It has to be 5:00 by now," said one of the wives at the first Galloping Ghosts football game of the season.

"It's only 4:50," said another, checking her watch. "It just feels like 5:00 because we've already been here for an hour."

"Well," I said, "Getting here early gives Chad time to warm up, so I guess that's worth it if it will keep him from getting hurt." (Besides, it was a nice night. If it was raining or cold, I would have been less tolerant.)

And on the second play of the game, Chad stopped, spun...and did something to his knee. It took him out of the game completely, and Chad never leaves the game completely. (We have no idea what's wrong, exactly, but if it's still bad on Tuesday, he promised he'd get it checked out.)

About 45 minutes later, Nick took a knee to the face. Rumor has it he's looking pretty splendid, too.

Travel tales

I am still going through the 400 or so photos from our trip in their entirety, but you may have to settle for about 80 of them for awhile. So until I caption the gazillion photos we took (I mean, really, how many pictures did we have to take of the Mona Lisa?), here's a little compilation of our time in France through the videos we took.

Fughgetaboutit

Ok, loyal and faithful readers. I have not forgotten about you.

I haven't forgotten to tell you all about our wonderful trip to Paris (and share pictures). Or discuss my first few crushingly-busy days back at work. Or the fact that Chad has played four softball games since we've returned. Or that somehow in the midst of keeping Lucy while we were gone, Janice and Nick taught her to stop jumping on people when they came in the door (fingers' crossed...but I do sense a pattern). Or that I have a bunch of things (Ellen to American Idol! Michelle Obama's dress!) that I just plain want to write about.

But please wait until this weekend. I almost have my thoughts together, though my mind is still somewhere very far away...

Aw, shucks

It's Labor Day.

Summer is over. Vacation is over. Bummer.

On the plus side, we celebrated the end of a fun summer tonight with filets on the grill, corn on the cob, and a nice bottle of wine.

We had a wonderful time on vacation. More on that later, when I've had time to get over my funk from having to go back to the real world tomorrow.

Au Revoir

We're heading to Paris, folks! I can't believe it's finally here. Lots of thoughts and a few apprehensions...will fill you all in on the journey when we return in 10 days!

Double the fun

I've mentioned before our group's theory about how everything's better with bacon, but this takes it to a whole new level.

Let me introduce you to KFC's Double Down, which tosses aside that thing we call bread for a "bun" of two pieces of fried chicken enveloping pieces of cheese, bacon, and the Colonel's special sauce. (Sorry, Dad, I know your stomach is growling but you can't get one of these puppies in Illinois yet -- just Omaha and Providence.)

My favorite is all the articles (like this one and this one) that talk about how bad this latest creation is for you. Wow...a sandwich made of fried chicken, cheese, and bacon isn't good for me? Gee, tell me something I didn't know.

The interesting part of the story for me is that our good friend Kevin, part of this original "everything's better with bacon" crew, works for Yum! Brands in Louisville, which owns KFC. I am wondering if this was his idea. If so, I want my cut -- or at least a coupon for a freebie when this comes to DC!

Ups and downs

It's been a newsy week in our group of friends. We welcomed Braden Thomas (yes, he finally has a name) on Saturday and Sophia Jane on Monday. Sophia and family are doing well, though I haven't heard how big sister Anna is handling all this newness!

Unfortunately, this week has also come with its share of loss. Within this group of guys (and our friend Brigid), taken at the wedding we went to in Florida in April, two of them lost parents this week--one mother, one father. This has been the first death of any of our friends' parents -- and two in one week just seems unreal.

If nothing else, it makes you realize all you really have.

Five seconds of fame

I was on Good Morning America this morning...for about five seconds. Still, if you want to see it, watch it here.

Change of plans

With Chad out of town for five days, I have been finding plenty to keep myself busy. This morning, I intended to go to kickboxing with a friend, have brunch with my girls' group, head to the mall with Rachel, and then take Lucy to the park with my friend April and her dog Cooper.

There was a slight change of plans.

Kickboxing was great, but just four of us went to brunch. Then we went here:

Meet Baby O'Reilly, the newest addition to our group, who arrived this morning at 3:54 a.m. at a healthy 8 pounds, 12 ounces. (Baby Sophia is due any day, but the O'Reilly kid came a week early and beat her to it!)

His only name right now is "cute," but his mom and dad are working on that.

Wet & wild

Much like every night about that time, I got ready to take Lucy for a walk around 7:00. It was cloudy, but I checked the weather and the radar was clear. And, besides, it's practically been months since we had any decent amount of rain. Tonight would likely be no different.

