Top 100 Ways I Know I Married the Right Man No. 74

74. Sometimes, he acts frighteningly similar to my father. For example, a conversation we had this morning:


Me: What's the weather supposed to be like today?
Bert: Great for landing on Mars!!!


He's been glued to his NASA and JPL apps all day and is seriously considering staying up till 1:30 a.m. to see if Curiosity makes it. I consulted with the Momster this afternoon, and she reports that Papa V. is exhibiting similar behavior. I am doing my best to encourage him and suggested we pull out the aluminum foil and make some hats to celebrate. We'll see how it goes. ;)

Top 100 Ways You Know You Live In NOVA: No. 98

98. You hit a new low of pretentiousness where an ice cream shop has the gall to not carry sprinkles because "the ice cream tastes too good for sprinkles."

News flash, scooper party-pooper. (Yes, I thought that one up on my own.)

1. Desiring sprinkles has nothing to do with the flavor of the ice cream. It's a texture thing. Obviously, you've never heard of those ice cream aficionados known as chunk spelunkers. (That's a Ben & Jerry's term. Can't take the credit for that one.) Nor do you seem to take them seriously. I'm almost offended.

2. Your ice cream wasn't that good. Not even close.

Oh well. Live, learn, and check that place off the list. Should've gone across the street. ;)

(Sorry for the lack of blogging lately. Work's been a bear. My old boss retired Friday and my new one starts a week from Wednesday, so it's been a bit nuts. I didn't get out of bed until 3 p.m. yesterday, which roughly translates to DEFCON 2 as far as my health prognosis goes. Feeling much better today though. Even with the disappointing ice cream cone. :)

D.C.'s Best Cupcake No. 7: Sprinkles, Part Deux

So I still haven't actually been to Sprinkles - currently planning an excursion in August when Sister V. comes down - but according to this Washington Post article, D.C. is getting its own 24-hour Cupcake ATM!!! Granted, Georgetown is not nearly as convenient as say...mmm...Arlington, but when those 2 a.m. cupcake cravings hit, at least there won't be any traffic! :D

Cooking No. 15: Jose Andres for the Garden Café Catalonia

I can’t take credit for either one of these beauties - or even the photographs, for that matter! My friend T. took these shots of our Jose Andres lunch at the National Gallery this past Sunday. For our entrée, we ordered the empedrat de mongetes amb bacallà, aka the white bean salad with vegetables and Catalan salt cod. We split it between the two of us–they were out of Drew’s first choice–and, minus the inevitable fish/garlic bad breath, it was perfect: fresh and pleasantly pungent.

For dessert, we split the peres al vi amb gelat de vainilla, pears poached in red wine with vanilla ice cream. I usually don’t care for pears, but these had a nice sangria-esque vibe going on. Top that with ice cream and–needless to say–they didn’t last long!

The restaurant also has a Catalonian buffet set up for the exhibition. It was a bit pricey for the two of us, but I would have loved to try the cold cherry and tomato soup. The recipe is online here and looks simple enough. Maybe I’ll give it a try!

Date Night No. 4: Derecho Style

"The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry."

Welcome to our weekend. Here I am, writing this on Monday afternoon, and all I can think is, "I need a weekend from my weekend." I'm being dramatic, of course. We were only out of power for a day, our apartment was never warmer than 78 degrees, and I only had to throw out 1/2 gallon of milk, 1/4 pound of bacon, and one chicken breast. (Who knew small grocery budgets were so black-out friendly?) Our neighbor had a tree land on their car and a lot of folks are still in the dark, so I can't complain.

The weekend was off to a lousy start even before the derecho rolled through. Originally, Drew and I were going to get dinner in Rosslyn and then catch the free, outdoor movie in Gateway Park, but after a long, hot week at work (for both of us), we canned that idea in favor of vegging out at a proper, air conditioned theater. The second-run cinema near our house was showing The Hunger Games, so we decided to give the cheap seats a shot. However, we didn't count on not being able to find parking in time for the show. (Sometimes I miss sprawl and its glorious acres of asphalt. *sigh*) I wasn't too keen on missing the beginning of the movie, so we turned around and went back home. The storm hit around 10:30, killed our power almost immediately, and terrified the cat. I went to bed early, because that's the kind of day/week it was. Just put me out of my misery, please.

