Forward Stumbling

Baltimore Running Festival Recap

2010-10-17T22:47:00.011-04:00

Way back in July, Justin and I shared a Where Have We Been?!? post, thinking that we would start updating this little blog a bit more frequently… That hasn’t exactly happened. In that post, we shared about all of the things we were busy doing – like job searching, running, and blogging. We could excuse the lack of posts since then with the fact that, perhaps unfortunately,… not much has changed. Well, things have changed (drastically actually!), but we’ve still found ourselves job searching, running, and blogging…

Wow, really exciting post, right? Nothing’s changed, blah, blah, blah… Well, I’ll try to spice it up for you a bit by sharing with you about our fun* weekend in Baltimore! (*the term “fun” I realize is somewhat individual – some people would find our weekend torturous!)

If you’re already a friend on facebook or a follower on twitter (yes, I convinced Justin to join twitter! WIN!!!… now getting him to see it’s value is a different matter…), you may already know that we traveled to Maryland this weekend to participate in the Baltimore Running Festival, which is comprised of a full and half marathon, as well as a relay and 5k.

Justin and I have been training for many, many months in anticipation of this event. Like, way too many months if you consider all the early Friday nights (in preparation for Saturday runs) and weekday 5:00 a.m track workouts… But I’ll stop complaining because, hey, we choose this, right? The thing about training for really anything is that it really begins to consume a ton of your time, conversation, and physical and mental energy. We were both more than ready to see if and how all our hard work had paid off (and to eat some crab cakes… the true motivation for all these shenanigans).

When we registered for Baltimore, we thought we would be living in the city and drive about 20 minutes to the start of the race. Due to our change in situation, 20 minutes became… oh… nine hours. Fortunately, the drive from Cincinnati was relatively easy (despite some early morning stomach issues for me) and the red, orange, and yellow-leaved tree covered mountains were stunning. It’s drives like these that make me realize just how beautiful this country of ours really is. We got to Baltimore on Thursday evening and checked into a hotel. We headed over to the race expo, which was expertly laid out to make you walk about a mile through hundreds of vendors selling superfluous running gear in order to simply pick up your race bib. Tricky little devils. We managed to make it out only slightly poorer than when we started, with me picking up a lightweight headband to keep my ears warm on race day.

On Friday we went out for a short run to keep our legs warmed up for Saturday, running at an easy pace for a couple miles near the stadium. Not sure if you’re aware, there are some shady parts of Baltimore. Shocking, I know! Fortunately we were able to stay in safer spots and only ran in daylight there. We spent the rest of Friday visiting the Baltimore Aquarium and exploring Fells Point. On a side note, have I ever mentioned on here Justin’s love affair with aquariums? He almost proposed to me at the Newport Aquarium, in fact… but I guess thought better of having sharks overlook our special moment. Something about omens or ambiance or something…

Anyway, after a few delays, Justin parents’ flight finally made it in and we were able to grab a quick dinner and get to bed. 5:30 a.m. came when it usually does on Saturday morning – too freakin’ early. Fortunately, we were pretty anxious about the race and didn’t have much trouble getting up. After some stretching and a breakfast of peanut butter on whole wheat bread (gourmet, I know), we headed down to the starting line. Justin looks really excited on the way…

One of the very cool aspects of this race was getting to run through Camden Yards to the finish.

Justin and I posed for a quick photo before separating for our individual races – me the 5k and him the marathon. We were both pretty nervous, but you can’t tell, right? You also probably can’t tell how cold I was. I was literally shaking and my teeth chattering – which I much preferred to sweating before the start, but still wasn’t all that comfortable.

Justin’s marathon had a start time of 8:00 a.m., so around 7:40 he headed to the starting line and his parents and I looked on.

He looked so happy when he started! This would not last…….

As Justin headed out on his first few miles, I lined up at the same starting point for the 5k with about 3500 other runners. I was jumping up and down trying to stay warm, but still could not feel my toes. This didn’t seem optimal for being about to use them for 3.1 miles. As the race got underway, I still couldn’t feel them, which was an odd sensation. But I realized there wasn’t much I could do except move forward, so that’s what I did. I was (unpleasantly) surprised to see that the first 1.5 miles was uphill – a steady but challenging incline. I had only started training on hills and I was glad that I did, despite still feeling a bit unprepared for the incline. Per usual, I started off a bit too fast, but had a hard time holding back when a 10-year-old Justin Bieber look-a-like passed me. I just couldn’t have that. I pushed a bit harder and was neck and neck with the kid for the next mile or so, when he took off and my energy failed me a bit. Despite my newfound competitive edge, I managed to not totally blow my reserves and kept pushing.

If my next statement sounds cheesy, that’s because it totally is… But I really did continue to think about the incredible girls of Girls on the Run throughout the race. At one point I ran past a group of young teenage spectators and thought to myself that these were exactly the type of girls I was running for – bright young girls full of hope. I thought about the videos I had spent the previous week watching documenting the amazing achievements of the girls in the GOTR program – some of them bursting with tears of pride at completing a 5k. I kept these girls in mind as I pushed forward. In the end, I managed to achieve my goal of setting a new personal record (PR) of 24:40. I was exhausted, but all I could think about was racing to see Justin at Mile 13.

Unfortunately, I missed Justin at that mile, so I headed back to the finish to make sure I was in place to see him cross. His parents were stationed there and together we waited in anticipation for him to complete the race. Here he is coming towards the final 100 meters… I told you he didn’t look quite as happy! But we’ll cut him some slack as he did just run 26 miles at a really fast pace.

While he didn’t quite make the sub-three hour mark he was hoping for due to some unexpected hilliness, Justin did an absolutely amazing job with a chip time of 3:05:32.

He shaved 15 minutes off his PR and qualified for the Boston Marathon in April! I was a seriously camera happy, insanely proud wife! It took a while for Justin to recover from his delirium (he barely recognized me when I ran up to hug him) and fatigue, but once he did he was ready to celebrate his accomplishment with a big lunch and a long nap. Okay, we all were….

I just want to take this moment to (again) be cheesy and say thank you to all of the amazing people in our lives who supported us in achieving our goals this weekend. Thank you to everyone who sent texts, facebook messages, emails, and voicemails with words of encouragement, and an extra special thank you to those of you who donated financially to support me in raising money for Girls on the Run! You are all amazing!

Now, Boston anyone?

Where Have We Been?!?

2010-07-19T05:52:00.001-04:00

Wow. It's July. Mid-July even. Soon to be Late-July! Where does the time go?

It's been quite a while since we last posted on here and, seeing as how you all are so invested in keeping up-to-date on our lives, we thought we owed it to you to let you know we haven't been sitting around eating bon-bons. Speaking of, I'd really like to try a bon-bon at some point in my life... But I digress. So what have we been up to? Well, here goes...

Besides finishing up internship (seven weeks!!) and Justin finishing up his MBA (four weeks!!), one of the biggest tasks for us right now is getting Justin employed. Well, not just employed, but in the best possible position for him to utilize his skills (and hopefully make money?). The student loan sharks are going to be swimming up to our door soon, and it would be nice to have something for them =) Justin's currently looking for a position in marketing or brand management in the Baltimore area. Job searching is not fun, particularly not for a position a new city where you don't really know anyone. Justin's been extremely pro-active and diligent (are you surprised??) and we're confident he'll find something perfect. But it's tough day to day...

The next thing that's been occupying way too much time and brain-power is running. We're both training to race at the Baltimore Running Festival in October. As those of you who have trained for a race know, the actual running is only one aspect of the time-commitment. There's also mapping routes (love www.MapMyRun.com), stretching, cross-training, and complaining to your spouse about how sore you are.

We've also been trying to learn Spanish, mostly so we can eavesdrop on our lovely friend Lucia when she talks on the phone to her family. In reality, we've both wanted to learn Spanish for a long time, and we bought Tell Me More, a Rosetta Stone-like program, last December as our anniversary gift to each other. Romantic, right? I had all these visions of cuddling up and learning sweet phrases to say to one another... Little did I know that learning Spanish on the computer would cause more bickering than anything else we've ever done. Mostly over who gets to hold the mouse. It's bad. But we're sticking with it and learning to compromise!

Another major time-sucker has been blogging. I started a blog back in April called Nourishing the Soul that I'm sure most of you have heard me mention or have checked out. It's amazing just how much time blogging occupies!! I think I always thought that that I would simply sit down, write my little thoughts for the day, hit "post," and be done... Oh, no. I have found myself doing a great deal of research for each post, as well as spending lots of time keeping up with the blogging community and learning more about this whole new field.

Besides that we've been busy with weddings, trying to cook new recipes, finding a new apartment in B-more (post to come soon on that!), trying to hit up all the spots in Philly we haven't made it to yet, planning some upcoming camping trips, and trying to stay in touch with our family and friends, whom we miss A LOT!!!! We're hoping to keep this blog more frequently updated as well... But that will have to come second to SLEEP.