So we headed out for Fort Ward, an old Civil War site that is now a park, about a mile from our house. On the way there, the air was really still. It was humid. I was hot. I was thinking about all the reasons why I'm ready for summer to be over, and telling myself it would not be so horribly bad if a nice little sprinkle cooled everything off and brought the breeze back.

We walked a lap around the park and then I took Lucy over to a big grassy area where I can let her off the leash and relinquish some of that unwavering energy by throwing a stick. Just as she set out on her first sprint, it started to sprinkle.

It started to rain.

It started to pour.

At that point, there were three options. I could find a shed or shelter to wait it out, run the mile home and just get it over with already, or embrace it. Those of you who know me well will be surprised that I just said, "forget it," chose option three, and we walked home in the pouring rain.

I shared a strange camaraderie with all of the other joggers and dog-walkers who had gotten stuck in this sudden summer storm. Just when I didn't think the raindrops could get any bigger, they did, so I looked up at the sky, felt God giving me a big "well, you said you wanted rain..." speech, and laughed all the way home. The minute we crossed onto our street, the rain stopped. Talk about timing.

Lucy and I would not be any wetter if you threw us in a swimming pool. But it was kind of fun!

Not their best "Self"

On Monday, I read an article about an interview with and cover shoot of former American Idol winner Kelly Clarkson in September's Self magazine. Clarkson, who has always had a love/hate/hate/hate relationship with weight, looked good and I remembered thinking she must really be working out.

So today I come to find out in another article that people are livid because her picture was retouched. And I don't mean "retouched" as in they took away a pimple and made her teeth whiter. I mean they Photoshopped the living daylights out of this picture, as is evidenced by the before-and-after shots. It reminds me of the brouhaha over Katie Couric's photo "retouch" a few years ago, also another brilliant example of "photojournalism" at work.

The magazine's excuse? Kelly's picture was "altered" to "make her look her personal best." What a joke. I guess even a publication that claims to embrace healthy lifestyles, eating right, exercise, and, well, "curves," still needs to sell magazines. And apparently Kelly was just too chubby for them. Glad I already canceled my subscription.

Here's to 35 more

I can never remember my parents' anniversary. I know it's somewhere around my grandma's birthday, but get confused on specifics. (I even blogged about it last year and got called out by my mother for having it wrong. Oops.) But anyway, today I knew for sure that today was their anniversary. Of course I forgot to send a card and being on a different time zone meant I was too late to call, but I did give them a shout-out on my Facebook status and I'd like to think that counts for something.

At any rate, today my parents have been married 35 years. They've produced four incredibly fun, accomplished, humble kids who love them very much. Three of them were home tonight to celebrate this monumental occasion with them (no I don't feel guilty about being "the one" who missed the festivities at all...).

I've written before how much I admire my parents. I'm not sure how people get their kids to become their friends, but somehow they managed -- or at least I think they did. (Then again, maybe this has just been a ruse all these years.)

Perhaps it's because I feel like they're my buddies, but I wish I could have been at their wedding. I know it was memorable -- especially that part where dad was late. (Mom acted surprised throughout my childhood when dad could never get anywhere on time -- but she should have known!)

Even though I missed their wedding, for...well...obvious reasons, I've been a part of their lives for 30 of those 35 years, which is something. Still, we're nowhere close to finished, folks. I'm rooting for 35 more!

All work and no play...

My little vacation is over. And while I work, Chad plays. (I'm not complaining, might I add: he's worked his tail off for the last month and could really use a break. He even slept in this morning!)

Chad had a good time golfing at Torrey Pines yesterday (see his group below). Today, he was taking a bus to the beach for the afternoon. It's probably a good thing we're leaving tomorrow because I think he could quickly get used to this!

Sight-seeing

About a month ago, I mentioned to Chad that I had to head to San Diego for four days for a conference. Since it was going to be recess, which is really the only time he can travel, I thought he might want to join me.

We left on Friday after work and stayed Friday night in this really darling little boutique hotel (that I found on Hotwire for $90 a night, thank you) that just opened four weeks ago. It was right downtown San Diego and just a few blocks from Petco Park.


Then yesterday, we checked into our hotel where our conference will be held, spent the afternoon by the pool, and met up with a few co-workers before heading out to dinner. Our room overlooks the golf course (which Chad will be playing on this afternoon and on which the U.S. Open was held last year -- seriously, that was his deciding factor on coming on this trip) and in the distance you can see the ocean. It kind of melts into the sky in this picture, but it's there.