Our friend Amy visited on Saturday on her way home from vacation and I'm afraid Drew, Nibbles, and I cut a pitiful sight: tired, hot, and cranky. (Well, Drew and the Noo were only tired. I was the only Triple Crown winner.) Thankfully, Amy has seen me at my worst and dirtiest in the middle of the African Bush, so she wasn't frightened away. (We had enough hot water for showers Saturday morning, so I'm sure that helped too!) Old Town had power, so we had lunch at Pizzeria Paradiso and shop-hopped to stay cool. By four I needed a nap - because I physically cannot do heat - so we went back to the mercifully-still-cool apartment so I could recharge my batteries. :) Amy left after dinner at Don Pablo's in Potomac Yard - what's with Alexandria having all the power?! - and Drew and I holed up with our four candles and iPhone lights. (Note to self: BUY A MAGLIGHT! And maybe some other disaster supplies… Talk about being the least prepared on the street. :P)

We'd just drifted off to sleep around 11:30 when the condensers for our building - conveniently located right outside my window - whirled to life. Now, there's something to be said for the silence and darkness that accompanies a blackout. It is nice in a slow-you-down, focus-on-what's-important, look-at-the-stars kind of way. But there's also something to be said for air conditioning in 100 degree heat. And in this case (and for maybe the first time in my life), I support the latter. Whirl, baby, whirl!

So Sunday things finally got back to the normal and planned. (Except for our Internet, which came back with the power, but left Sunday night only to return again Monday.) We went to church, swung by Target to replace a few empty/depleted perishables, and cooked lunch on the stove. (I missed having a gas stove this weekend! Even when they cut power in PA during the whole Irene mess, we could still cook!)

After lunch, we metroed into the city for an afternoon at the National Gallery with our friends T. & E., specifically to see the Joan Miro exhibition, "The Ladder of Escape." I didn't know a lot about Miro, so it was an interesting exhibit to walk through, especially after I sat through the exhibit movie and had more of a clue. (Surrealism is not my strong point. ;) Afterwards, we had lunch in the garden café, whose menu was redesigned with Catalonian cuisine by chef Jose Andres (T.'s fav! :) for the exhibit. Proof that he is an amazing chef? The huz ate white bean and salt cod salad and LIKED it. Wonder of wonders, I need to take a few notes from that man's cookbook. :) (The red wine poached pears for dessert were amazing as well. And I don't even like pears!)

Because we ate out way more than normal this weekend - although completely justifiable considering the circumstances - I don't even know where the date night budget should begin and end this week. Do you ever have off weeks like that? Weeks were everything goes haywire and at some point you just stop caring? Ugh. Lunch on Sunday was probably around $25 - close enough. No date night this week - Drew's going to PA to clean up some loose ends from our move in February - so we'll start afresh the weekend after that. We should be sufficiently recovered by then.

BTOTD: On Perspective

I’ve always thought that everyone should work retail at least once in their life, if only to experience the humiliation and indignation of being uninformed and unimpowered and constantly reminded of both by the thankfully minor (but unfortunately loud) portion of the population that thinks shopping is a life or death situation. Once you’ve worked in customer service, you really have no choice but to act somewhat reasonable towards others in the field. Constant interaction with strangers–pleasant, angry, or otherwise–is not any easy job.

I’ve done this. I’ve worked retail. I’ve seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. But with one month of professional customer service under my belt, I’ve decided to add a caveat to my mantra: In addition to working retail, everyone should be required to spend a week or two in a third world situation. Because it has come to my attention that what this world needs is not love – although love is nice and it certainly decreases the number of angry phone calls and hang ups I receive – but perspective.

To put it succinctly, if you are not dialing 911, your problem is not an emergency. Therefore, you are probably going to have to take a number and it’s probably not number two. But rather than camp out on my soapbox, I thought I’d offer a few insights and tips about the overall world of customer service–good or bad–and how to navigate the ropes with as little collateral damage as possible.

1. As emotionally upsetting as your situation may be, don’t editorialize. Most of the people you speak to won’t be involved or responsible, and even if they are, they won’t care. They might be heartless, but most likely they just don’t want your baggage. Also, they’ve heard it all before. (Water off a duck’s back, baby!) Be persistent, but stick to the facts.

2. Be willing to accept that you may be wrong, especially if it’s a situation you’ve never dealt with before or a subject you don’t know a lot about. If it’s not your job, the customer service rep probably knows more than you. Trust me, humble pie tastes better when it’s warm. If you’re wrong, own up to it quickly.