Biker Babes and More Cowbell

2010-06-08T21:59:00.004-04:00

Below you'll find some photos that I took at the recent Philadelphia International Championship,"America's top international cycling classic, and one of the richest and most prestigious one day races outside of Europe" (according to Wikipedia). But beyond that, it's one hell of a party! We had heard about this event when we first moved to Philly, and looked forward to it all year. Unfortunately, Justin had class all weekend and so I was flying solo. You can check out all the photos on my facebook page, but here are a few highlights:

There were hundreds of professional cyclists and many more cycling enthusiasts and spectators taking part in the day.

There were also a few spectator dogs, and the poor things were super hot. I guess I should feel worse for the cyclists riding the ten 14.4 mile loops (156 miles)...

The cyclists start at the Art Museum and work their way to Manayunk. This shot is on Main Street, a relatively easy stretch of the race.

Thousands of spectators of all ages lined the streets, and the roofs...

They passed out cow bells to ring when the cyclists passed by. I love this little one's sunglasses =)

I was amazed to see all the marshals, police, and other race officials. It's incredible how much planning and structure goes into an event like this. I love the look on this marshal's face!

And here they come! This part of the race is called the "Manayunk Wall" and is an insanely steep (17-percent grade) hill that is basically like pedaling up a vertical wall. I can attest to this from walking up it. It sucks.

This is my AstraZeneca ad. Sorry, Dad.

Sweet, huh?

I loved people watching. At this house they were doing jump rope with a land-line telephone (you can tell if you look closely). Drunk people jumping rope = extraordinarily smart.

Friend and fellow intern, Josh, with his bell!

I think this is my favorite. I love the look on the face of the guy in green. He's like, "Oh, no you don't!"

Farmer's Marketing

2010-05-24T19:41:00.000-04:00

Justin now has four classes left to complete his MBA. Four classes now stand between us and a cramming-for-the-next-exam-free lifestyle. We haven't both been out of school since we met, so it'll be quite a change for us both to be on similar schedules and both have an income (despite the fact that mine should really only count as half of an income)... But back to the four classes. One of these classes happens to be held over the course of three weekends this summer, which did not please me at all. Summer weekends are so precious! However, I devised a plan that while Justin is spending between 8-12 hours per weekend day learning business-y things, I am going to try to take advantage of the plethora of farmer's markets in Philadelphia.

This weekend I checked out the Chestnut Hill Farmer's Market, which is about 20 minutes from where we live. It was small but packed with tons of beautiful fresh food and some not so beautiful (but I'm sure tasty) cuts of meat. There were stands of comfort food, sushi, baked goods, prepared Italian salads, Mexican fare, fresh flowers, and even a sign shop that sold one with the phrase "Gone to Therapy" that I was tempted to buy... I took some photos while there that you can check out below. I had a hard time, however, due to trying balance a camera with bags of stuff I bought and the horrible fluorescent lighting. Oh well... I'll be more prepared on my next trip.

Falling in Love in Graduate School: A Photo Recap

2010-05-09T20:21:00.000-04:00

With our commencement ceremony just a few days away, I got to thinking this weekend about the past five years of graduate school. I generally try to avoid thinking about this because it at times causes a post-traumatic stress reaction, but since avoidance is part of the problem, I tired to willingly embrace the memories (yes, going a little ACT on you). Of course, not all of graduate school was traumatic. In fact, much of it was stimulating, challenging, and even, yes, rewarding. And perhaps the most rewarding thing to come out of graduate school is the friends that I made along the way (and meeting my husband of course!). Yes, you figured it out - this is to be a mushy post. You may want to quit now if you aren't fond of the "we'll be BFFs always!!!!!" and kumbaya type of entry. But if you are, I'm sharing some photos I've dug up (electronically, of course) highlighting the (friendship) road to the doctorate...

This was on the night of my 21st birthday at the end of first year. I had to go the entire year without drinking!!!! (read with sarcasm) We were waiting until midnight to go out. I don't think Shannon made it ;-)

So many nights spent at the Hofbrahaus. We could always count on John as a partner in crime.

The good old APAGS Halloween Party. Could always be counted on for inexplicable drama.

The Holiday Party was one of my favorite events. Professors chugging from flasks in the bathroom just can't really be topped. Oh wait, it can when they then start dancing.

I cannot believe Shannon wore the controversial t-shirt to the Reds game. Well, maybe I can.

Again at Hofbra - this time with my then future-husband in tow. He's always been our favorite sixth wheel!

After our second year we received our Master's, which was unfortunately kind of anti-climactic. We were back in class three days later. However, it was still a reason to celebrate. Mmmm, Montgomery Inn!

Mulligan's on St. Patrick's Day - pretty much the best holiday ever celebrated.

APAGS Summer Party at Dr. Hellkamp's

After much talk, we finally planned and took our much anticipated trip to Vegas. This photo is from an evening I call "The Best Night of My Life." That's about all I can tell you.

And then the wedding festivities began, and I was so grateful to have these girls with me every step of the way! First up, the Couples Shower Tequila Shot. Doesn't everyone do that?

Then the Bachelorette Party!

And then a pre-wedding Obama Rally ;-)

And finally, the Wedding Day. I was so thrilled to have these ladies by my side. This deserves a few pictures... First, my loves with my love.

Pre-Wedding, Post-Shot @ MLTs

Mid-Wedding

And Post-Wedding - perhaps my favorite picture ever.

So thank you to my girls for your support, humor, and love over the past five years. I could not have done it without you.

Love,

Ashley

A New Identity: Help Needed!

2010-05-06T22:02:00.003-04:00

As you hopefully know by now, I recently started a more professional blog called Nourishing the Soul. Here's an excerpt from the introduction to give you a flavor:

This blog is focused on the struggles we have with eating and appreciating our bodies as beautiful, the directions that the fields of eating disorders advocacy and research are taking, and thoughts about recovery and self-improvement.

While I hope that you check it out, I actually need another favor right now. I'm working on developing a fuller "brand identity" (maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but I blame living with a brand marketer) and had Justin create some logos. While I have some thoughts, I'd love to get some feedback on what others are drawn to. I'm posting some of these and am happy to hear what you think, so please leave comments! Thanks in advance =)

Ashley

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Photo Blog :: Signs of Spring

2010-04-17T18:24:00.002-04:00

Granted, Spring has been rearing it's beautiful head for a few weeks now - at least in waves. But today I took notice of just how stunning some of the foliage is in Manayunk. So after my run I grabbed our camera to document some of the beauty just outside our door. Hope you're all enjoying the delicious weather!

Happy Spring!

Ashley

Prison Break

Violet

Tilted Petals

Sleeping Petals

Swirling Petals (My favorite!)

Tired Toes

Path to Heaven

Here Comes the Rain

The things I own...

2010-04-12T21:44:00.000-04:00

So I just took a look back at my blogging past and realized that I have not written a blog in almost 2 months. Two months… I have no explanation… I will just claim that it took me two months to dig our cars out of the multiple blizzards we received and just go on allowing you to think that I’m just now kicking the snow off my boots and able to take time away from my impossible task to write for a few minutes.

In reality, that is not the case at all… I have just been short on blogging topics with which to occupy the masses (this is me thinking there are throngs of people out there waiting with bated breath for me to write my next edition). I also feel like we have needed a lighter topic with which to fill our page, and honestly it has taken me a while to develop a topic… I’ve recently been involved in an “academic competition.” Yes… I know… I won’t go into that little expedition into the ever-interesting field of academic competitions, but none-the-less it is neither interesting or “light” so it will not suffice for the current matter.

No… for this I would like to talk about the things I own.

I know in the past I have made some references to my Geo… So what better object to begin the diatribe; My 1996 white (with a black front bumper) Geo Prizm. No they don’t make Geo’s any more… which was much more rare until about 5 months ago when a lot of car brands became extinct. Alas, it is now 14 years old - and sounds like it… when listening to it you could probably more easily equate it to a boat than a car… maybe there’s a muffler problem, but to me it hardly seems like it is worth taking care of at this point in its life. However, as I write this I think about the long and storied history of the car. (cue birds chirping, fluffy clouds floating in a blue sky, and a sun that sings and smiles)

When I got the Geo in 2002 it was used, and within about six months of the acquisition, the pant started chipping off the front bumper (clearly a bad repair job by the previous owner). Unfortunately, starting around that point (where I pulled out the paint scrappers and just decided to take all the paint off the bumper) I decided that the car was destined to die and it really wasn’t worth much love and attention…

However, here I am 8 years later driving around the same car that every winter I assure myself is going to be the last year of the Geo… I guess it’s the Toyota motor in it or something… but it just won’t seem to die. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining (too much), I have neither the money, time, or decision-making ability to pick out a new car at this point. Thus, I continue to drive around a car that now has a matte finish (I gave up waxing it around 2004), is incredibly dirty (I don’t think I’ve washed it in two years, thank God for rain), and sounds like a boat or small aircraft that you would never trust to get you anywhere safely. It did have a near-death experience about a year or so ago when the transmission broke, but knowing that I was not going to have an income for the next year I decided it best to sink the money into it (goodbye wedding money) and hope it makes it until we both have incomes. But alas, the Geo keeps on running, so I’m holding onto it until it dies or I somehow receive the financial means to buy a new one, I’m not holding my breath.

