Around the House

When you rent an apartment (even when it feels like your rent is higher than 90% of the country's mortgage payments), there's a tendency to not really make it your own.  "We won't live here THAT long" or "It's not ours anyways" somehow become excuses for blank walls, boring spaces and general malaise toward decorating.

Let me be clear.  When it comes to our rented apartment, I = malaise.

But in an effort to make our rented apartment feel a little bit more like a home (we did move in back in July, after all) M finally framed and hung some of our favorite pictures of the Chicago's World Fair.

What you can't see in this picture are the high-hanging light bulbs that need to be replaced

And yesterday, after getting rid of four large trash bags of clothing from our closet, I 1) organized my clothing by color, 2) did two loads of laundry, and 3) marveled at how productive I was being.

And now, NOW, I can hear M upstairs cleaning the bathroom.  I would go up there, but I surely don't want to distract him.  I mean, I am probably more effective sitting here blogging than helping.  Because who likes help when they clean?  Certainly not me.  I prefer to do everything by myself, so that I can complain later that I had to do everything by myself.

Because the reality is that, whether you rent, own, squat or whatever, where you live is your home and should- at least I think- reflect in some ways the things you love.  We've chosen to decorate our home with paintings and pictures that we've gathered on our travels: a large painting of a cityscape from Croatia, another of pomegranates from Bosnia, two small paintings from Slovenia (though I'm not really sure the meaning behind the one where it looks like a housewife is being washed after talking to a devil...) and other art, gathered from around the world.  We have pictures of our families, books we love and mirrors picked up at the local flea market.  

So maybe we don't own it, and maybe we won't live here forever.  But we're working to make this little apartment in DC our home, by the things we put on the walls, the people we invite in and the love that we share with each other during this unique time in our lives.

And finally, it's official

Well, it's official.  M and I are moving back to Washington, DC!

Today, M accepted a position doing his "dream job," and I accepted a position last Friday working for an organization I'm really excited about as well.  It has been amazing to see these things come together in just a matter of weeks.

And the reality is that- while we've worked hard and done our "due diligence"- we also know that we have been blessed beyond measure in getting both of these positions.  As I've said before, the health and wealth gospel that so dominates even mainstream American churches tends to make us think that if we love God then He's going to bless us with a job, a happy family and a white picket fence. 

How wrong we are to believe that this is the case.  God doesn't promise us material blessing.  He promises us more of Himself.

It is with that perspective that we are, therefore, overwhelmed (in a very good way) by what we have before us.  And we are so thankful that we have this opportunity.  Next weekend, July 2nd, we'll trek halfway across America, back to our home of DC.  Sure, we don't know yet exactly where we'll be living, but hey, that's minor, right?  We'll finally be able to take a couple of days off and enjoy the Eastern Shore, and will end our "holiday week" with M's family in Alabama.  And then, once again, the hard work of laboring with Him to see His kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven, will start again.

Now, what to do about the name of this blog...

A HPH take on the Royal Wedding

Did you hear?  Prince William married his long-time girlfriend, Catherine Elizabeth Middleton!!!  I know, I was completely shocked when I heard it, too; I mean there had been NOTHING on the news for weeks, no months, about the blessed event.  And in true British royal style, a small, intimate affair was completely pulled off without even a hint to the mass media.  Yet again, the royal family has succeeded in keeping their laundry (dirty or otherwise) out of the public eye.

Right.

So what did we here at Hyde Park Heroes think of the wedding?  I'm so glad you asked!  Because I am a true connoisseur (yes, that's spelled right) of all things royal as of, well, yesterday, I thought I would fill you in on my thoughts on the matter.

1.  It's a ghost!

When Kate first stepped out of her hotel into her sweet ride, I thought "Oh, she's borrowing Grace Kelly's dress!  What a symbolic gesture to the hundreds of thousands of Americans who care more about this wedding than the Brits do!  And what a great way to save cash in troubled times!"  Upon closer examination, of course, I realized that while the dress did look strikingly similar to the former Queen of Monaco's 1950s look, Kate's dress was beautiful in and of itself.  I really do mean that.  And of course showed a lot more skin.  Which is always appropriate for a wedding, right?  I mean have you ever seen "Say Yes to the Dress"?  Especially that see-through "looks like lingerie dress" that all the Jersey girls love?  Classy.  We've come a long way in 50 years...

2.  Can't see the forest for the trees

While I like to think that the trees that were brought into Westminster Abbey made the whole affair look a little more, well, "British country shabby chic" I would have been SO PISSED if I was one of the guests who had flown in from Lesotho or Israel or the Jersey Shore or wherever and was stuck looking at a stupid British tree.  Wow, it's a oakus maximus.  How thoroughly boring.