And then we went out to dinner, stopping by this place beforehand that overlooks the water. I didn't want to irritate all the people eating dinner by the glass windows too much, but I just had to take a photo of the breathtaking view. Honestly, I was impressed that these people seemed deep in conversation with each other; I'm pretty sure I would have spent the whole dinner looking out the window!

A super slip-n-slide

This might be the coolest (yet, stupidest) thing I have seen since, well, ever. If I grew up in mountain territory, I'd argue that my brother would have already tried this.

Dan, if you are watching this, please do not try this at home.

Hooah!

Ok, so you know my admiration of and feelings toward our troops. (I blogged about this when my brother-in-law was serving in Iraq and have highlighted some cool things companies are doing to remind the troops we support them.) Brad came home safely more than a year ago, and since that time we've known a few co-workers' relatives and friends-of-friends who are deployed.

Late last year, one of my colleagues -- who is just an incredible guy in every way -- was called up by the National Guard and is serving now as an Army Sergeant outside of Baghdad. I think about him all the time and am always looking for goodies to add to the care packages NRF sends over.

Earlier this week, a few of my worlds collided, as I got the opportunity to profile my friend for one of our association's blogs. People from almost every department at NRF submitted questions for him about his experience and he tackled them all, talking about what the environment "over there" is like, how being deployed has changed him, and what he looks forward to the most when he sets foot again on American soil.

If you have a few minutes, read what he had to say. His optimism really fills my heart with pride.

Hear me out

Even though the House is in recess, the Senate is still going strong. Chad has had three major hearings over the last week, which have kept him really busy. In advance, he'll research the panelists and write questions for his boss to ask the people who are testifying. And then of course he'll sit in on the hearings when they happen.

I do my very best to care about and understand what he's working on, but most of the time, these things go right over my head:

Last Tuesday
e: What's tomorrow's hearing about?
c: systemic risk

Monday
e: What's tomorrow's hearing about?
c: prudential regulations

Today
e: What was today's hearing about?
c: regulatory overhauls of credit rating agencies

It is in these moments that I'm overwhelmed by how smart Chad really is. Just the ability to stay awake in meetings about topics like these is beyond my comprehension. I'm glad all I have to talk about is shopping!

Schedule of events

When I mentioned a few weeks ago that I'm not sure how The Pioneer Woman does it, I was serious. I got to thinking about my daily routine, trying to figure out why I never get anything done. Here's what I came up with. Someone please tell me how I fit in anything else in here:

5:00 a.m. - Wake up
5:10 a.m. - Go to the gym
6:30 - Come back from the gym
7:45 - Leave for work
8:30 - Mandatory meeting with our CEO (so you know I have to make sure I am at work on time!)
9:00 - 6:00 - Meetings, phone calls, lots and lots of emails, and, if I'm lucky, lunch. (juuust kidding, folks, I do eat lunch. Every day. Some days it's just better than others.)
6:30 - Get home
6:45 - Take Lucy for a walk
7:45 - Raid the fridge to figure out what in the heck we're going to make for dinner
8:00 - Make dinner (we'll be a little later than this tonight because Chad is still at work)
8:30 - Eat and clean up
9:00 - Read a magazine, watch TV, catch up on emails, etc.
10:30 - BED!

Dog-gone it

Every once in awhile, I feel a little bit guilty over the amount of money we spend on our dog. We buy her good food, Chad gets her treats and toys, and she's torn up her share of things around here we've had to replace.

Yesterday afternoon I went to our local pet food store, which I love, to buy a bag of Lucy's dog food. It takes her about six weeks to go through a bag, so even though it's a little pricey, it's not something we get often. In front of me at the store was a woman stocking up on all sorts of food -- wet, dry, cat, dog...it took up pretty much the whole counter. I wasn't paying much attention until I heard her say that she had several dogs--one being a bull mastiff--at least one cat (see, I told you I wasn't paying attention) and that the food would last about a month. Then the cashier pronounced her total: "That will be three-hundred-thirty-seven-dollars-and-sixty-eight cents."

Truly, I about died.

I was so relieved at the affordability of my purchase, in comparison, I almost bought Lucy a bone to go with it. But I decided my company for the afternoon was treat enough for her, so I practically skipped to the car with my 40 pounds of dog food and headed home.

It's beginning to look a lot like...

NBC called yesterday to tape a Christmas in July piece. The last several times they've called, I've run over and taped and the piece has never run. Apparently, it was a slow enough news day that the light-hearted news made it in. Go figure.