3. It’s okay to ask to speak to a manager, but go up the company rope, one by one, even if it takes time. If you try and jump rank, no one will know what you’re talking about and you’ll annoy the higher-ups who try and stay out of the details. Stick with the people who deal with your situation on a day-to-day basis. They’re the ones most able and likely to help.

4. Stay calm, cool, and collected. If I want drama, I’ll watch Lifetime. Hanging up or getting mouthy does not impress me and it does not help you. If you’re a repeat offender, don’t think word won’t get around. Talking about the crazies makes for great water cooler conversation.

5. If you feel like you’re stuck in a merry-go-round of transferred phone calls or emails, don’t take it personal. Many large companies are spread across multiple locations and have a high turnover rate. People may genuinely not know who should handle your concern.

6. And finally, if a company or business has a history of treating you this way, take your business elsewhere! You’re not going to change the company culture while swinging through their electronic phone directory, but money does talk. And if you have no choice but to do business with the company, join the club. I hate Comcast too. ;)

What do you think? Have you worked in customer service before? Did it change the way you treat others? Do you have any thoughts to add?

Date Night No. 3: North A-ton

This weekend, we had less of a date night and more of a date weekend, which I will take over the former just about every time. Saturday morning we ran the usual gamut of errands and chores, but by mid-afternoon we’d had enough of that. Drew had yet to see the neighborhood where I work, so we took a rare weekend bus trip up to my M-F neck of the woods – his first trip into the wilds of Northern Arlington.

Showing off while waiting for the bus. ;) I got an iPhone from work, so I've been working on my Instagram skillz. Poor Drew has to put up with being my constant subject.

We didn’t go into my office, but we did walk around the building so I could show him all its vital amenities - Starbucks, CVS, etc. (Have I mentioned I’ve made it my sad, new personal goal to earn a Starbucks Gold Card? Everyone and their mother has them here. I feel so left out.) After that, we took a quick turn through Crate & Barrel. I’ve been window shopping for a reasonably-priced/awesome living room rug for several months and came so close to finding one here. The Barker Rug in Blue matches our living room perfectly AND is on sale. The only problem? It doesn’t come in 5x7. And even if I had $400 to drop on a rug, 6x9 is way too large. (And 4x6 is way too small.) Figures.

So instead we bought three porcelain condiment spoons for $1 a pop, promised ourselves we’d hit up the C&B Outlet in Old Town for more rugs on the cheap, and went on our merry way. J

For dinner, we came ‘this close’ to buying shrimp po’ boys from a purple food truck parked outside of The Container Store (aka OCD“R”Us), but something about buying seafood from a truck gave us the willies and we ended up at Baja Fresh instead. While I’m all about supporting quirky eateries on wheels, I’m not big on Cajun food. Fresh pico and over sized burritos will win me over any day.

War of the iPhone cameras.

We finished off the night with an exciting game of “Can We Make it to the Next Bus Stop Before the Bus Drives By?” (Answer? Yes, until we chickened out and camped out on a bench next to someone’s Astin Martin parked on the street. Egads! Why don’t you just put a sign on it that says “HIT ME!”) and a Redbox-sponsored viewing of Captain American as part of my post-Avengers education. (Better than Thor, but still not as good as Iron Man.) We did stop by the C&B Outlet on the way home from church Sunday, but still no dice. The great living room rug search continues!

Costs

Ceramic Condiment Spoons x3 = $3

Baja Fresh = $17(ish. Drew has the receipt, but I know it was $16-something.)

Total = $20

Budget=$20

Overage=$0!!!

Yay! Not counting $6 in bus fares–we both get commuting stipends from work, so we’ll just roll it into that–we finally stayed on budget.

Top 100 Ways I Know I Married the Right Man: No. 75

75. He'll sprint 1/4 mile in 200% humidity just to walk with me to my bus stop. :-*

This week is so crazy hot, I feel like this one should be in the Top Ten!

Top 100 Ways I Know I Married the Right Man: No. 76

76. When he finds my Tom Kundig book buried in our bookshelves, he instantly forgets what he's doing - in this case, rearranging the router wires - loses himself in the book, and (176 pages later) declares that someday we must commission a Kundig house. Noted. Hopefully, we won't have to move to the West Coast for one. ;)

Date Night No. 2: The Avengers

This week we split Date Night into two separate events. And kind of went over budget again. But like last week, it was totally not our fault. Let me explain.