3.  Not his best side

I get that dear William isn't supposed to watch his bride walk up the aisle (which, good Lord, took long enough!  Get there already!)  Unfortunately, it also gave us a 3 1/2 minute view of his bald spot.  Poor guy; each day he looks more like his fuddy duddy father (are you allowed to say that about the future King?  Of course!  That's why we fought the revolution!)  Someone get this man some Rogaine! 

4.   See no evil, hear no evil...

I literally laughed out loud when I saw this picture.

Not because kiss one and two were both slightly awkward, but because of the priceless face (and hand placement) of the little girl on the left.  Poor thing, it was so loud!  And besides, she's only like what, four?  Enough with all the pomp and circumstance already.  Someone get that girl a lollipop.

5.  I think someone wore this to prom

I'm sure Pippa is a nice, sweet, ladylike young woman, even if her name is horrible.  But I'm also pretty sure that I saw this very same dress at our high school prom in 2000.  Is she going retro?

______________________________

Ok, ok, I've been a little harsh (and I haven't even mentioned the ridiculous fascinators worn by some members of the royal family).  But when we spend so much time thinking and talking about one royal wedding, we're inviting in a few snarky comments.  That said, it truly was a beautiful day and, hopefully, a sign of good to come for the royal family.  More importantly, I think it would do us good to remember the words of the Anglican priest who gave the homily:

Every wedding is a royal wedding with the bride and groom as king and queen of creation, making a new life together so that life can flow through them into the future. 

Every wedding is about more than who wore what, what the flowers looked like or the hats that someone wore.  Every wedding reminds us of our place in creation.  Every wedding reminds us of the gift of oneness.  And ultimately, every wedding reminds us that we are the bride of Christ.

Now to pick out my tiara...

Two years ago tomorrow, M and I said our vows to each other.

It was a morning wedding (possibly best idea ever).  We gathered early at our beautiful church on Capitol Hill, had the full Anglican communion service and then headed out to the brunch reception on the banks of the Potomac River.  It rained on and off, but that made it all the more beautiful.

We left the next day for a two week stay on the Mediterranean coast of Croatia, with a stop in Paris and a little time spent inland.  I still dream about returning to these places one day again soon.

The trip was a whirlwind.  The next twelve months of our lives were a whirlwind.  I've lost count now, but counting from the day of our wedding, we went to something like ten weddings in the course of the next year.  And then there was the applying to grad school and then the planning for a move halfway across the country and then actually making the move, and then settling in, adjusting to the new nature of long-distance friendships, finding a job, finding a new community.

"Two years" sounds so little when we say it to each other- and yet in the best of ways, it seems like so much longer than that.  It's hard for me to now remember my life without M in it (we started dating in 2006, so apparently my memory only holds good for about 4 years).  I know my life before having M in it was good, but I also know that it fundamentally changed- and fundamentally changed me- when he entered.

I love my husband more than I can even try to express.  I cannot imagine my life without him; even thinking about a day without him makes me get emotional.  He is the strongest man I know, and yet also one of the most humble (maybe that's where the strength comes from).  He's ridiculously smart but doesn't have to prove himself to anyone, even when I want him to (which, let's be honest, happens a lot).  He is a calming force.  He is hilariously funny.  He will be such a wonderful father one day.  He is a great, great cook.  He loves Florida football.  He makes me work out and play tennis, even when I don't really want to.  He is a man who lives every day trying to figure out what his faith means in the world he lives in; he is a man after God's heart.

So here's to these two years.  May the joy of the first two continue- and grow- for the many years to come.

Finally, a "Garden"

There are some real benefits to living in an apartment.

Granted, I can't actually think of them right now, but I'm sure there are some.  Low maintenance costs, maybe?

Unfortunately, outdoor living space is not one of them.  And as much as I've talked about how I would love a garden, our small third floor walk up doesn't really work for a green thumb.

Until now.

These herbs, courtesy of my cousin Allie's wedding (sidenote: herbs make a beautiful centerpiece for reception tables!!) are sitting pretty on the ledge outside our living room window.  Just last night, I cut off two cups worth of basil to make a beautiful pesto and I'm trying to figure out what fun things to do with chocolate mint (it really smells like chocolate!)

It might not be the fresh vegetables I would love to one day grow, but it's a start.  And while we have to thoroughly wash everything since bus and car exhaust from Hyde Park Boulevard does make its way up here, it's definitely a great place for these little herbs to get some sun and some rain.  And that's a start.