I have a Mac. I know… WOW you have a Mac? You must love it, that’s so great, everyone loves Macs. And I do… it’s all true. I do love my Mac. I love how it looks and I love the overall simplicity of the whole thing. The only problem is my Mac is 7 years old, and thus a solid two years past its useful life. Like anything that’s old, it’s just not quite as great as it used to be. While it used to feel like it was lightning fast, now it feels like it moves at the same pace as the people who walk in front of your car in the ghetto… I may be exaggerating, it’s much faster than that. The worst thing is that it’s not slow just when I open a program or do something that involves heavy quantities of RAM, it has gotten to the point where if I do so much as type two letters too fast I get the little wheel of death while it tries to decide how exactly it should go about putting that “N” after the “I.”

For our wedding we received a number of very nice and generous gifts. One such gift came from my brother and his fiancée - a nice set of living room tables. These tables were very nice, a nice dark brown finish that looked very nice with our off-white couches. However, due in large part to some nail-painting mishaps (see previous entry about Ashley’s nail painting obsession) the once beautiful coffee table now has two large white splotches where nail products have removed the finish. Upon telling Ashley that our coffee table now looks like it has cancer, and there is no way we can possibly have anyone over to our house, she assured me that we could strategically place bowls, drinks, napkins and other such materials on the table in such a way as to make it look totally normal. So if any of our loyal readers happen to come over in the future to find our house clean other than the coffee table, which for some reason has three plants, two napkins, eight glasses of water, and a cat on it, you’ll know why.

Shortly after I met Ashley she moved into a new apartment and had to purchase new couches that would fit in the provided space. The furniture was attractive, affordable, and quite comfortable as well. They are contemporary and an off-white color, well, they were an off white color. In yet another, separate, nail-polish incident, a bottle of burgundy nail polish was left on the couch without the lid fully secured, thus causing the couch to match our beautiful table. They now both look like they have leprosy or are going through chemotherapy together, what an adorable couple… Not that the nail polish is the only thing on the couch, there are plenty of other marks as well. One time someone slept on the couch, on top of a pen. Wouldn’t that be a little uncomfortable? Somehow, in a feat of extreme dexterity, he managed to have the pen scribble all-over one cushion without ever stabbing himself with said pen during the night, truly amazing. However, the couch still does have its extreme comfort going for it. After my father spent 4 nights on the couch (which I was convinced he would hate) he informed me that he had the best 4 nights of sleep of his life on our couch.

Now, I don’t want to give anyone the impression that I only have junky stuff, because when I say that to Ashley she never fails to remind me that she is not junky, which is totally true. I then must rephrase my statement to say I only own junky stuff, and that I don’t own her. She then thinks for a minute and stops arguing… But we do have a lot of nice stuff, well at least nice from a “we got it at IKEA” standpoint. I keep thinking that once we find jobs we will slowly be able to replace all of my junky things… the only problem is that I need to find a company willing to hire someone who drives up in a Geo…

Respect on the Dance Floor

2010-03-18T22:02:00.000-04:00

Do you remember your prom? The jittery feeling in your stomach awaiting Mr. Hottie (Wo)Man to ask you to go. The relentless shopping for the perfect dress (with push-up bra inserts, of course). The thrill of figuring out how to hide vodka in your tiny handbag. Sigh... To be young again.

I myself attended both my Junior and Senior year proms at Covington Latin School, each with two very different dates. Senior year I was escorted by my boyfriend at the time and soaked up every ounce of the "We're so in love and will never be apart!!=)!!!!" bliss on the dancefloor. Junior year was somewhat of a different story... I was asked to the milestone dance by my "husband" in the Junior Class Play - a painfully too-intelligent (read: nerdy) classmate who was younger than I was (and yes, I was not even 15 at the time!).It was an awkward evening, to say the least...

The point of all this is not in fact to highlight the ineptness of my prom days, but rather to point out the simple, but easily overlooked, fact that when it came to prom, I had the right to choose my date. Despite my lack-luster junior year escort (who is now, I'm quite sure, a millionaire who created the Twitter or the iPhone or something equally insane), I had the opportunity to say "yes" or "no". And that is a right that I believe all starry-eyed, acne-faced teenagers should have as well.

When my mom called me at college to tell me that my brother Dylan, at the ripe old age of 12, had revealed to her that he was gay, she shed many tears for her son. She was not disappointed in the outcome of his sexuality, but she cried out of fear for the way in which her youngest child might be treated by others who were less educated and less tolerant of human difference. I myself simply exclaimed, "Finally!" But I also worried about what the future might hold for Dylan.

Five years later, Dylan has grown into a ridiculously intelligent and socially-conscious young man, one that anyone would be more than proud to call "brother". And he is now facing what is, unfortunately, only one of the first instances of blatant discrimination for his sexuality. He is being told he cannot take the person of his choice to prom.

To some this may seem like a small issue. Some might encourage me to focus on bigger issues, like whether Dylan will be able to marry and create a family with the person of his choice. Or whether he will be denied employment opportunities due to his lifestyle. But I believe that the issue of the school dance is one of vital importance, both for its practical and symbolic implications. While I am not going to go into great detail about my views on the importance of equality for the LGBQT community (for lack of time and space, not interest in telling you), but I will briefly explain why I think this is such an important issue.

Prom is, in a way, a reflection of some of the most important values in our culture - friendship, romance, independence, transitions, and overly expensive shoes. It symbolizes a moving from the constraints of childhood into the ever-so-frightening world of adulthood and it allows us the opportunity to share that joy, and possibly anxiety, along with a person we care about - a person we choose, as a reflection of our growing independence.

And then a school comes in and puts a big ole stop to all that... "No, everyone else can share in the company of the person they care about, but not you. You're different. And we don't like that very much. Or we at least don't want the Archdiocese to think that we like that."

Now, I understand that high schools, both public and parochial, are often faced with difficult issues when it comes to such matters. However, I fail to understand how a school that promotes "loving they neighbor" as a key value and acceptance of diversity as part of the mission can then deny one of their own the opportunity to express his individuality and fullness-of-self in a school-supported context. Call me a crazy liberal, but sounds like hypocrisy to me.

My brother Zachary made a nice point when he wrote, "You don't have to accept gay rights, but you have to respect them." While I do not realistically expect the Catholic Church to accept homosexuality (though optimistically do), respecting the rights of all people is fundamental to the doctrine. And to deny a young man (or woman) the right to enjoy the company of a chosen companion hardly feels like respect. Not only does it serve to diminish the feelings and destroy the self-esteem of the student, but it teaches the rest of the community that respect for human differences is conditional.

I could elaborate much further on this issue, but I am choosing not to do so, in favor of encouraging you to consider your own thoughts and feelings on the matter. If you agree, please take a look at the petition Dylan and I created to make a small (but hopefully powerfully) dent in the armor of La Salle administrators. Check it out here: http://www.gopetition.com/online/34216.html.And take a second to also read through some of the comments posted by others, some of which have brought me to tears.

I did not cry when Dylan told us he was gay. I think in my heart I knew that he would be strong enough to withstand the questioning of his choices and the assault on his rights, despite the pain it causes in my heart to know he must. I think that I also knew that he would never have to do it alone. I hope that you will help in that effort.

The Seven...well, Three... Deadly Sins at Sea

2010-03-14T21:31:00.005-04:00

Justin and I recently took our first cruise, a type of vacation that we had never really considered. I tend to like old cities, culture, amazing local dining, and Justin tends to prefer exotic landscapes, interesting wildlife, and trying to kill the two of us under the guise of "adventure". So the thought of being stuck in the midst of tourism at its finest had never really appealed to us. However, it turns out that cruises can be mighty affordable little vacations, especially when they can be funded by American Airline vouchers, which we had received after giving up our seats coming home from our honeymoon (who wouldn't want to extend your honeymoon by a couple more hours?!?). So we scheduled our cruise to coincide with Justin's spring break from La Salle and headed off on the grand ship to Key West and Cozumel.

Now, it's amazing to me that these vessels even sail, considering their size and the almost 4,000 people scarfing down hot dogs and magaritas on board. And that brings me to the first, and most obvious, "deadly sin" aboard a cruise: gluttony. Holy cow... I have never in my life seen such abundance. If you take a step back from the grilled fish and the Chinese buffet and the ice cream stand (not that you'd want to...), it really can make you sick, considering all of those who go hungry on a daily basis. Not that this sickness stopped us... Several pounds added later, we don't know if eating five meals a day was really the best option.

Our first stop on the cruise was Key West, FL. This was where another deadly sin comes in: lust. Namely, I was lusting after a beautiful watch that was a bit out of our price range... like $4500 out of our price range. Probably not the most responsible thing to spend our tax refund on, huh? Key West seemed like the place to be, especially with the 40-year-old women dancing on tables at 11 a.m. Watching the debauchery around us, I suddenly realized my father's fascination with this place... and got a little frightened.

The next stop on our adventure was Cozumel, Mexico, where we were met by a tequila bar ten feet after getting off of the boat. Unforunately we were unable to partake (much to Justin's dissappointment...) because we had to catch a ferry to the mainland. One word on the ferry ride: vomit. It was the most intense boat ride I've ever been on and made someone who can read upside down while driving a car motion sick (that would be me). After 45 minutes on this hell ship, we finally arrived at Playa del Carmen where we boarded a bus (mercifully much smoother) for an hour ride to Tulum, a city formerly occupied by the Mayans. I was a little camera happy here (I had to fit into my American tourist role, right?)...