Friday night, we walked down to Shirlington, sat on a bench, and split a gigantic hazelnut iced latte from Caribou Coffee. Drew refers to this bench as "the bus stop," because it's ridiculously close to the side of the road on a sharp, 90 degree turn. It's not the best spot in Shirlie for people watching, but it's definitely the best spot for car spotting. Strangest/Most Wrong car of the night? The shiny, brand new, $100,000+ Mercedes G Class SUV, aka the Land Cruiser/hearse love child. If you want to spend a small fortune on a car, fine, but at least spend it on a pretty one that doesn't scream "drug dealer/desert explorer wannabe!" (Unless, of course, you are one. Then by all means…)

Saturday morning, we took advantage of 'matinee pricing' and went to see The Avengers before it leaves the big screen. (Drew's choice, but I did want to see it. I even watched Iron Man 2 and Thor in preparation. :) This is where I messed up the monies.

Originally, I was going to buy our tickets on Fandango. They sell matinee tickets for $9.50 each (!!!) which, combined with a $3 coupon I got for following them on Twitter, would bring the price of two tickets down to $16. Now, I was under the impression (supported by a very thorough Google search) that Fandango prices include a surcharge, so I decided to save my coup for a hard-to-buy-tickets situation and buy the (presumably) cheaper tickets at the theater. This gave us a little extra money for our latte on Friday.

Except the Fandango prices didn't include a surcharge. At least not this time. The tickets were $9.50 a pop, plus a $1 donation to charity, for a total of $20 even. (Side Note: Why don't they pass the Jimmy Fund bucket around anymore? It was kind of annoying at the time, but now I kind of miss the ad where the iron workers spray-painted all the kids' names on the steel. So presh.) Begrudgingly paying $9.50 for a 2-D, on-it's-way-to-DVD movie makes me feel old. I think it's time we find a second run theater…

Regardless, The Avengers was great. Tony Stark remains my personal hero. Thor continues to get on my nerves. Drew and I spend a good amount of time this weekend discussing the Norton/Ruffalo controversy. Nerdy fun was had by all.

Cost

Gigantic Hazelnut Iced Latte from the Best Chain Coffee Shop Ever: $5

Movie Tickets x2: $19

Charity Donation: $1
The sense of dogoodery born of writing our name on a paper star: Priceless

Total = $25

Budget: $20

Drew's Pocket Cash: $2.50 :(

Sarah's Pocket Cash: $2.50 :(

After two weeks of 'money trouble,' I am starting to think we need to up our budget to $25. Or does that defeat the purpose of having a budget to begin with? Or are we just having too much fun?

Date Night No. 1: Johnny Rockets

Now that I'm working and deprived of the inspirational energy that comes from sleeping past five, Drew and I are consciously trying to plan at least one Date Night a week. There's only one catch: a $20 budget. Difficult? Yes, but trying to stay under the limit is kind of a fun game. :)

For our inaugural evening, we walked down to Johnny Rockets for some burgers, fries, and the ever-thrifty-but-rarely-exciting water. Once there however, Mr. C couldn't resist the call of the Mr. Pibb - in his defense, they seated us right next to the soda fountain - so he sprung for two sodas from his pocket cash. (Usually, we go old-people-school and share one, but he's a little under the weather right now. I'm trying to pass on the cooties!)

Awww...so cute. Even when he's sick. :-*

While we waited for our food, I serenaded him with a song from the jukebox. My choice? "Barbara Ann," by The Beach Boys. Long story. Inside joke. Nevertheless, much appreciated by the huz. ;)

The food was delish and treated me the way Johnny Rockets always does - that is to say, not well - but our somewhat scary/intense waitress gave us cheeseburgers instead of hamburgers, which threw off our budget a smidge. (It's amazing how those little things suddenly matter!)

On the way home, Drew saved me from stepping on a snake - my hero! (Centi-/milli-/anything-with-more-than-four-leg pedes and snakes are really the only creepy crawlies that give me the willies.) I was too busy yapping to see the enormous garter snake warming itself on the sidewalk. Whoops. (Subconsciously, I think I just assumed it was a crack in the concrete or something. ;)

Here's our budget breakdown:

Food+Tip=$26.37

Jukebox=$.05

Total=$26.42

Budget=$20.00

Drew's Soda Money=$4.93

My Jukebox Money=$.05

The Unintentional Cheese on the Burgers=$1.44

Not too shabby for a first go! What about you? What have you been up to this weekend?