Yes, I said pineapple

One of the great things about summer is that M doesn't have to study every evening.  Not only does this mean that we can go work out together (it's so much easier when someone else is expecting you to do it) but it also means that M cooks dinner quite a bit. 

Anyone who knows anything about M knows that he's a great cook.  I would even venture to say that he might be better than me (and- yes, I'm bragging- I'm pretty darn good).  He's much more creative and willing to try things until he gets them right, making up his own proportions and such.  And 9.5 times out of 10, he gets it spot on the first time.  How did I get so lucky??!  Did I also mention that he's brilliant, humble, wise, calm, quick-witted, athletic, a true leader and super attractive, inside and out?  Because he is.  Just saying.

So anyway, since he's not studying a million hours a day (I am not exaggerating), he's been cooking quite a bit.  So when he offered to make dinner the night I had planned to make lasagna, I couldn't refuse.

And, dear Jesus, it might have been the best lasagna I've ever had.  It had the perfect proportion of sauce, cheese, spinach and noodle and he added a tiny bit of pepperoni to give us a little bit of protein.  But the best part?  The best part was...the pineapple.  Sprinkled on the top, with a coating of mozzarella on top of that, I could have probably licked the pan clean it was so good.

I don't know why it never dawned on me to add pineapple to lasagna.  I love it on pizza, which is basically the exact same ingredients, but I never thought about it outside of the confines of deep dish or thin crust.  But seriously.  Do yourself a favor and try it.  If you like pineapple on pizza, you'll like it on lasagna.  I guarantee it. 

Just Call Me Nadal

M and I have been playing tennis together for over three years now.  And by playing tennis, I mean that he hits the ball very softly towards me and I still sometimes miss it.  I admit it.  Tennis isn't my best game.  But I love playing it, love being outside and am glad it makes him happy to play, too.

And I'm getting better!  He's started doing his little spin ball move on me and he legitimately has to run after quite a few of my shots (I'm learning ball placement.  Finally.)  Granted, I'm the one doing the most running, but hey, I need the exercise.

With a forecast of partly sunny and 85, M and I headed out to the University tennis courts again today, having been shut down yesterday when they were all full.  Despite no room yesterday, we were able to play in our own little cage today so I didn't have to worry about hitting other people with our balls (I have no idea what this layout is called, but there are two courts in each "cage," ie, there was no one on the other court).  

And then, about five games in, the clouds parted, a bright ray of sun appeared on me and...I WON A GAME AGAINST M FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I don't remember what the score of the game was, but what matters is that I BEAT HIS ARSE.  WAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!  Rafael Nadal, watch out.  This Hyde Park Hero is comin' to get ya.

(Now is probably the point where I should mention that M then went on to beat me soundly for the rest of the day.)

Michael W. Smith might just be right

M and I just returned from a (slightly extended, due to complete failure by Delta) trip back to DC for our friend Brittany's wedding.  It was a wonderful time to catch up with friends, spend some time relaxing and not, well, really do anything (minus the whole wedding coordinating part.  Minor detail.)

We are cute!  And bright!

And when we finally touched down last night, I thought to myself that- as much as I hate to admit it- Michael W. Smith might just be right.  Friends are friends forever, if the Lord's the Lord of them... (everybody now!)  The ladies and gentlemen we spent our weekend with are people that we haven't seen- in some cases- in nearly a year and, in other cases, in a few months.  And yet-- these are still mostly the people (outside of our families) who know us the best, who love us the most and who we hope to continue to foster friendships with for years and years to come.  

And then something else hit me: this group, this community, is truly a gift.  It's not just about having fun (though I think riding around with his friend in the cop car might have been one of the highlights of M's time in DC)...it's about rejoicing together, weeping together and ultimately sharing life together.

Of all the things I miss about DC, I can honestly say that this community I'm describing is what I miss the most.  Don't get me wrong, we have a fledgling little community here in Chicago- but man, oh man, I don't know if I ever realized how great I had it.  And yet, more than ever before, I also realize how important it is; to have people there when you're hurting, there when you're rejoicing, to spur you on towards love and good deeds and sometimes say those hard words to you.  At the heart of it, I believe this is what we were created for ("No man is an island" ring a bell?)  I believe that deep- and often suppressed- inside all of us is a desire to be a part of something bigger than ourselves, to be loved and encouraged, to mean something to others and to have others who mean something to you.   

I am so, so thankful for these friends and the others (college roommates, amazing Florida friends, pastors who love us) who are important actors in our lives and who- we hope- will continue to provide this important thing called community moving forward.  

