And...happy day.

My 82-year-old grandma is on Facebook.

Sad day.

Happy Friday

I love days when happiness fills the air, and today is one of those days. Not totally sure why: it’s not like a best friend is getting married or a new baby is entering the world. But the fact it’s the start of a three-day weekend, we are heading to Lake of the Ozarks AND I met up with Carrie and the girls last night for Sex and the City 2 is enough to make me smile this beautiful Friday morning.

Who’s seen SATC2? What did you think?

I loved it. Watching the flick in the awesome Fork and Screen might have contributed to the fact that I loved it so—I mean, who doesn’t like to enjoy a few Boulevards while watching a movie!?! But I did really like it, cool theater or not. Puns galore, and you know how I’m a sucker for those puns. The Abu Dhabi trip tied in fairly naturally and I was worried that would be way too forced. And most importantly, more in this movie than any other SATC episode or flick did I feel I, and my girlfriends, could relate to Carrie & Co. Don’t get me wrong—my friends and I aren’t riding camels in the desert any time soon. In this flick, the girls just seemed a little more down to earth, and that I enjoyed. Some of the chicks I went with last night enjoyed the first SATC movie better. I did not. It was depressing! Yes (SPOILER ALERT), in the end, Carrie and Big got together. But who wants to watch 90 minutes about a woman stood up on her wedding day so depressed she can’t get out of bed? Not this happy-go-lucky gal.

So, I recommend it. That said, I recommend a lot of bad movies (well, good to me, bad to others), but if you are in the mood for a fun, chick flick, SATC 2 won’t disappoint.

Or maybe when it’s on DVD I can have the entire blogosphere over to watch it on the Fitch’s new TV.

Um.
Yeah.

Lesson learned: don’t send husband TV shopping with his friend or you might end up with a television larger than your stand.

And to this I say ew.

Typo

I realize I make typos in my blog. That's pretty atypical for me in non-blog life as I have to write and proof and write and proof all day for work, but I think that's why I am a little more lenient in this space.

Typos so drive me nuts though--especially in professional settings--so when I spotted this typo in US Weekly's enewsletter this morning I had to share. Who sees it? Leave it in the comment field--let's see which readers have eagle eyes!

Follow the blogger

Do you read my blog?

Ya' know--stop by and check it out once in a while? See what words of wisdom I have to impart.

If so, why not become a follower? All the cool readers are doing it. It's very easy--simply click "follow" down and to the right of this post and you will, in no time, become an official follower of "The Honeymoon is Over." I don't haze my followers nor do I make them go through a new follower orientation. So do it. Let me know you're reading. Maybe you'll get a Christmas card out of the deal. And then you can get posts delivered right to you via Google Reader. Ooohh--maybe I'l have a giveaway for my followers. This will be so much fun!

Okay, first things first. Just go ahead and follow.

Please?

Doing what it takes

I write this post as I am sitting in bed behind a locked bedroom door.

I had great intentions of chillaxing in the basement tonight and catching up on DVRed Grey's and Desperate Housewives episodes, but it is storming quite a bit and I got scared.

I got scared.

TFitch is in Denver for a few days on business.
He's been gone 15 hours.
There's a little thunder and lightening.
And I got scared.

Which begs the question: how did I do this for a year? How did I not get "scared" when he was working in Kentucky--11 days there, three days here--for 385 days.

I did it because I had to.

I had no choice.
It was a decision we made.
Getting scared, or for that matter, mad, frustrated, sad or lonely would do nothing.
I did what it took.

Now, don't get me wrong--it wasn't roses and sunshine all the time. I had my moments. I had my breakdowns. My tears. But for the most part, I like to think I did what it took.

I will; however, admit I didn't do it alone.

My friends were fabulous, but especially Josh and Shannon with whom I would have been lost without. They truly went above and beyond the call of friendship duty. Rides, dinner dates (x 1,000,000), "Can you please come over and help me with XYZ"-requests. And the same with my parents. From watching Macy or stopping by to let her out when I couldn't get home in time, to changing porch lights at a moment's notice.

Let me not forget Macy who was excellent company.

When you have to, you do what it takes. I like to think I did. But I know I didn't do it alone.

As for tonight, I've heard great things about Hulu.

If this was a Successsories picture...

...it would say "patience."