NTOTD No. 21: Commuting

I start my new job on Monday. It's like the first day of school. I'm excited and nervous, but mostly just ready to start something new! My office is kind-of-inconveniently on the other side of Arlington, so I'm doing a few trial runs this week to figure out the best means of public transportation. This morning, I rode part of the way on the bus with Drew, then hopped on the Metro for the rest of it. Unfortunately, by eight o'clock I was still one stop away from work - and everything was running on time - so I don't think that route will work unless we catch an earlier bus. Likely? No. ;)

Plan B is actually cheaper and more direct - not counting the mile-ish hike over some of A-ton's finest mountains (Time to invest in some good flats!) - but it would've been nice to commute part of the way with the huz. :-*

Oh well. Four more days till show time!

Happy Memorial Day!

Drew had to work from home most of the weekend (Boo to Post-Memorial Day Tuesday morning meetings!) but I did manage to steal him away for a little while today. The Beltway has been making me claustrophobic as of late, so we decided to drive out past Manassas for a little day hike. I found the trails of the Wildcat Mountain Natural Area on this hiking website. They gave it a 6 on the "solitude" scale - the highest rating available - which sounded perfect for an afternoon of running away. And they were right - we had the trail all to ourselves! It was so nice to be out in the woods again. :)

What about you? Any fun Memorial Day doings? :)

Craft No. 13: Haircuts

In college, before I knew Drew, I knew Drew’s hair. It is amazing. It has a life of its own. It is the reason I married him. Honestly, what girl could say no to this mop?

Our first date ever. I lured him to my apartment with the promise of brownies. ;)

That said, now that we are old and respectable and have jobs with dress codes, sometimes I have to say something. And oddly enough, when I turned to him the other night and said, “You’re starting to look like the super villain from a cartoon, but I can’t remember his name,” he knew exactly who I meant. This guy.

And that is when you know you need a haircut. When the Syndrome comparisons start. ;)

We have a cheap salon within walking distance of our apartment, but Drew’s been so busy this week that he never had time to get over there. Coincidentally, when I saw this post on DIY haircuts on Young House Love – one of my favorite house blogs! - I thought, “I could do that!” And despite a disastrous DIY haircut in college from one of his buddies, Drew was game/brave enough to let me take a whack at it, provided we wait until this weekend so he would have time to go to the salon “if need be.” The lack of faith in my (untested) abilities aside, he had himself a deal!

I picked up a $20 kit from CVS, which included a razor, all the numbered guards, and a pair of terrible scissors that I immediately threw out. Still, I thought it was pretty reasonable considering it would (hopefully) pay for itself in one haircut. (The cashier was all excited. “Oh! You know how to cut hair!” “I’m going to learn,” I said. ;)

I whipped out the kit's tiny barber cape and set up shop in our tinier kitchen. Drew was a little nervous.

Syndrome? Yes? Can you see it? :)

But once he started up an episode of Top Gear on his iPad, I think he forgot I was there. Which was good, because I was nervous too! ;)

In defense of whoever cut his hair last, he has a crazy cowlick on the lower left. It really wasn't as uneven as it looks.

I have never cut anyone’s hair before – other than chopping my own bangs too short – so I started off slow. He usually gets a #4 cut on the back and sides, but I started off with a #6. Just in case. ;) Once I felt confident with the razor, I switched to a #4 blade and had at it. Then I cut the top with scissors – a sharper pair from my craft drawer – and tried to blend the best I could. (The YHL post has a video that explains it really well. I definitely recommend watching it.)

I was still clipping when Top Gear ended an hour later, and I had to speed up because, without the dulcet tones of Jeremy Clarkson ringing in his ears, my client started to fall asleep. (“It’s like getting a head massage.”) When I let him look at himself in the mirror, I think he was pleasantly surprised! I had to clean up his neck a little bit this morning, but other than that, I think my career as a stylist is off to a roaring start.

Not too shabby for a first try! I need to invest in some good scissors and a broom, but I think we (and by that I mean he ;) have many more home hair cuts in our future! :)

Have you ever cut someone else's hair? Or let someone other than a stylist touch your own? (I'm too scared to try! ;)

Cleaning No. 2: Mama V.

You know you have a keeper when (among other quirky design decisions) your husband’s cool with you hanging two pictures of his mother-in-law in the dining room. Honestly, I’ve probably had more push back from the ever-humble Mama V. about the whole thing. (Does it give off a “my mother is dead” vibe? I don’t think so.) But that is one of the few benefits of living 363 miles apart. (Yes, I googled it.) I don’t have to listen to her. Or maybe that's a detriment of growing up? Hmmm…whatev. I think my mom's gorgeous. She'll just have to deal.