This doesn't mean I'm now a Michael W. Smith fan.

Our Newest Challenge

We can't claim the name Hyde Park HEROES if we don't awesomely take on challenges, right? RIGHT! So our newest self-inflicted challenge? Living on a budget.

I know, I've written about budgets before. Multiple times, actually. But now we're taking it to a whole new level. Not just "track what you spend" but "take out only a certain amount of cash every 2 weeks and only use that." And yes, there's this stuff called "cash" and "coins" that are not made out of plastic, are considered legal tender and have pictures of dead white guys on them. It's the wave of the future, I tell ya! Who comes up with this stuff?!

So the plan now is to see how well we can do with this set amount of cash. It means actually thinking before plopping down a couple hundred for new clothes (actually, I can't remember the last time I did that) or having multiple dinners out. And we're not doing this because we're dangerously in debt or because we think credit cards are completely evil- though they're most definitely NOT your friends. We're doing it because, as I've said before, we believe that how we spend our money matters. Consciously choosing to take only a certain amount out and using only that means thinking more seriously about where it's going. It means building in, even if just for another second or two, a pause and a reflection. "Is this what I want to spend my money on? How does it reflect what I support and believe?"

It's most certainly not going to be easy. It's not a lot of money. And I do quite enjoy spending money on non-necessities (this is not to say we are cutting all non-necessities, but we will be spending less on them). It's a challenge that we believe will make us live more responsibly and will make us better stewards of what's entrusted to us. Let's see what happens.

The B Word. Take Two.

Again, not THAT B word. Or the bad one, either.

This one: budget. Everyone's favorite topic!!

Let me just say, if you're on a budget, you really, really shouldn't be getting this magazine. As we are. (Don't worry, we got it for free. And yes, it's really free, even though when people say "it's free" it's normally not. Trust me.)

If you love travel (check) and culture (check) but have very little money at the moment (check, check), the LAST thing you need to be looking at is a magazine about travel. I don't care if it has the title "Budget" in it. Because I'll promise you something. You will want to take every, single trip they mention in the magazine. Of COURSE I want to hike some unknown mountain in the Amazon (are there mountains in the Amazon?) And the Taj Mahal on your cover?? ARE YOU PLAYING WITH MY HEARTSTRINGS, BUDGET TRAVEL? "DREAM TRIPS"?????? AAAAHHHHHH!

Just a few days ago, I was thinking how thankful I am that M and I have both been able to travel pretty extensively (me more so, but with the name change, all my passport stamps are gone). And then what shows up in our mailbox? This little gem. Awesome. Way to feed the addiction.

I fundamentally believe that I am who I am today because of my experiences traveling and living abroad. From an early age, I remember that every summer we would take a family vacation somewhere. Boston. New York City. Alaska. California. Italy (that was a spring trip but, whatever). And always Florida. My thoughts, convictions and beliefs are in many ways shaped by those I have traveled and worked with around the globe. M and I want our children (and I promise I will let you know in person or on the phone when that blessed day comes rather than hearing it first on the family blog) to experience different cultures, around America and beyond. I especially believe its important for those who claim the Christian faith to see what that faith looks like outside of the often-biased walls of the American church. Obviously travel can become an unhealthy obsession, and often feeds (especially my generation's) angst against settling down, picking up responsibility and, well, growing up. But it also provides lessons that are best learned over a shared cup of Indian chai or an unidentifiable Rwandan carbohydrate brick. These are things I want our children to experience. These are things that I want to continue to experience. Just as I never want to lose sight of the reality of the lives of those who have a different experience than I do in this country, I also never want to lose sight of the reality of the lives of those who have a different experience than I do around the world.

So about those around-the-world tickets...

Friday Round-Up

Praise the Lord, it's Friday! Here's what happened this week.

1. I somehow pushed the cork of our wine bottle INTO the bottle, instead of pulling it out. What can I say? I can do amazing things. I also sprayed red wine all over my white shirt in the process. Awesome!!

2. I drank 20 full glasses of water at work over the course of the week.

3. It snowed. Again.

4. It was butt cold. Again.

5. I finally got a new pair of jeans that look halfway decent.

6. I learned who invented the stoplight. (Thank you, Breakthrough youth Black History Month celebration!)

7. I made an awesome PowerPoint.

8. I successfully kept myself from mindlessly watching TV. We did watch Lost, but that's not mindless. AND, Lost (and new episodes of The Office) are part of our Lenten agreement with God.