Good finds at the Goodwill

I recently found some awesome blogs* that have inspired the thrifter/DIYer in me. So, last night I went to the Goodwill by our house to shop around.

Among my purchases--totalling $14--were:

These gems. Aren't they beautiful?

If you say yes, you are LYING! They are hideous as is--hence their temporary home at the Goodwill! But you know what they say! One person's trash is another person's treasure. Wait until I get about 18 more of these, give them a fresh coat of paint and they display the postcards we collect on vacations! I can't wait! The postcards are currently hanging on a bulletin board in our home office. YAWN! Not sure where I'll display these--might need a bookcase, and I have an idea for that!--but soon they'll be just what I had in mind. The only question now is the color! I'm thinking either white, black, gold or maybe something totally different! I'll be sure to keep you posted on how this project progresses. Our office needs some help, but it's a struggle. We're at the mercy of the electrical outlets and phone cords (Internet) and in addition to being cute, the office needs to be functioning since it is where I work. More to come, more to come.

The other gem I am most excited about (bought five things total) is the medium Wilton Armatele bowl for $4.99. It's in great shape and matches one I already had at home. This bowl retails for $39.99. A little soap and water and now my find is good as new.

Happy Friday! I have an itch to hit up some garage sales, but it's not going to be very warm in Omaha this weekend.

* Blogs include but are not limited to: Remodelholic, Domestically Speaking, My Uncommon Slice of Suburbia and more.

O! What a City.

Omaha.

It's more than steaks.

It's more than some place in middle America.

It's a whole lot more than a lot of people think, which is why I'm so thrilled CNN and Southwest's Spirit Magazine have both profiled our great city within the last week.

Read.
Watch.
Visit.
Know what makes Omaha part of The Good Life.

Nashville

A few bloggers I follow are from Nashville and they have been chronicling the flooding taking place in their hometown. I had no idea until I saw the photos on their blogs. I realize I was out of commission a lot last weekend with Legally Blonde and running, but it doesn't seem this travesty is getting the attention it deserves. Maybe it's changing. Nonetheless, visit Beth's blog to see for yourself the devastation taking place in Nashville...and keep all of Nashville's residents in your thoughts.

I was running.

It's over. The training--over. The anticipation of what to expect--over. My first half-marathon--over. And I'm full of emotions: happiness, sadness, relief, muscle pain.

I can't stop looking at the pictures from yesterday and reliving it; you'd think it was a vacation or something. It's all still so vivid.

Start line: after hitting play on my Shuffle and "Eye of the Tiger" comes on---which I downloaded (kind of) as a joke but was coincidentally the first tune on my playlist: "Is this happening? Am I in a movie? Whelp; here goes nothing."

Mile 1: "Hello Kappa house! Man, I need to pee already. Ah, there's a bunch of Kiewit people in this. TFitch could have ran with me. And, hey, there's a group of Kappas. Hey sistas."

Mile 2: "Hey! There's TFitch and my bro! I thought they'd be having Bloodies at The Bar. Hey guys! What a fun surprise."

Mile 3: "If this was a 5K, I'd almost be done. Which would be nice considering how much I have to pee. Excuse me team of three frat guys that are walking. This chick needs to pass you. Ha ha ha ha ha. Hey, that shirt that says 'this sounded like a good idea months ago,' is funny. Isn't that the truth!?!?"

Mile 4: "Cool; our first water stop. How nice they put lids and straws in the cups so the water doesn't splash all over. I'm thirsty, but I have to pee too bad to drink and the porta-potty lines are too long. Think I can hold it for nine more miles? Excuse me, spectator dude that's smoking? The runners do not appreciate breathing your carcinogen into their lungs at this time."

Mile 5: "This isn't so bad. I'm kind of on running auto-pilot. Hey - there's the Person family! Hey Pitsy!"

Mile 6: "I can't hold it any longer. Porta-potty, here I come. Yum. Some fast food restaurant smells delicious. DAMNIT; I broke a nail!"

Mile 7: "Alright, approaching the Bike Rack, where I told TFitch and Kalin to stop and see us. It will be fun to see them. And more than half-way finished. I can do this! I'm so glad we drove the route yesterday so I know where we are going. Hey, Coty and Lucy!! Wasn't expecting to see you out here! That was a fun surprise!"