I had both pictures of Mama V. on the wall in NEPA as well, so Mr. C. and the Momster have both had more than enough time to adjust. This large pastel is a caricature she had done when we lived in Albany, about 16 years ago now. She can’t remember where or why, but judging by the date, it was probably a Veteran’s Day shindig of some sort. (Mama V. was a certified child-wrangler back in the day, so she usually worked Mondays.) I never saw it until she tried to throw it out during one of her ‘stuff purges,’ which forced me to stage a “What are you doing?! That is awesome!” intervention. She hesitated at the time, but now that it’s all framed and cleaned up, I think she secretly likes it too. ;)

I came across the second picture the same way – on it’s way to the garbage can. After high school, Mama V. worked at a crossword puzzle publisher for a year. (No joke. I didn’t believe it at first either.) Her boss liked to paint and did this watercolor of her. If I was 19 and my 50+ boss wanted to paint me, I’d think it was a little creepy, but she says it wasn’t like that. And she's a hot babe, so I guess I can't really blame the guy. Ah, the 70s. Such an age of innocence…

I never saw the painting growing up because Mama V. never put it on the wall. (Again, the Mama V. modesty. ;) So as you can imagine, after being stored in garages and basements and boxes for almost forty years, it needed a little love. I’m starting a new job on June 4^th –whole ‘nother story! – so I’m trying to finish up all my little projects before then. And this was Numero Uno.

The watercolor itself was in decent shape, but the frame needed some help. It's made out of really nice, dark wood, but it hadn’t been cleaned in ummm…forever, there was no glass, and I had accidently sucked away part of the ‘decorative paper border’ during a particularly vigorous vacuuming session. Whoops. (Gotta watch out for those Dysons, yo.) So I bought a sheet of replacement glass at Michael’s, assembled my cleaning supplies, and got to work!

I started by tearing off the rest of the paper striping. Even if it wasn’t ripped, it was still ugly. Rubbing alcohol works great for removing all sorts of ‘goo.’ (Better even than the commercial stuff and without the awful smell and danger of burning your fingers off!) This adhesive was really tough and had a forty year head start, so it took five or six passes with a combination of paper towels and cotton balls, but eventually I got it to the point where I could just rub it off like an old sun burn. (Gross, I know, but you totally know what I mean.)

After that, I wiped the rest of the frame down with my “I’m trying so hard to be green” Method cleaner, popped the glass in, and viola! Better than new! (And smelling faintly of French lavender. :) This painting's been sitting on the floor since we moved in - hence the run in with the vacuum - but now she's finally on the wall with her other self. Beautiful. I love that feeling when a long-procrastinated project is finally done!

What about you? Any overdue projects in the works for the long weekend?

Cancer No. 8: Check-ups

Remember this girl?

This is me with two thyroids - and super-long hair! - mere minutes before I put on that enormous, grape-colored hospital gown in my right hand, but many hours - they were running late, which is not very nice when they won't let you eat - before the anesthesiologist actually asked me to count down from ten.

I made it to seven. Staunch Stuff, right here. ;)

I haven't posted anything about my thyroid in over a year because, well, there hasn't been anything to say. (And thyroidectomies are not sexy, no matter how fun you try and make them sound.) My neck healed seamlessly except for one small spot over my neck muscle, and if you don't know it's a scar, you'd probably just think it's a zit or something. (The only people who've ever made comments to me are people who've had the same surgery and recognize the mark. We always compare "I got this in a bar fight" stories. ;)

Anyway, this is just a quick update to say that, one year later, 'Rightie the Mighty' is still knockin' out enough TSH and T4 for all of us. (Which is an awesome thing to brag about when Mr. C and I go running. "Boy, you have two thyroids. I only have one. You can run faster than that!") I got my blood levels checked today for the first time since last summer and everything is still normal. (I also found out I have aMAzing cholesterol. I am old enough to need that checked now? *shiver*) I am so grateful for normal check-ups again. :)

(Miss the whole gory story? You can check it out here.)

Cleaning No. 1: Bathtub Drain ***Update***

If this blog was a legitimate news source, this is what you would refer to as a "No News Day." Hence the update on my eco-war against our shower drain. How are things going?