The rest of our cruise experience was spent engaged in the last deadly sin that I'll discuss: sloth. Okay, no not really. Justin and I would probably have an aneurism if we actually tried to relax for too long. In fact, my reaction to all the downtime was to sign us up for an on-board spinning class in the ship's fitness center. I thought Justin was going to kill me when I told him the class was non-refundable. But, fortunately, we both survived the experience and felt a little less guilty about the third entree we ordered at dinner that night (yes, each of us). In fact, we really did relax a little bit on the rest of the trip, laying out in the wind (there wasn't much sun, sadly), having some cocktails, and playing lots of five-dollar blackjack.

The trip was a much needed getaway after several months of school, work, and interviewing stress and we were really forunate to be able to do it. Our next big trip will be to Cincinnati in May! (A little too excited about that, perhaps?)

Update on Adventures in Interviewing

2010-02-28T21:11:00.000-05:00

Welcome back, our lovely blog-enthusiasts. I just wanted to fill you in on the results on my adventures in interviewing for a post-doc position. As many of you probably know by now, I was offered (and accepted) a fellowship at The Center for Eating Disorders at Sheppard Pratt, which is a psychiatric hospital in Baltimore. No, I did not have to pack heat for the interview, and they have secured parking! Th decision was an extremely difficult one for Justin and I due to all kinds of different complicating factors, but we ultimately decided that The CED @ SP (I love acronyms!) had the coolest facebook page of any of the sites I interviewed at, so we couldn't turn it down. While that wasn't really the deciding factor, you really can check it out on facebook and their website is pretty cool too, with a virtual tour and blog and everything! Progressive for a psych hospital, huh? Check it out here! So next year I'll be working with individuals with eating disorders in the inpatient and partial hospitalization programs, supervising students (Ahhhhhh!!!!), doing some assessment, and hopefully some research as well. Pretty exciting stuff. We'll also be working on figuring out how to get closer to home in the future, though we're happy to decrease our distance by two hours this time! Eight hours is totally do-able..... Anyway, our next step is to find Justin a job in the Baltimore vicinity. So more adventures in interviewing to come!

As a bonus, I'm including some photos I took while on my interviewing travels. Thanks for all your support during this process!

30th Street Station in Philadelphia

En route to Boston

Michigan Avenue, Chicago

Adventures in Interviewing (Part I)

2010-02-21T16:12:00.001-05:00

Job interviews... Some might compare these lovely exercises in awkwardness to other fun tasks in life, like waiting in line at the DMV, or visiting the gyno, or puching one's self in the face. So maybe I exaggerate (Justin tells me I get this tendency from my mom...), but regardless, interviewing ranks fairly low on things I'd like to spend a Friday afternoon doing. However, the process of interviewing generally goes along with the whole "getting a job" process, and so I attempt to take on this undesirable challenge with grace and determination. And a bag of M&M's, my pre- (and, okay, post-) airport splurge.

Before I go on about the process of interviewing, I want to make perfectly clear that I do not mean to minimize the fact that many in our society today would give up their first-born to have be interviewing for jobs right now. Well, maybe not their first-born, but perhaps their dog. No, maybe just their cat. But still.... The job market, to put it simply, sucks big time. And I feel extremely blessed to have the opportunity to "strut my stuff" with the expectation that I will be employed come September.

But let's talk a little about interviewing. As much as I want to pull out my Personnel Psychology textbooks from graduate school and bore you all with the reserach on interviewing, I'll refrain. Suffice it to say, interviews have fairly low validity and often worse reliability. In fact, unstructured interviews have the lowest validity and reliability of any selection tool. And yet, it's rare to find an employer who is willing to hire an individual for a job, particularly a professional one, without having him/her come to the office to check out that the person has all of their teeth. Particularly dentists - they get picky about that.

So despite the lack of solid evidence for interviews as a measure of job performance, work ethic, or really anything other than being able to follow the complicated map to Suite 512 in Super Large Building, we are still asked to partake in the the scripted dance:

Dr. Jones: "Why, hello! It's so nice to meet you. Did you have any trouble finding the place?"

Nervous Nelly: "It's so nice to meet you too! Oh no, not at all. The directions you gave me were so helpful!"

DJ: "Oh good, well we're glad you're here. So, what do you think of the weather this week?"

NN: "Oh it's just been terrible! I just cannot wait for it to stop [raining/snowing/being so beautiful out]!"

And on it goes, in a fairly predictable fashion, for oh, thirty minutes to one hour. Then you proceed to do it again with Dr. Peters, and then Dr. Harris.

The fun, psychologist-y part comes in trying to figure out what the interviewer is thinking of you. You know, because we psychologist-types are mind readers and all. Possibilities include, "She's wearing panty hose? I haven't seen those since 1996," or "Wow, I should really get that chair she's sitting in reupholstered." When I begin to worry that the interviewer is more focused on their office decor than on me, my tactic is to say something really helpful, like, "Will I be able to bring my pet ferret in for Take Your Child to Work Day?" or "What's the office policy on romantic relationships with your supervisor?" Then I wink, particularly if she's female.

Another important lesson regarding reading the interviewr is to ensure you are making necessary adjustments as you determine what the interviewer wants you to say. A recent example (slightly modified):

"So, Ashley, tell me about your personal policy regarding self-disclosure."

"Well, Dr. Rigid Pants (the modification), I make sure that I understand the individual needs of the client and determine my level of self-disclosure based on what will be most helpful in promoting tehir well-being." (Note intentional vagueness.)

"So that means...?"

"So in practice I tend to be fairly open about self-disclosure, as I work from a relational model that emphasizes genuiness."

"Well, we're not genuine here. We can't have clients coming to our houses with baseball bats."

"Oh you're not? Well, I'm not really genuine either. I am actually very behavioral. No self-disclosure. Nope. Not at all. I try not to even reveal my name if I can help it."

"Oh good, I'm so glad to hear that, as I think you will fit so well with our team!"

The point here is that the interview is a human interaction, one based on first impressions, stereotyping, and all kinds of other social psychological principles that boil down to the fact that.... drumroll.... We like people who like and are like us. And we decide such things quickly. Very quickly in fact - some suggest less than 30 seconds. Thus, the most helpful thing that I believe you can do to prepare for an interview is buy an expensive (or expensive-looking) suit and brush your teeth really well.

Those are the words of wisdom from someone who has interviewed approximately seventeen times in the past year or so and who is in the midst of preparing for an interview tomorrow. I just hope I didn't forget my toothrush!

Good luck to anyone who is similarly taking on this challenge. I'd love to hear words of wisdom or horror stories =)

An Impossible Task

2010-02-06T16:35:00.007-05:00

While this is certain to be the least eloquent, photographically captivating, or thought provoking post so far, the main point is really only to convey the nearly impossible task I have in front of me over the next couple of days.

In the last 16 hours we have been hit by, to my best measurement, 18" of snow. While the snow is beautiful, the Geo is not so great at getting over small speed bumps yet alone plowing through 18" of snow. Which means that I need to dig it out... not only from the parking spot but also the parking lot leading to the street... Then there's Ashley's car, while slightly more powerful than the Geo, it is the farthest car from the street... Now, there has been a path shoveled, it is more suitable for walking through than driving... so, somehow I need to make the path about three times as wide all the way to the street so she can get to work... Luckily, Ashley doesn't go to work until Tuesday... So I have 2 days to accomplish this mammoth feat... I guess for now you can just enjoy the pictures while I worry about the cars.

Oh Yes, I'm Going There... Tiger & Trust

2010-01-24T12:54:00.000-05:00

After serious consideration, I have decided to tackle the Tiger Woody, ooops, I mean Woods, "issue". This choice of topic for our blog was not taken lightly, I would like to add. In fact, I debated for quite some time as to whether to broach the subject for fear that my inner Feminista Bitch might overtake my more rational, empathic, and psychologically-informed mind and spew some things that might one day come back to haunt me. This still might happen - we'll have to see. Read on...

I ultimately chose to blog on this subject because, well, it's interesting to people. Who doesn't love a good sex scandal to help melt away the humdrum of "get up, go to work, eat dinner, go to bed"? And more importantly, as a newly married woman, it has personal relevance. Not that I am sleeping with Tiger Woods, of course (Except for that one really hot night in Miami... I mean, who can resist that nine iron? Seriously...), but because at the heart of this topic, beneath the celebrity and a damaged SUV and the pay-offs to random women, is a family, now broken. And who can't relate to that? Or, at least, to the fear of that?

A quick Google auto-complete of "Tiger Woods" reveals endings like "affair", "mistress", "scandal", "jokes", "wife", and "latest". And that's in order of popularity. Hmmm.... wasn't this a golfer we're talking about? Potentially the greatest athlete of the 20th century? And yet words like "Masters" or even "sponsorship" are nowhere to be found. Putting in "Tiger Woods Go--" brings up the word "gossip" before "golf". Pret-ty crazy (and yes, I realize I spend inordinate amounts of time on Google). This tells me two things about our culture at large: 1.) We as humans exemplify ridiculous levels of schadenfreude due to our own dissatisfaction with life (and thus need to get a life) [and/or] 2.) Men cheat. Alot.