9. I purchased our tickets to DC for Easter.

10. I arrived EARLY to work 3 days.

11. I almost ran out of gas twice.

12. I brought my lunch to work 4 out of 5 days. And the other day doesn't count because we were celebrating all the February birthdays.

13. I added 30 people on my LinkedIn profile in an office competition. And I would just like to say that what should matter is how many you have, not how many you can acquire in two weeks. I'm just saying.

14. I did the "2:30 Candy Dance" around the office. Don't ask. It's sorta scary. And there might be children watching.

15. Umm...probably lots of other stuff but those are the standouts.

Ok, so when I list it out like that, it doesn't really amount to much, does it? But hey, it's the small victories, right? RIGHT?!

Have a great weekend!

Table for Two

M and I aren't really into celebrating Valentine's Day (mostly because my birthday is two days later...wink, wink, nudge, nudge), but this year we decided to replicate the amazing breakfasts we had on our honeymoon in Croatia. What does this entail? I'm glad you asked! Prosciutto. A fresh baguette. Two types of cheeses. Fruit. Rich hot chocolate. Strong coffee. (Let's be honest, the only thing missing is wine...and since it was breakfast....well I'm not THAT much of a lush). And really, does anything say "I love you" quite like bread, cheese and prosciutto? I think not!

*WARNING* IT'S ABOUT TO GET A LITTLE SAPPY*

Looking back over the three years and a few months that M and I have been together (about one and a half of marriage), I'm pretty sure that I couldn't have created anyone more perfect for me. It is literally amazing to get just a small glimpse through M's love for me of Christ's love for His church...even when she is emotional, irrational or selfish. (Of course I am NEVER any of these. EVER). How good God has been to us...for our love for one another, yes, but more importantly for His love for us!

We will now return you to your regularly-scheduled witty and sarcastic postings.

Did I mention I know* Meryl Streep?

Last year for my birthday, M and I traveled with our good friends Katie and Dave to New York City. (Sidenote: have I told you how much I miss being able to get on a bus and go to NYC? Seriously. If I tried that from here it would 1. cost a bajillion dollars and 2. take a bajillion hours to get there.)

If I could recreate that weekend every time I go to NYC I would. Why? Well I'll tell you why. First off, it was New York fashion week and WE were there. Not guests inside, mind you. But there, all the same. The list of famous people we saw is too long to list, though I will mention Heidi Klum (who is beautiful, but looked a little orange) and Whitney Port and that horrid Olivia girl. I felt like a 13 year old all over again, taking pictures of famous people! Not that I really did that when I was 13, but, whatever.

And then...my uncle also happened to be in the city and told us about this phenomenal jazz venue in Harlem. And by venue, I mean woman's living room. Every Sunday, Ms. Eliot opens her Harlem apartment up to anyone and everyone to come and experience some of the world's best jazz. She serves hot wings and kool-aid, and charges a great "zero" for entrance. If you love jazz, you must go to Ms. Eliot's living room before you die. Nearly all great jazz musicians have played there at one time or another.

And in case those two experiences weren't enough, we had reservations that evening at Babbo down in the West Village.

Sound familiar? It's Mario Batali's restaurant. I love him! Even his orange Crocs, which I normally hate. But seriously, that man can pull them off. (Note, I saw him a few weeks later and, sure enough, he had them on. In early March. In New York.)

When we walked in, I checked in with the hostess for our 9:30 reservations, and then just sort of stared off into space while we waited. You know how it can sometimes appear that you're staring at someone, but you're actually not seeing them? That's how I was...just sort of looking, but not seeing. Until. My eyes started to focus on the object I had been looking at. (Focus. Focus.) Hey...that looks like... (focus)....hey, whoever it is is looking back at me and smiling (focus)...HOLY CRAP THAT'S MERYL STREEP LOOKING AT ME AND SMILING!! Of course, as any woman would do, I immediately whisper as quietly as possible, "KATIE! THAT'S MERYL STREEP." (I'm really classy like that.)

My obvious next thought is, So if Meryl Streep is here, who else is? Why look, there's Maggie Gyllenhaal with a big group of friends. And Rachel Zoe, back in the corner with her husband. And, what's that Dave and M? Meryl Streep is with JIM FROM THE OFFICE? Holy crap. We're like in the pantheon of actors and actresses I like. (And stylists.)

So that's how I know Meryl Streep. *Granted, she doesn't know my name, but we made a connection, you know? I could just feel it.

Oh, and the food was the most amazing food I have ever eaten and it was one of my best birthdays ever.