Well, one pound of baking soda, one quart of vinegar, and several gallons of boiling water later, I gave up, went to Target, and bought a bottle of Drano. And now our shower is draining beautifully. :)

But in the defense of natural cleaning products, there are very few products - natural or otherwise - that can win the battle against my hair. (In fact, I really can't think of any outside of a legion of bobby pins and a can of Aqua Net.) I think the 'white gold' solution may work better as a maintenance tool rather than a last ditch effort. In the long run, I think I'll be better off investing in a drain guard. You know, to like, avoid the whole situation all together. What a novel idea! :)

Have you had better luck? Any tips?

Happy Mother's Day!

I know I'm a few days late, but Mama and Papa V. were actually in town, so I think that's a legitimate excuse for belated tidings. :) We spent the past few days running around Old Town and thinking of rain-induced Plan Bs - the Smithsonian's Udvar-Hazy Center adjacent to Dulles is a wonderfully dry alternative to slogging it out at the Air and Space Museum downtown - but it was fun to have my parents for the weekend, regardless of the weather. At least Mother's Day itself was gorgeous!

In case you've never met Mama V., I just want to tell you that she is pretty much the coolest mama around. Hands down. Easy peasy. And that makes me the luckiest daughter in the world.

Love you, Mom. Thanks for making the trek down this weekend. (And for the French Toast. ;) XO.

Cleaning No. 1: The Bathtub Drain

Despite Mr. C's luscious locks of hair, Nora and I are usually the front runners in our household "who can shed the most" competition. Sometimes, like in the case of the vacuum cleaner, we even work together for maximum clogginess, but unfortunately the bathtub drain is all my doing. (Nibbles has not taken a bath since the "Super Fleas of 2011" incident.) Sister V. trained me at a young age to always clean the drain post-shower - former roomies, you can all thank her - but our new shower has this nice cover that hides all unpleasantness. So I forget about it until 'the problem' starts.

A few weeks ago, I solved the problem by pulling the drain cover off and removing something akin to Swamp Thing. (No joke. Even I was revolted and it was my hair.) But this week the problem is back and there's no visible fix. Which means Swamp Thing had a twin and it's gone to ground. Joy. (Nora loves when this happens because it means she can play "Watering Hole" after every shower. I keep thinking she will get more normal with age, but I swear that cat is just becoming more neurotic.)

In the past, this is when I go out and buy Drano, but I thought I'd try something different this time. Inspired by Pinterest and my lack of cleaning supply storage space, I've slowly been switching over to less and healthier cleaning products. (Right now this equates to buying Method multi-purpose cleaner which smells divine and buying fragrance-free detergent, but you know, I'm working on it...) Mommy bloggers seem to swear by baking soda and vinegar for clogs - although calling it "white gold" seems a bit much ;) - so I thought I'd give it a shot. White Gold vs. Swamp Thing. At the very least, I figured I'd have an interesting science project.

Recipes vary, but I settled on 1/2 cup of baking soda, followed by 1 cup of vinegar. It was a little hard to cram the baking soda down the drain, but once the vinegar hit it, it dissolved pretty quickly. I let it sit for 15 minutes, than flushed it down with a kettle of boiling water. Result? A little better (maybe?) but the drain still seemed a bit slow. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. On to Round 2.

With the same lukewarm results.

I stopped there, before I ended up dumping the entire bottle of vinegar down the drain, and decided to see how it handles during tomorrow's round of showers. Mr. C's pretty honest about these things. He'll let me know if it's better or not. I'll keep you posted.

Have you ever tried using baking soda and vinegar on clogs before? Did it work for you?

NTOTD No. 20: Talking to Street Activists

It happened today. One of them caught me.

Regardless of the cause (and even if I agree with it), I will do pretty much anything to avoid street activists, including, but not limited to: crossing the street, ducking into a store until they prey on some other unsuspecting soul, or carrying on a serious conversation with my they-don't-know-the-battery-is-dead cellphone. But the one thing I can't do is be rude, so if eye contact is made, I'm dead in the water. Sure, you excitable college student, you. Tell me all about your good cause.

I do respect their general enthusiasm - and am somewhat envious of it, in my own introverted way - but I am like the street activist's worst nightmare: the faster you talk, the more I disbelieve you. Sorry, Dave. You crammed too much into one minute. Blame the bus schedule. (I did.) I had to go.