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Numbers game

On the way to the gym this morning, Chad was bemoaning the fact that he couldn't remember the combination of his new padlock.

(Side note: We left our old gym for a brand-spanking new one that's both amazing and about 40% cheaper...it was a no-brainer, even though I miss the guy who reminds me of Grandpa Howard.)

At any rate, this new gym has lockers and you need to bring your own lock to store your stuff. We bought a pack of two padlocks a few weeks ago, both with the same combination (super-smart if you ask me, as long as you're not trying to keep something from your husband or your kids). But for the life of him, Chad can't remember the combination.

"It's really easy to remember," I told him. "It's the age you look, the age you act, and the age you are."

The combination? 27-12-32.

I'll bet he doesn't forget again!

Weekend Update

So you don't have to endure another one of Chad's Cubs videos (though I wouldn't blame him for posting a clip of last night's game-winning Grand Slam...even I thought that was impressive), I wanted to send off a quick update of what we've been up to.

Over the weekend, we hosted our annual summer party, called Hootiepalooza (the name is random and I'll tell the story another time). The party always has a theme and this year we all went redneck to make up for last year's "preppy" party. People from West Virginia, Missouri, Florida and Georgia traveled to DC for Hootiepalooza, which started at 4 and ended around 1 a.m. Since 2004, when this party began, our group has expanded...sometimes literally: This year's party included four pregnant women and five kids (one of our friends at the party had her baby two days later!).

I'm still thinking about which pictures I should share with the world and which ones should stay protected by the 50 or so people who witnessed the hilarity.

So for now, I'll post three photos: our two men who took home award for the "best guy" ensemble (who both cut long hair just for this party -- and promptly shaved it on Sunday) and our "best couple": a photo of my good friend April and her husband Tom. She really is pregnant and they really don't normally look like this...

Bonus round

One of our most vibrant members passed away over the weekend at the way-too-young age of 41. I met him once or twice, but wish I would have known him better: from everything I've read, he seems like an incredible guy. My colleague, Larry, wrote an incredibly poignant blog post about this well-respected man, who seemed to have a refreshing viewpoint on life.

My favorite part of his blog post was about the eulogy his wife gave during yesterday's funeral. She said, basically, that her husband always had a lot of ideas, one of which was this concept of a "bonus day." In this concept, you take a routine, "normal" day and make something special out of it that can live in your memory.

As my friend Larry said, "Whether Alan was scrapping dinner plans to make something adventurous in the kitchen, taking his kids sledding when they should be sleeping, or some other zany activity — Alan’s life was filled with bonus days. If you take nothing else from his life, we should all try to create as many bonus days in our own life as possible." Man, isn't that the truth?!?

So I've been thinking about the idea of a "bonus day" ever since I read Larry's post. I have a slightly different take on it, in that I decided a "bonus day" means to me that every day I get is a day that I am 1) not owed and 2) can't "do over."

To be honest, I've lived 30 wonderful, healthy, fun, successful years (and I hope to live, hmmm...60 more!). But I realize that a zillion different things could have hypothetically happened to me that would have cut my life short, and everything I get on top of what I have should be considered a bonus. Let me tell you: that shift in perspective really makes a difference to me.

With this buried in the back of my mind, I went to girls' night after work with four great friends. We talked about everything: babies, weddings, showers, Europe, the Harvard professor, health care reform...you name it. As I was walking back to my car after we dispersed into five different directions, I realized this was my "bonus" for today: an evening surrounded by good friends, way too much laughter, and a dinner bill that didn't even come close to the value that can be put on memories like this.

Vacation? Oui!

Chad and I were planning to go on vacation at the end of August. We had it narrowed down to Barbados and Aruba. I was ready to sit at the pool and read books. Maybe snorkel.

Then Rachel randomly brought up that a hotel they stayed at in Hawaii was discounted at the end of August. We did some research, put together a budget, and planned our trip. I was ready to go check out the volcanoes and hike through the mountains and see Pearl Harbor.

After mom sent an email with some deals for Europe, we got on the Italy bandwagon. Rome...Tuscany...Venice...Sorrento...oh, so many options it was almost overwhelming. But, the wine! The pasta! The music! I was ready to do it all.

And that brings me back to our final decision, as today we booked tickets to France. (How did that happen, again?) We'll spend four or five days in Paris followed by four or five days in Nice. The way I see it, this vacation has it all: the history, the food, the art, the beach...I even know a little bit of the language. I'm ready for a lot of things about this trip but, most of all, I'm ready to go!