In fact, it was all so great that I returned to NYC a few weeks later and went to Babbo again with my friends New York Meg and New York Nancy (and DC Mandy), for Meg's birthday.

And ran into Luke Wilson.

But that's another story.

Date Night

For a while now (it all blurs together these days, but it started back when we were dating) M and I have set aside Friday night as date night. Sometimes it's with friends, sometimes it's low key and sometimes it's a quick jaunt to Europe. I'm kidding.

Since this Friday night's "date" was watching the Gators slaughter Cincinnati, we went out on Wednesday instead. And THIS was our date.

Yeah, it is what you think it is. But before you call PETA or stop reading or throw up or do whatever it is you do when you see a dead duck, give me a second.

Calm now? Great.

We ventured up to the Northside of the city to try out a place called Sun Wah barbeque that we had read about. It's a traditional Chinese-style place, well known for its meats and cheap prices. And let me just say... while I do NOT especially like duck, this place was AMAZING. AMAZING. The meat is incredible and you don't feel like you're filling yourself with white rice all night (since I'm no longer eating white rice, I'm happy for that fact.) They serve you tea when you sit down (don't you wish every restaurant was so nice?) and the prices? Well let's just say that we ate like four different animals and didn't even pay $30. Sun Wah is a bright spot (ha ha, sun...get it?!) on a strip of less-impressive Thai and Chinese restaurants. Go.

But since we didn't BYOB to Sun Wah, we wanted to end the night with a nightcap. After the first place we tried turned out to be pretentious and crowded, we finally made it down to our local watering hole, Woodlawn Tap.

It's not very impressive from the outside (especially since you can't even really tell it's there...Starbucks is a little overwhelming) but man, it is everything GOOD that a bar can be. Originally opened in 1948, the bar claims that it serves people from Nobel Laureates to the local pipe layer. In fact, when we walked in, we were impressed by the fact that, while practically on the campus of the University of Chicago, the mix of people there was amazing: white and black, blue collar, white collar, old, young. It just feels like a good bar should feel. (Not to knock you DC- or downtown Chicago- but bars full of Hill staffers and lobbying assistants can't hold a candle to Woodlawn Tap). They still take cash only, they use the original cash register (you can kind of see one on the left side of the picture) and they serve hamburgers, fries and hot dogs for practically quarters. We didn't try them, but they looked good.

And the best part?

They can mix girly drinks, too! I know it's a bit sacrilegious (yes, that's spelled right, because I checked) to go to a place like this and order a Cosmo, but I just can't bring myself to drink beer. It tastes like pee. And I like to enjoy my drink, thank you.

Bottoms up, boys!! and...uh....Nobel Peace prize winners....

2,520 hours later...

In case you're too lazy to do the math, that's the number of hours that we've now lived in Chicago. And despite some very, very long days in the beginning (anyone remember that I worked for a bakery?) the days have flown by. M is done with his first semester and- after a crazy week this week- I'll be able to rest and relax a little next week and into the New Year!

To celebrate this 2,520 mark, I've put together some of the funny (and horrible) things that have happened to us since our arrival.

• It took three men an hour and a half to figure out how to get our couch up our very narrow staircase.
• I worked at a bakery for a week and was then cussed out in French when I quit for a job that paid a lot more.
• I worked at the University of Chicago law school for two weeks, where people thought I was related to the "Laird" part of the "Laird Bell Quadrangle" at the law school. I sort of let them believe it. But we might be!
• I cried every night for the first two weeks that we lived here.
• I somehow landed the most amazing, rewarding and fulfilling job I could have ever imagined.
• I bought a champagne stopper that has changed my life.
• We traveled to Georgia twice to attend weddings.
• M saw Oprah.
• M went on a fun Chicago scavenger hunt while I worked.
• We went Mac.
• The Gators lost to Alabama. Gross.
• We realized that most people outside the Beltway don't think every day about policy or politics.
• I learned how to use Skype.
• I was greeted nearly every day by a butt-dancing, whistling crossing guard.
• The car battery died.
• We went to Iowa. Almost as exciting as the car battery.
• 40 degrees now feels like spring.
• The car slid on ice when I was driving and I got really scared.
• We successfully hosted Thanksgiving.
• We're still here.

Nothing too earth-shattering, but quite a few of these are accomplishments that I think we can be proud of, or at least are things that we can now look back on and laugh or say, "Remember when..?" These three and a half months have literally flown by. And while I probably miss friends back in DC now more than ever, we're being provided for and learning to make our way in the Second City. That's all we can ask for. Oh, and a little warmer weather.