(Also, calling me "rainforest girl" was not endearing, as was asking for my money before asking for my contact information. Would you ask a girl to buy you a drink before you got her digits? Come on. Better luck with the tourists, my friend. #donthasslemeimlocal.)

I am also, apparently, a grumpy old man. ;)

Craft No. 12: Postcard Wall Art

The other day I was FaceTiming Mama V. when I had to prop up the phone mid-chat for 'clean up Nora's vomit' duty. (In our family, we don't hang up for those things. ;) Children - even well-behaved ones that don't do anything to her - make Nora extremely anxious, so after our friends and their munchkins left on Sunday, the poor thing crawled out from two days under the bed and let it all out. Multiple times. And amazingly, all on the hard wood! (Never despise the day of small beginnings. Usually she heads for the carpet.)

Regardless, I digress. This post is not about Nora's acid reflux. This post is about my new art wall that Mama V. noticed when I propped her up on the dining room table. Our kitchen is pretty small and doesn't have a whole lot of wall space, but it does face a large swath of our otherwise-too-narrow-to-hang-anything-and-see-it hallway. I thought it would be pretty to create a display that mirrors the dimensions of the kitchen opening, so I set to work scouring prints, photos, and frames from around the apartment. And here's what I came up with:

I'm not quite done yet - I still have that really narrow empty spot on the right side and the couple of feet to the floor - but I used what we had and I'm happy with the progress. Don't let those design blogs fool you: it is really hard to "match" mismatching frames! I had these laid out on the living room floor for a couple of days before I finally whipped out the ol' Command Strips.

My dream kitchen is a mix of white, turquoise, and red - conveniently also our wedding colors - so I ignored the beige colored wall (It's not so noticeable when you're standing in our pale yellow kitchen.) and went to town. Here's a quick rundown:

I love my Fisher Price people print, but I bought it almost five years ago and I can't remember the seller's name anymore. I know she's on Etsy. Does it look familiar to anyone? And I can't take or give credit for the Dickens quote poster either. (I know. I'm batting .000) It wasn't my idea and the source has disappeared from my Google Reader. Someone was giving these away for free (+shipping) last year, and when I missed the cut, I went out and made my own. Does anyone remember who that was? (When Drew walks by it, he always starts singing Chumbawamba's Tubthumping. So wrong. ;)

But at least I know where these two came from! The morning of our wedding, Drew sent me (via one of his groomsmen ;) our invitation suite in a beautiful custom matt and frame. That was actually the first thing to go on the wall. Everything else had to work around it. (Including the obligatory smoochy wedding photo!)

The Catherine Holm-y print is from Etsy seller handz. I'd had my eye on it for a long time, but was too cheap to shell out for shipping from the Czech Republic. I put it on my Christmas list instead and it showed up sometime around my birthday. 'Cause that's how my family rolls - celebrating holidays on their actual dates is so Hallmark. We spread it out all year long. (Or at least until mid-summer when Mama V. has most likely discovered all the forgotten Christmas presents in the back of her closet. ;)

And last but not least - it is, in fact, the reason for this very long post - is this little vintage postcard triptych you may remember from a Tuesday Thrifting post back in February. It was the perfect size for the wall, so I moved it from it's previous spot in the living room, but - alas! - it was the only piece on the wall not living up to the "red and blue" theme. (The blue sky and American flag above the White House notwithstanding. The colors don't pop inside all the black frames.) So I set to work.

I wanted to print a quote about D.C. over the three postcards in red, so I poked around for a good saying and found the perfect one by - who else? - Charles Dickens. During his visit in 1842, he called it "the city of magnificent intentions." He was referring to streets that led to nowhere, sporadic and random buildings, and a general lack of population, but I think the same could be said for it now, both earnestly and sarcastically. Irony: I love it.

I am not a typography expert by any means, so I fiddled around with each card before deciding on the font. The layout was a bit more random than I wanted - printers do not like when I tell them to do weird things - but it turned out to be a happy accident. I especially like how "THE" and "OF" printed off the edge. :) 

Other than fidgeting with the printer, this was probably the easiest craft ever. I was a bit worried the printer ink would overpower the faded colors on the cards, but I forgot to take into account the paper's gloss. It didn't want to let the ink sink in and for once that was a good thing. The type looks stamped instead of printed, which is a nice, subtle effect.

Ahhh...much better. Now to finish the rest of the wall! What about you? Any fun crafts lately? I've been slacking off since my sewing machine broke, but I think this got the juices flowing again! :)