Okay, okay... before I get angry comments on here (though that implies readership...), I will make the very necessary statement: Women cheat too. The National Marriage Project, a great consortium out of the University of Virginia, tells us that, in fact, approximately 15% of women and 25% of men have reported having had extramarital sex at least once. And, yes, those numbers are statistically significantly different, so men are, in fact, more likely to cheat. But the "women are better" argument is not what this blog is really about, so we'll move on. Based on those numbers, one in four men will cheat on their wives at some point. One. In. Four. I don't know about you, but that sounds like a lot to me. That's more than experience premature baldness or get cancer or smoke cigarettes. But not more than watch the Superbowl, of course [sigh....].

This 25% statistic, in fairness, does include men who are now divorced. When considering only men who are currently married, the number drops to 16%. While we won't even venture to guess what might have led to a termination of the marital contract.....suffice it to say that these numbers become a little more hopeful. And further, the number of men who consider an affair "always wrong" has actually increased significantly since the 1970's and continues to rise. But before you start smiling blissfully and packing your sweetheart's lunch, remember that answering that something is "always wrong" on a survey you filled out online and turning down the offer for a bathroom quickie from Tina in accounting are two very different things. And, alas, evolutionary psychology tells us that while there are factors that make men less likely to cheat (e.g. not wanting CaveChick's dad to throw that big rock at his head), it would take thousands of years for our species to become truly monogamous.

So knowing all this, why do we choose (at least the majority of us) to enter in monogamous relationships, the culmination of which being marriage? I suppose I could talk about research on the psychological and physical health advantages, the financial savings, or the social and career benefits derived from matrimony, but instead I'll get more personal. I chose to get married because everything in my heart and mind told me that that was what I was meant to do. Not to get married for the sake of the institution of course, but to get married to Justin. This is not to say that some or all of the above named factors did not, at some unconscious level, operate on me to induce this desire to marry Justin. However, I, hopelessly romantic despite my rigorous scientific training, would prefer to believe that I married Justin because I loved him. And because I didn't want (I won't say couldn't) to live a single day without him. And because he has a cute butt that I didn't want anyone else to touch. Ever.

So I married Justin, and happy we are. I unfortunately cannot say, however, that fears don't occasionally creep in regarding (in)fidelity. A lifetime is a long time, right? And, in honor of full disclosure, I have at times been the cheater in previous relationships, and thus I likely project some of my fears about my own ability to maintain a lifetime of trust and monogamy onto poor Justin. And when the newspapers and internet and the radio and the lunch table is talking about Tiger or John Edwards or Michael Jordan, I think... Justin's a good guy, but those were good guys too. And no one would have expected... Granted, one could talk about the issues of being a man with some kind of power, a sense of entitlement, a childhood wrought with a lack of attention or a cheating father. But still, when iconic figures like these get caught with their "pants down", we wonder what makes the men in our lives any different?

So what is a girl (or guy) to do? Here it is: I've chosen marriage, and thus my only option is to now choose trust. This is an incredibly difficult task for me personally (as you can probably tell from the last several paragraphs...), but it is thing I need to do. It is the only thing I can do. And most importantly, it is what I want to. So I put my trust in Justin that he will put me and our future family first as we go forward, and that he will protect my heart at all costs. And I will do the same for him. I will not be naive and say that there may not be challenges for each of us as our years of marriage multiply, but I trust that the family and life that we are slowly building will help keep our marriage vows (all of them) in the forefront of our minds.

As for Tiger (an ironic name, as tigers are in fact monogamous), he has a lot of work to do to repair his broken family and his sponsorships. In fact, I think that's it's time that he re-branded his image. No more Mr. Nice Golfer family man on the Disney channel. Maybe he'll start calling himself T-Wood and start doing commercials for gold chains and FUBU apparel.... Like marriage, only time will tell.

The Little Things...

2010-01-10T23:27:00.003-05:00

I don't think any strangers read this little blog, so I'm going to take this opportunity to talk about my fair wife. Ashley has many qualities that make her absolutely incredible (but I don't think anyone has any desire to read about those), and at the same time she has many… idiosyncrasies… that just make me shake my head and laugh when does them. So my intention is to let you know about a few of my favorite little tidbits about Ashley.

When you buy a new article of clothing the tag is always attached using a small plastic hang piece that is pierced through the clothes. Somehow Ashley has the unique ability to ALWAYS tear off the tag while leaving the plastic piece sticking out of the clothes. I sometimes wonder if she thinks it’s part of the actual clothing, like a fashion accessory or something. A few months back I distinctly remember she was getting ready for work, looking good as usual, then she does a little spin for me to see how she looks, and there, sticking out of her back is her favorite plastic tag holder… I laugh, shake my head and go for the scissors.

The other week I was doing the laundry (yes I do laundry - as little as possible, but I do it) and I was folding a pair of Ashley's underwear when I find her favorite accessory sticking in them. Alright, must be a new pair... no, wait. I've seen her wearing this pair for at least the last year. A year, really? It was on an inside tag, but doesn't it itch? Isn't it at least annoying? Later that night I ask her about it and she tells me it's no big deal... I just shake my head and smile while I now cut the tags off of all her new clothes.

Next, Ashley hates when I need to teach her things. I mean HATES! As a little example we have recently decided that we need to stop being ignorant Americans and learn another language... That's good right. We're really excited to learn something new and even better do it together. So we decide that what better language to learn in this day in age than Spanish (well maybe Mandarin but that seemed a little too ambitious, plus I figure it's probably only 10 years until China takes over the world, so we can learn Mandarin then).

I explained to Ash that I took 3 years of Spanish in high school, and was pretty horrible then and I am sure to be exponentially worse now. So as our very romantic 1st anniversary present to each other we buy a language learning computer program to help guide our process. We set the plan - 45 minutes a night 5 days a week. The first day, lesson numero uno, and I recall literally one Spanish word and Ashley gets mad at me because she doesn’t like being taught by me.

She then goes off on a tangent saying that I know how to do everything and I always have to teach her everything and she never gets to teach me anything. I tell her how there are billions of things to know and I probably know 3 of them, she then lists three things that I know and have taught her and gets more upset. I tell her we could lean mandarin instead and she tells me to shut up. I just smile and shake my head... she assures me this is not a good time for laughing.

Third… Ashley loves to paint her nails. I don’t mean she does it like once a week like most women. In one day I’ve seen her paint and remove said paint at least 3 times. Every time she does I assure her that she is giving me brain cancer from the fumes, she glares at me and continues with the paint and remove routine. I sometimes wonder if she is just trying to kill me off.

Honestly though, Ashley has been cursed with extremely brittle nails. She will go to pet the cat and somehow break four nails in half; I’ve never seen anything like it. However, I can’t help but think that the brittleness is due to all the excessive application and removal of paint using harsh chemicals that they scent with coconut oil so you feel like the fumes aren’t really eating your brain. When I suggest this theory to Ashley she tells me I’m ridiculous, the coconut oil helps moisturize her nails… sure. Since the “moisturizing” chemicals didn’t seem to help she decided to buy some nail strengthening stuff paint to help out. So now she will precisely paint then strengthen… and remove three times. Honestly I think she just wanted to be able to paint more. I watch her, smile, and shake my head while I put on my fumes mask.

Fourth… Since the day I met Ashley I have probably heard the sentence "my eyes hurt" no less than 5 million times… literally. I have taken her to the emergency room at least twice for her eyes, and those are just the times when it got so bad she couldn’t see.

Now one would think that if you had a lot of eye problems you would take exceptionally good care of your eyes to make sure no more problems arise. Three years ago she left her contacts in for MONTHS at a time, then one day she complained that her eyes were killing her, she couldn’t understand why. I secretly thought that maybe it had something to do with her eye actually growing over the contact…

After that emergency room visit, things got better for a little while. She would leave them in for a couple of weeks at a time. Then came the next emergency room visit. Shortly followed by an emergency morning rush to the eye doctor because her eyes hurt so bad she couldn’t drive herself to the doctor. Literally since the first ER visit I have heard complaints about her eyes every day. I do have to give her some credit though, she has been slightly better about taking care of her eyes, while still complaining about them hourly.

So, two weeks ago we were hanging out at home and she lost her contact case and she asked me to look around for it. So I find one of her cases, look inside, no contacts, but what I do find is utterly amazing. I find my third grade science fair project in her contact case. She had solution in there, along with hairs, crumbs, dust, and an elephant, truly remarkable. It all became clear to me… her eyes have hurt for the last 3 years because she never takes out her contacts and when she does she puts them into solution that The Swamp Thing could comfortable thrive in. I smile and shake my head slowly.

I think we finally have her eyes figured out, she just needs to change the solution once every couple decades and all future problems may be avoided. We go to the optomologist last week for her to get a check up, find out all the crazy things wrong with her eyes, and then she gets new glasses, which is great because they will be the proper strength, and she will be able to take her contacts out every now and again. So she picks up the new specs today after much waiting and tells me “they are ok, I don’t love them” It will never end.