Pretty Much I'm Martha Stewart

Minus that whole insider trading and jail piece.

My in-laws came to town this week for Thanksgiving...and can I just say: we got the job done! The whole event was spectacular, if I do say so myself. The food was great, the turkey was perfect, the homemade rolls were just right (A, my sister-in-law, made them) and the pies were to die for. This was the menu: turkey. obviously. broccoli cheese casserole. mashed potatoes. cornbread stuffing. rolls. sweet potato casserole. home-cooked green beans (despite M's pleas to have canned ones. Ugh.) pumpkin pie. Kentucky bourbon pie. cranberry sauce. Massive amounts of moaning and patting of stomachs. red wine. white wine. water. more red wine.

Since you could't all be here (really, we meant to invite you...really...) I've included some of the best shots below. Look at how well that table is set with our so-fantastic Kate Spade china! And crystal! And I even had little leaves to sprinkle on the golden tablecloth! Watch out Martha...Liz Laird ain't playin.

I love Wisconsin.

I know. It wasn't exactly what you had expected to read. But Reader, I loved it. Maybe it was the fried cheese curds. Keep reading.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we escaped America's Second City last weekend for our first anniversary. M surprised me, but I had a hunch we would be going north. I had no idea that I would find Wisconsin to be so beautiful.

First of all, it's not flat. Seriously. There are hills everywhere. And while there's tons of corn and cows (and cheese, I guess), it's really beautiful. Lots of streams, rivers and lakes, probably because it's so close to Minnesota which has like a million or something. And it's full of little towns like this:

Mineral Point, Wisconsin. M booked us in this beautiful, historic inn (it used to be a brewery, but now the top two floors are fantastic rooms. They still brew their own beer out back.)

We spent the weekend just lazing around, exploring Mineral Point and enjoying the perfect weather.

And then we went to Iowa. Yep, Iowa. I mean when you're 30 minutes away, you've got to make the short drive, right? Notice, however, that I didn't entitle this post I love Wisconsin AND Iowa. Because, let's face it, I didn't love Iowa. Dubuque, Iowa in particular, I guess, since I can't throw the baby out with the bathwater. Or whatever that saying is. Maybe it was the fact that it was a Sunday. And there was literally no one ANYWHERE. There was one coffee shop open (yes, Iowa, I contributed $3.22 to your economy. You're welcome.) It just wasn't really anything to write home about. Oh, except for this.

This, my Southern friends, is the MISSISSIPPI RIVER. IT'S BLUE UP HERE. Not brown, not muddy. Blue. Clear. Extremely beautiful. Upon further review, this view made Iowa worth it.

So that was our weekend away, I'll spare you the romantic details, but it really was exactly perfect, especially because of the before-mentioned fried cheese curds. "What the heck?" you might be thinking. "Curds? GROSS!"

No, no my friend. I am salivating even writing about them. These fried little nuggets of, you guessed it- cheese curds- are an appetizer, served with varying sauces. And we're not talking about mozarella sticks from your local Olive Garden. We're talking high-quality, exceptionally yummy cheese. Fried in some sort of cornmeal/flour batter that was unbelievably good. Yeah, I know fried foods are bad for you. And fried cheese is probably even worse. But man they're good. And so Wisconsin if you know what I mean.

And in this perfect atmosphere we celebrated, laughed, looked longingly into one another's eyes, etc etc etc (fade to black) and thought a lot about what has happened this past year.

Wisconsin is known for its cheese, afterall.

One Year Later

At approximately 10:30 (ok, it was an Anglican service, so let's say 11) on Sunday, September 27th, M and I will have been married for one year. ONLY one year. A WHOLE year. It's weird how it seems so much longer than that (in a very good way) and yet also so much shorter than that (in a very good way). We've had lots of changes...uh, hello, Chicago?...but I think we would both attest to the fact that we're stronger, more faithful, more loving people today thanks to the faithfulness of the Big Guy in the Sky. That's a technical, Biblical name, by the way. It's F3jfhfa in Hebrew. Wait, is that sacreligious?

M has planned a surprise get away weekend (surprise in that I don't know where we're going) for us and I'm REALLY looking forward to enjoying one another and a new adventure somewhere within driving-distance of Chicago. I'm also supposed to find out about a particular job (details, should I get it) on Monday or Tuesday, so it's nice to have something else to keep me, um, engaged pretty fully for the next few days.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

And anyways, we're married. It's legal.

Oh gosh, I hope my mom isn't reading this...

More gratuitous pictures of Hyde Park

I still sort of walk around in awe. The weather has been perfect since we moved in, so many afternoons this week we've just taken in the beauty all around us. It's pretty amazing.
Someone left their office window open. How do I get that office?

This has some technical name. I call it "the gate." Sounds reasonable enough.

Uh. Does this freak anyone else out just a little? Whose anatomy are they trying to receive? What does that even mean?! Are they going to...

Just think about the pretty buildings and flowers...ahhhh. Bliss.

FAQs

Here’s the part of this blog where I answer all of those “Frequently Asked Questions” regarding our move to Chicago. Hopefully I’ll cover them all with great aplomb.

Why are you moving?

This fall, M and I decided that it was time for him to go back to school in order to get his Masters of Public Policy. He spent most of November and December applying to schools (I believe the count was 13), never really expecting to get into all of the schools that he did. We had assumed we would stay here in Washington, DC and he would attend one of the great schools in the area, but when we found out that he had been accepted to the University of Chicago, our thoughts and feelings began to change. After talking with friends, family and M’s co-workers/superiors, as well as spending time in prayer, we decided to take the plunge and go with the University of Chicago’s program.

What are you going to be doing?

As of Monday, August 17th 2009, at 11:14am, I don’t have a job.

I take that back.

I have a part-time consulting job that will continue, but it’s only a few hours a month and, therefore, not enough to live on alone. I’ve had multiple interviews for multiple positions but still nothing. I’ve sent out approximately a bazillion emails to potential employers. No luck. I’ve applied for positions ranging from Coffee Maker to CEO, still nothing. Therefore, what I will be doing when we move to Chicago is….LOOKING FOR A JOB! We still feel very confident that we will be provided for, and I am beginning to see just how much this time of searching is refining me, humbling me and making me more dependent on the One who is my Provider. Don’t get me wrong here, though. I’ve raged. I’ve cried. I’ve thrown things (actually, I don’t think I have, but it seemed to fit with the other emotions). I’ve written letters to the President (you think I’m kidding…) I’ve felt depressed. I’ve felt that I somehow “deserve” a job. I’ve felt they must not understand how amazing I am. I’ve thought about contacting them and explaining to them why I’m so amazing. I’ve rethought why I think I’m amazing in the first place. I’m getting there.

Where will you be living?

Well, I’m sad to report that my letter to the Obamas has gone unreturned and so, therefore, we will not be renting out his house. Bummer. Instead, we’ll be renting an apartment on Hyde Park Boulevard (yes, we’ll be living on a BOULEVARD. How Parisian of us.) It’s a University Grad Student apartment, meaning all the other tenants are grad students as well. It’s a couple blocks from the church we think we’ll be attending, another couple blocks from the produce store I’m really excited about, and a quick bus ride for M to get to his classes.

What sports teams will you support?

M is extremely excited that the University of Chicago has a sucky football team (if they have one at all?) so we will continue to be Gators fans. Whew. That was a close one.
Additionally, seeing as how we will be living on the South Side, we’ll be official fans of the Chicago White Sox (and we think the Cubs are too popular already.) I know absolutely nothing about them, but hey, Go Team! We’ll also support Da Bears, simply because they are Da Bears. And we hope to go to Soldier Field in the middle of winter and watch a game. Because watching sports in -10 degree wind chill weather is apparently fun.

How long will you be in Chicago?

We don’t know for sure, but we hope to come back to Washington, DC once M graduates, which will be in two years. A lot can change between now and then, but as of right now, that’s what we’re thinking and feeling.

When are you going to have babies?

If I don’t find a job, I will seriously consider becoming a welfare mom. You have my word, and I’ll have your tax dollars.

When are you finally moving?

We pull out of DC on Sunday morning, August 30th. We’ll be stopping and staying with family in Columbus, OH, and arrive in Chicago on Monday, August 31st. Our last day at work here in DC is August 27th. You can come help us pack on Saturday, August 29th. No really. We would love to have you.

Are you excited? (Note, this is the most often-asked question that we receive)

WOOHOOOOOOOOOO! YEAH YEAH YEAH!!!!!! TOOT TOOT! YAY!!!!! YIPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

YES, we’re excited. Admittedly, not having a job is a bit of a downer, but we’re excited for this new adventure, for new friends and for this great educational opportunity. Saying goodbye is never easy or fun, but we are certain this is what is right for us. Being so newly married, the thought of going off together where we’ve never been known as anything other than a husband and wife is really exciting. Neither of us could have done this alone, and that’s why we’re so thankful that in this perfect timing, we have each other to travel with, encourage and minister along side. I don’t think we could ask for more.