As an introduction to the final topic I’d like to say I HATE washing dishes. On top of not liking to wash dishes, I’m incredibly paranoid about making sure the dishes are immaculately clean, meaning it takes forever, which makes it all even worse.

Then of course we move into an apartment without a dishwasher. PERFECT! So, Ash and I will take turns at this hellish task. It worked great… for about a day. Then I saw our “clean” dishes after Ashley’s turn. To say they were still dirty was a drastic understatement, to say they still had food stuck to them doesn’t do the situation justice. Somehow she found a way to get more food stuck onto the “clean” plates, forks, knives, and bowls than was on them as our meal.

So I ask her about our dishes, telling her they probably aren’t safe to eat off in this condition, she assures me that I’m only being anal about the whole thing and to stop worrying. I now run to the sink as soon as we are done eating to make sure I get to be the one to do the dishes… It might be a little overboard, but I’d rather spend 20 minutes washing a spoon than be sick for a month from food poisoning contracted from eating 4 day-old chicken that was stuck to my plate. Every once in a while I will still remove a dish from the cupboard only to be surprised by last week’s lasagna on my plate; smile and shake my head while pulling out the industrial strength detergent.

I know it sounds like I’ve complained a lot about my wife, it’s true, I have. But in the end it truly does keep every-day life interesting, and I don’t know that I would want it any other way. While I may now have exceptionally dry hands from all the dish-washing, she always keeps me company while I wash away, which makes it well worth it. We kind of get to deal with each other’s idiosyncrasies, shake our heads and smile a lot, but in the end I’m insanely happy and wouldn’t change a thing (except maybe for her to change the solution in her contact case from time to time).

The Three Memorable Things Rule

2010-01-10T00:01:00.000-05:00

With the Christmas trees (or menorahs, if you swing that way) dismantled and the cookies bordering on stale, I have been thinking recently about makes a year "memorable". A couple of years ago Justin mused that he was scared of getting old, not for fear of gray hair (he probably won't have much anyway, so gray would be an improvement), but because he worried that once out of school and deep in the "humdrum" of life, the years would blend together. He worried that everyday life would lead to monotony and that monotony would lead to a life forgotten. Or worse: wasted.

Justin's was a sentiment to which I could relate. If you know me, you know that I have a very hard time sitting still and doing "nothing". Apart from possible neurological issues related to my self-diagnosed ADHD and/or anxiety disorder, I think that my restlessness is rooted deeply in an existential crisis. Put more simply, I fear death. Not the physical experience of death. No, that I actually fear very little. Rather, I fear, immensely in fact, leaving the earth without having made a mark and without having evolved into the person that I desire to be.

Justin's solution to his own fear of "forgettableness" was to make a rule (oh us and our rules - how we love structure!). Actually, maybe it could be called more of a challenge. Regardless, he set out to ensure that each year he had done or experienced three memorable things. One might call this the Three Memorable Things Rule. This sounds deceptively simple. Despite our relative youth and rather unstable life, Justin frequently has difficulty coming up with these Three Things each year. This is not because our lives are not full of chaos, but more so because Justin has many rules within his rule. For example, the Three Things cannot be more related to someone else than to him (e.g. celebrating Dylan's graduation will not count, but his own will) and they have to reflect some accomplishment. As you can see, this can lead to a decent amount of pressure come December.

Since Justin began talking about this practice, I have been very supportive of his endeavor. In line with both my personality and therapy training, I think setting goals and recognizing accomplishments is extremely valuable. For myself, I spend inordinate amounts of time writing lists of goals for myself and trying to learn as much as possible in an effort to make each day "worthwhile".

Then today, Justin and I had a brief exchange that I will paraphrase for you here:

Justin: Ash, I need to write down my Three Things for last year, and I can only remember two.

Me: Well, I guess the last one wasn't that memorable, huh?

Justin: Not funny. I really can't think of a third thing. What a waste of a year.

Now, Justin clearly doesn't think of 2009 as a true waste... at least I hope not. It was our first year of marriage after all. The year we moved away from home to establish a new life, independent. The year that the Bengals disappointed us all again. But nonetheless his statement took me aback. Could a year really be a waste?

My immediate response to the year being a waste question is to say, no, of course not. But some might disagree. Some may contest that in order to live a life worth remembering, you must actively create memories. You must do and create and accomplish. And up until the past couple of months, I think I would have agreed.
In general, I spend the majority of my time doing or planning to do. I have an internal dialogue telling me that life is passing me by quickly and I must hurry to keep up with the pace. I need Things to add to my own list.

But Justin's words today made me take pause. I began to think about measuring the value of a year. This may have been in no small part also related to the fact that I hurt my back this week and was unable to move today, so I was, quite literally, forced to slow down. But anyway, I wondered whether having or not having that Third Thing to add to his list could or should make a difference. Had we not experienced so many things in 2009? Had we not survived our first year of marriage and saying goodbye to family and friends? Had we not traveled throughout the U.S. and had we not celebrated the milestones of our loved ones? Had we not seen movies and danced at weddings and eaten birthday cake and played blackjack in Vegas and sang karaoke? Had we not lived?

As I'm writing, I'm reminded of the song "Seasons of Love" from the show Rent, the lyrics of which pose the exact question I'm contemplating. How do you measure, a year in the life? The song suggests sunsets, cups of coffee, laughter, strife, and... love. All of which we had plenty of last year. Well, not much coffee for Justin, but you get the point. It's not measured in the number of marathons run or awards received. Not at all. In fact, I hope that when I'm old I remember the details instead of the major milestones: the cups of coffee (or tea or whatever), the from-behind hugs, the feel of the ice cold floor in our tiny kitchen, the cats throwing up on the carpet, and the curling up under the heating blanket to keep warm. If I can remember those things, that will be okay.

So my new stance on the Three Things Rule, at least for today, is that it will need to become the Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Things list in order to account for all of the individual moments that made 2009, and every year, memorable.

So, what are your thoughts?

2009: Forward Stumbling

2010-01-02T18:10:00.022-05:00

When I met Ashley, she and her friends had this little tradition of doing a "Year in Review" for each birthday. It was an opportunity to reflect on both the ups and the downs of the year gone by and to recognize how little we can truly predict about our lives. Since then, Ashley and I have adopted this tradition for ourselves. With our recent anniversary, we had the opportunity to reflect on our adventurous first year of marriage. We'll keep that review private, for our sake and yours. However, as many of you were a major part of our lives over this past year, we would like to review 2009 with you as we begin our forward stumble into 2010.

2009 was rung in unceremoniously sitting in the back of a Saturn as Jack drove us back from the airport, having said goodbye to the gorgeous rainforests and beaches of Costa Rica. After ten days in paradise, we were so excited to return to the paradise we fondly call Norwood, Ohio. We did have lots of new wedding presents to begin playing with. You know, fun toys like crock pots, vacuum cleaners, and flatware (I'm still waiting for Ashley's domestic gene to kick in)...

Costa Rica, Not Norwood

The honeymoon was quickly over when Ashley left me freezing in Cincinnati and resumed flying all over North America for internship interviews. Flying from Baton Rouge to Denver to L.A., she soon learned that living in a hotel is not all it's cracked up to be. One of the most memorable interviews for me was when she called me at 11:00 p.m. on a Tuesday sobbing about insane L.A. motorists, narrow lanes, and a lack of road signs. I calmed her down just in time for her to arrive at her destination, step out of her car, and experience her first earthquake. It was a sleepless night... for both of us.

As February began, our anxiety began building, waiting to find out if and where Ashley would match, and thus where we would be spending the next year. As alcohol is always a healthy means of coping with anxiety, we traveled to Columbus to bottle wine with Lucia, Mark, Molly, and Jason. It was a nice escape right before Match Day, which proved another sleepless night for all involved. The night before, Ashley's friends came over to distract each other... translate: lots of drinking, games, and dancing while I tried to sleep before a long day of work. After falling asleep despite the thumping bass, I was awoken at 2 a.m. and asked to drive everyone home so that they could each check their match status alone. Seriously???

At the Wine Store in Columbus

As expected, Ashley and her friends all matched and we learned we were moving to... Philadelphia. In celebration of the match and March Madness, we spent the next few weeks living at Bdubs and consuming many, many hot wings. We also decided to take a rather random trip to Las Vegas to capitalize on their suffering economy and take a little break from the grind of graduate school and work. In April, I turned 27 and began thinking about what my own future in Philadelphia would hold, job searching and applying to new MBA programs. Ashley also began studying for her licensure exam in order to deal with the fear of impending "free time". We were clearly a lot of fun in this month.

In May Ashley turned the ripe old age of 24 and began saying goodbye to her grad school friends as they left for internship. Dealing with this was not my favorite part of 2009. Fortunately, we had a trip planned to Lake Ocoee in Tennessee for Memorial Day Weekend. We had a blast boating, swimming, jet skiing, white water rafting, and playing lots of games. Of course the girls got all sentimental as they guys drank and played poker... typical.

Trying to Sink the Tube

The summer brought the joys of Finance for me and Ashley's excessive studying started picking up. We also hosted an apartment full of girls in preparation for Lucia's Bridal Shower. Believe it or not, living with a bunch of girls is not nearly as fun as it was in your dreams in high school... Around this time we trekked to Philly to begin searching for a place to live... what a waste that was! We picked out a nice apartment, but were delighted to find out a week before moving that the previous occupant was conducting a sit-in. This meant we had to find a new place, quite quickly, which we fortunately did. More on that to come.

As July ended, Ashley took her big exam and learned she was super competent. We also headed to a conference in Toronto. What a dreary city. At least it encouraged us to learn a few things at the conference and get some ideas about moving to New Zealand in a few years. Mom, don't freak out yet! When we got back, it was time to quit my job, pack up our life (and our cats), and head to Philly with a caravan of family. When we arrived, we got to see the aforementioned apartment for the first time and minorly (or majorly, more accurately) freaked out. With the help of our family and the deaf-mute movers, we managed to make it work. We are forever indebted to all of them.

Living Room - Kind of Deceptive

After a few days in Philly, we decided we needed to get out. So we drove the 10 hours up to Maine to camp at Acadia National Park and stopped in Mystic, CT for a few days on the way back. Despite getting lost on bikes in the park and stuck in a hurricane, it was a great trip. Upon arriving back in Philly, we quickly left again, this time to celebrate Lucia and Mark's wedding in Akron. By the time we got back, we had no desire to ever drive again. It was also time for me to start the full-time MBA program at La Salle and Ashley to start her internship at Friends Hospital.

Over the next few months, we got acclimated to Philly. We tried to immerse ourselves in Philly culture by attending a Phillies game, eating cheesesteaks and "wuter" ice, drinking Yuengling, and learning about tapping the MAC. We also visited NYC for our friend Steve's birthday and began to understand why the Chinatown bus is only 10 bucks. Meanwhile, Ashley got homesick in about a day and took a surprise trip home over Halloween. She celebrated her least-favorite holiday at her brother Zach's house in a really slutty costume...

With Bradley, who dressed as Bruno

For Thanksgiving I decided to leave my wife and head to Detroit, by way of Cincinnati. I got to see my whole family and enjoy our favorite traditions of eating Lebanese food and playing whirly ball. Ashley's family came to visit her in Philly for the holiday since she couldn't get off work. Let's just say they left ten cases of diet coke behind, so Ashley was in heaven. Soon after, we visited our friend Maria in D.C., where we got to experience the joy of the Holocaust Museum and attend a Ukrainian party - they sure know how to throw a party!

That brings us to the recent Christmas season, which included our first wedding anniversary. We got to spend a little over a week at home in Cincinnati visiting with family and friends and putting on a few pounds. We also celebrated the engagements of our friends Craig and Jen and Joe and Meredith. We sure love weddings. When we returned to Philly, we got ready for a visit from Leigh and Matt for New Year's Eve, which was spent feeling entirely too old for certain bars. It was a lot of fun however, and was a great ending to an adventurous year.

So, what's to come in 2010? Well, much like 2009, we again don't know where we'll be living come September. Until then, we have lots of adventures planned, like more interviewing, learning Spanish, taking a cruise, Ashley getting her doctorate and me my MBA, moderating the Biggest Loser Challenge, and attending the way-too-built-up UD Reunion Weekend.

2009 was great, and we can't wait to see what 2010 has in store. My real goal for this year, however, is to find out where those damn gym workers park.

Do you think marbles are actually made of marble?

2009-12-15T21:55:00.000-05:00

While it's really Justin's turn to post, I'm tired of waiting for him to peel his eyes away from his fantasy football standings on his iPhone to do something more productive. You know, like writing a thought provoking blog.

Actually, "thought provoking" is sort of the theme of this particular post. More specifically, I'd like to address Justin's passion for questioning the unneeded-to-be-questioned. In fact, I've been thinking about addressing this issue for a while, but have been trying to collect data on this before writing (I have been ruined by graduate school, I tell you!). I now have some concrete examples that I am ready and w illing to share with you, in order to prove my point (not that I have to be right or anything...).

To put the examples in context, I'll give you an overview. Basically, Justin is a person who does not simply "accept" things in his life - instead, he gives them the third degree (to which he is currently thinking as reading this, "Why do they call it the third degree, anyway?" See Google for the answer, involving Freemasonry and the like). As an example: Having recently moved to Philly, we are regularly in a state of "Where the hell are we?" Thus, we rely heavily on my GPS, a trusty little device that Magellan surely spent millions of dollars developing. However, Justin does not trust said GPS. Whatever Ms. British Lady tells us, he questions: "Don't you think it would actually be quicker to take the Boulevard instead of the Parkway?" or "Why is she taking us south before going east?" To this I respond, Ms. British Lady knows this city a hell of a lot better than us, so why don't we just go with what she says instead of fighting her every step of the way? Granted, GPS's have, once or twice, provided misleading information (okay, okay... more than that). But really, should we go with a global system of satellites analyzing and interpreting the intricacies of maps, or Justin's "gut" instinct that we shouldn't have to go north before east to get to Pat's Cheesesteaks? Evidenced based practice, people... it's what it's all about, right?

Now some might take Justin's distrust of my friend Ms. British Lady as critical thinking, but before you make this misguided assumption, let me provide you with a few more examples of his never ending questioning...

A quite simple example occurred just the other morning when Justin and I were walking to spinning class at the gym. Once again, I have to provide some context. We live about three quarters of a mile from our gym, which isn't all that far except that it requires traversing a large hill, usually prior to sunrise, and while shivering and half awake. On this particular Wednesday, I was particularly tired for 5:45 a.m., walking sleepily along when Justin wonders, "Where do the people who work here park?"

"I don't know, Justin," I mumble, kind of hoping for a few more minutes of sleep while walking.

"Well, there never seem to be any of their cars here," he insists, looking at me incredulously.

"Uh-huh." Please shut up!

"So what do you think they do? Do they all walk?"

"Not sure."

"Maybe they park over there. Do you think so?"

Oh my god! It's 5:45 in the MORNING! I don't care if they fly in on space shuttle from the freakin' moon! This is what I want to say, but instead: "Honey, why don't you just ask them?" I'm such a patient wife.

Sometimes, Justin's questions are admittedly somewhat thought-provoking, even causing me to take pause, at least for a nanosecond. But that's the point - I say, that's an interesting question to consider, and then return to my important work facebook stalking. But questions will haunt Justin until he can find an answer.

Recent examples: What if there were two dominant species instead of humans being the only one? Why are dogs not born in one particular season like certain other animals? Why do we say, "how come"? (On another day, weeks later) Why do we say, "because of"? Do cats in China run away from humans because they know that they will be eaten?

And the list goes on... and on... Sometimes I feel like the mother of a three-year-old who wants to shout, "The sky's just freaking blue, okay?!? It just IS!"

But then again, when I can take a step back, I remind myself that Justin's insatiable curiosity is one of reasons that I love him so dearly. He's infinitely interested in the world around him, which is a quality I truly admire and (don't tell him) which I aspire to have. It makes him eager, passionate, and is the basis of his desire to expand his mind in new ways. And so, I let him question away... nodding and smiling and referring him to Wikipedia.

Right Brain Experimentation

2009-11-22T20:47:00.000-05:00

To change things up a bit, today I'm sharing a few photos from our neighborhood that I took and edited yesterday. Trying to tap into the other side of my brain. More to come soon. Enjoy!

- Ashley

A Treatise on My Distate for Halloween

2009-11-19T18:10:00.000-05:00

In thinking about my next topic to blog upon (to blog on? to blog about?), I recalled one of my oh-so-favorite issues to discuss and debate... the misery that is Halloween. Now, I realize that Halloween has come and gone for this particular calendar year. However, since I saw Christmas trees for sale at Target in September, I have realized that holiday preparations are now permitted starting 364 days prior to said holiday. So in fact, this topic is extremely timely, as Halloween is only 346 days away....

So, Halloween... I really despise it. And, lucky reader, I'm going to tell you all about why...

Reason number one that I loathe October 31st: My first reason requires a bit of a history lesson on Halloween (or simply some common sense). The history lesson comes here... Halloween is often thought to have derived from the Celtic celebration called Samhain, which signifies the transition from the "lighter half" of the year to the "darker half" of the year (once again, thank you Wikipedia, purveyor of all useless knowledge). I really don't have to say very much about this. Who likes dark? And cold? And the coming of digging my car at 5:15 a.m. with a broom doubling as a shovel (yes, I will buy a shovel this year)? To me, Halloween is the key indicator that summer fun is behind us, fall is quickly turning into winter, and soon I'll have to buy my eighteenth pair of gloves in five years (I can't help that I always lose one of them!).

Reason number two: I don't like to be scared. I just don't. Another little lesson, this time on psychology, or neurobiology more accurately. Fear is an emotion thought be processed by the amygdala and evolved as a response to a perceived threat. As we all know, it's related to a fight or flight response in each of us, and as I am a pacifist, I choose the latter. I tend to want to get the hell out of dodge when there's something frightening. And so I'm regularly baffled when people pay good money to have out of work actors jump out of them in goblin costumes. Justin will do that for free. As a side note, did you know that the Terror Behind the Walls - a haunted prison in Philly - is 40 bucks a pop? 40 DOLLARS to pee my pants!?!?! No, thank you. So in conclusion to this point, fear does not equal fun in my book.

Reason number three (and my most commonly cited reason): Costumes freak me out. Seriously. All of your friends and loved ones not looking like themselves, lurking behind face paint and hair dye, or, worse yet, wearing their grade school cheerleading outfit. I just don't need to see that. In general, costumes seem to fall into two categories, at least for women. The first is scary costumes. Please see above for explanation as to why I don't like these costumes. The other is the "sexy" costume. You know the ones. The sexy cop, or sexy nurse, or sexy baseball player. I seriously believe costume companies could make a sexy garbage collector and it would be eaten up. Why must "sexy" be in the title of 98% of the costume options for women (or "cute" for the other 2%). What if I want to be the brave cop, or the intelligent nurse, or the athletic baseball player? Nope, not at this store. Go down the street to the invisible Costumes for the Feminists store. You'll find quite a wide selection.

So there are the major reasons that I dislike this holiday that others appear to find so magical. Don't get me wrong, I will never turn down a Reece's pumpkin. Those things are like crack. But I'll pass on the dark coming of long winter months, the $40 fear factory, and the pressure to dress like a slut in the name of a holiday. Now, some of you (or all of you) might be saying, This chick really needs to lighten up! And you'd be in good company, and fairly correct. But I'll lighten up when Thanksgiving rolls around. Food and family and Christmas sales.... now that's a holiday I can get into.

Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Swine

2009-11-15T19:28:00.002-05:00

Ashley and I have had many run-ins with emergency medical facilities, and by "Ashley and I" what I really mean is that I have driven Ashley for emergency medical treatment many times over the course of our relationship...

Typically these trips revolve around her eyes - I promise to write a blog about this in the future - but this time it was "an unproductive cough, a 100 degree temperature, a persistent headache, and a bit of nausea (which may or may not have been due to a hangover from the 1 beer she had the previous night, we are getting old)."

Because we literally just finished paying off the medical bill from our last little trip to the emergency room in January (by trip read I was driving Ashley), we decided to opt for the always dependable Urgent Care facility.

While she was not feeling well, them main purpose of the trip was to rule out the ominous swine so Ashley could go to work the next day... Ashley has this horrible habit of always needing urgent medical attention on Sundays during football season, I honestly think it’s a ploy to make me watch less football, and once again, here we were on a Sunday.

She gets checked out and diagnosed with the early stages of bronchitis or pneumonia. She is given some prescriptions and we are on our way. Ashley hadn’t had much of an appetite, so we decided to go to Dunkin Donuts while we wait for the prescriptions to get filled and get some donuts. I haven’t had a donut in about 6 years, so I’m pretty excited. Ashley brings over the box of donuts grinning like she just robbed the place, sits down, and apparently opened the box a little too quickly causing her to sneeze all over the donuts. All I could think was about the bronch she just sneezed all over my meal and I started to cry.

Crazy enough, I actually made it back home just in time for kick-off!!! This day was going to turn out all right, despite the fact that I didn’t get any donuts. The Bengal's won, and I'm ready for a good end to the weekend...

That is until I go upstairs to find Ash laying in a ball in bed with the thermometer hanging out of her mouth like a chain smoker getting in that last cigarette before bed. Her temperature is up to 102.7, so for the second time in the day, she needs urgent medical care… this time we aren’t messing around and go for the real hospital ER.

I’m nervous about her at this point, so I drop her off, drive 18 miles away to park the car, run back to the ER sweating, trying to catch my breath, and I’m told I need to put on a medical mask… They might as well have given me a plastic bag to put over my head to slowly suffocate… I find ash sitting in the waiting room, seemingly near death. After a fairly short wait in hospital ER terms, we were taken to see the doc.

So we are pretty scared that she has this terrible horrible no good very bad swine flu that you hear always associated with death and the devil. So the doc looks at her asks some questions and just says, “I’m pretty sure it’s the swine flu. And you aren’t pregnant or under 4 so I can’t really do anything for you.” WHAT? REALLY? I thought they were supposed to call in the helicopter, strap her to the gurney and rush her of to Alcatraz for quarantine. Can’t do anything? My mom has been calling me for months about the terrors of this flu. She told me to get a flu shot and when they ran out she told me to go to North Philly and ask on street corners for the hook up. Can’t do anything?!?!

In the end they gave her Tylenol, (yeah that stuff I take when I get a mild headache) and told her she was dehydrated. So they gave her an IV bag, to which Ashley tells me, “I don’t think they realize how little I am, that bag is as big as me!” I patted her on the head.

In the end I took her home with the windows open and my head hanging out so as to avoid the swine as much as possible. I put her in bed, and decided I should probably sleep out on the deck just to be safe. She was actually better in about 2-3 days, but I still hold my breath every time I’m around her just in case.

So in the end it was just like a normal flu, I thought she would at least grow a curly tail or something… I’ll just chalk the swine flu up to media propaganda while I keep holding my breath.

- Justin

A Trip to the Mall

2009-11-12T19:48:00.001-05:00

Attention family... prepare to be awe-struck by the fabulousity of your super budget-friendly Christmas gifts. The budget-friendly part is probably a bit more exciting to Justin and myself than to you, but what are you going to do...

We thought long and hard about not buying Christmas gifts this year, at the urging of both of our moms, but as many times as someone tells you, "Oh, don't get me anything this year. Just having you here is a gift enough," all I hear is "Blah, blah, blah, you got me socks? Seriously?"

And so we ventured out to the mall today, well before the holiday madness should ensue, to find the perfect gifts for our loving family members. I wonder if you know how hard it is to find gifts for under 3.99 a piece?? Kidding! ..... sort of.

Malls are overwhelming places to begin with, but throw in the largest mall in the United States of America (in terms of leasable retail space, says Wikipedia) and lingering swine flu, and you've got one hell of a day. At this point I'm feeling like someone tied a rope around my neck and drug me through the New York City Marathon. Or Boston even. Not Columbus though - much too flat to describe my tiredness.

Anyway, we made it to the mall at 12:20 and by 12:50 we were leaving to get lunch (thanks to gift card found in the bottom of my purse - don't you LOVE that??). We're not mall people, I suppose. After eating a healthy meal with a total caloric content of about 10,000, we were ready to continue searching for the perfect gifts (and to throw up all over Bloomingdale's).

Here's something you should know about Justin (assuming you don't know him as intimately as most of you who would bother reading this probably already do)... he's indecisive. And the worst shopper who ever lived. However, he's not the kind of male shopper that makes most wives want to pull their hair out (e.g. "I don't care! Whatever, just buy it. C'mon, the game's on!) Instead, he's of the variety that cares entirely too much.

He will identify a shirt he likes and look over said shirt for, oh, 25-35 minutes? Then, once he's decided said shirt is acceptable, having stretched it, held it up in various lights, tried it on, put it on the floor and jumped up and down on it, and googled the manufacturer on his iPhone, he'll move on to color selection. And here's where things get interesting. He'll spend another 15-20 minutes debating the merits of every color option. ("What would you think if I walked in to an office wearing orange? What about into a bar? A Dunken Donuts?") And then, THEN!, once he has decided on the shirt and I'm saying a silent "Thank you, God, thank you for letting us move on," he spots ANOTHER shirt across the aisle. "Oh, Ash, do you like this one better?" I say no, of course, and try to gently guide him toward the cashier. But Justin is not that easily disuaded... "Wait ONE minute!" he'll say, "I need to check this out....." And thus the process begins again. You get the point.

So shopping with Justin for Christmas gifts is kind of like making a visit to the emergency room (with which we unfortunately have all too recent experience): you'd better bring a good book and be prepared to sit tight. There's no rushing it. And if you try, the mean lady behind the desk will give you a death glare that says, "Sit your butt right back down, missy. No, I did not call you. You'll know when I did."

All in all, we spent about seven hours shopping today and spent probably the equivalent of most people's weekly gas budget. But we're done. DONE! And no one will go without a gift... assuming they like socks.

Ladies and Gentlemen...

2009-11-10T20:57:00.006-05:00

Welcome one and all to our new blog... I wonder if anyone is actually going to read this? In case anyone does, I hope you enjoy it, I think we'll certainly enjoy writing it!

I don't think I really know what we are going to write about on here yet... maybe something some serious things like business, psychology, life, and H1N1... maybe some things that aren't serious also - travel, jokes, stories, etc. I think the basic idea is that we will write when we feel like writing, and we'll write about whatever we feel like writing about... nothing too specific. So I hope we get a good mix of materials so it doesn't become a psychology blog, I can only stand so much of people examining my brain each day. We will try to write regularly but no guarantees, we are pretty busy, but then again we don't have many friends in Philly so maybe we'll have more time than I might think. We have a lot of things going on in life and a lot of things we've been thinking about doing, so hopefully you'll find it interesting and exciting. Let us know what you think... if you have any topics you want to hear our thoughts on, etc. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this... assuming there is a "you" our there that is reading this...

- Justin