Mile 8: "I don't see them. They must have bailed. They're probably drinking. Oh, there they are; up on the right. Hey fellas! Good to see you here! I'm feeling pretty damn good!"

Mile 9: "I lied. Going to try this Gu Kelli recommended. It's in my pocket. The guy said Orange Sherbet was a good flavor. Here goes nothing. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. I am going to barf. Spit spit spit spit spit this shit out. Back into my pocket the Gu goes. Oh, and fantastic. A freaking hill. Well, might as well run as fast as possible and get this hell over with. Ah, Otoe street. Makes me think of the Neals. I love the little kids giving high-fives. Sorry to these kiddos though; after that hill I just can't do it now."

Mile 10:  "I thought this course was flat. I'm going to try one of these orange slices (which will leave my hands a sticky mess). And maybe some Gatorade. I haven't had any Gatorade yet. That sounds like it will give me some energy since the Gu did not. I wonder how they fill all those cups. Do you think there's an assembly line and one person fills, one person lids and one person straws? I wonder what would be the most efficient. Is this Antelope Park? Where are we?"

Mile 11: "10th and A street. That means we're almost done! But I know we have to at least go past O street, and since we're just now approaching B, that means we still have C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M and N streets AND the stadium is past O street. I might die. Dear God, please grant me the strength...I could really use some Rhianna right about now. Uh huh, uh huh."

Mile 12: "OHMIGOD. Surely this water stop indicates mile 12 but there is no sign. I need a sign. I need a freaking sign that says '12.' This freaking sucks. Give me some water. No lids and straws? Shit. I'm not stopping. Instead I will pour it all down the front of my shirt and use it to cleanse my hands from the sticky orange residue. Ah, here's O street, which is full of bars. Damn a Boulevard Wheat sounds awesome right now."

Mile 13: "Ah! The 13th mile marker. I think I am going to cry!" and I kind of do

Finish Line: "SSSUUUUHHHHH!!!! I'm done! I can't believe I am done! That went fast. That wasn't sssooo bad. It was awesome in fact! I need some water stat. How cool to be on the 50 year line INSIDE Memorial Stadium. I did it!"

Since I continue to relive yesterday morning mile by mile, that must mean it was a good experience. But will I do it again? I'm not sure. This was personal challenge I made with myself months ago, that I successfully completed. I'll never have the experience of a first half-marathon again; do I want to compete with the feelings I have today? I don't know.

What I do know is how awesome it was to have the amazing support from friends and family like I did. While Josh and Shannon were ultimately there to cheer on Dianna, it was so nice to be able to see them in the stands after. TFitch and Kalin--who chauffeured us to Lincoln at 5:15 am on a Sunday (the morning after a golf tournament, nonetheless) and played route stalkers--were awesome and made a huge impact. It was one of the first things Lindsay and I discussed after crossing the finish line. Mom and dad--now I think you know why I was so excited to have you come to Lincoln. And to my friends that mailed cards, sent text messages, left voicemails and posted Facebook messages--thank you.

For now, I think I'll continue to reminisce about what a great weekend it was and the fact my first 13.1 is done.

Vitamin D is for dogs

I love the sun.

I think there is no better feeling than skin burning from the raidiant star high above.

I realize this is not smart--stupid in fact--and I know I've made some bad decisions when it comes to the sun. I never wore sun screen in high school. Once I actually got second degree sunburns over my entire body becuase I laid out for about 12 hours straight--on a lake--with zero SPF protection. But nowadays, as my skin is the moly grail of sun damage and I've had a suspicisous spot on my back removed (benign, luckily), I'm trying to be better about wearing SPF.

Anywho, you know how they say people and their pets resemble each other? Check this out. We have an entire home for Macy to chillax in, and she opts for the spot in the sun--betwen the bed and ironing board in our master bedroom.

Ah, my little sun-worshipping pooch, Macy.

Does Banana Boat come in canine?

To renovate or not to renovate...that is the question.

We're staying in Omaha for a few more months--yay! More to come on that. But with this comes some questions about casa de Fitch. I'm getting the itch for a new house (two-story, privacy fence, three-car garage...ahhh!), but if we're only in Omaha for one more year, moving doesn't make sense and I know that. So, the question is...do we embark on some home projects to enjoy for our remaining time in this home or do we save the money and put it toward projects in a new residence? Specifically, I've been toying with the following (some for years):

Deck: We love having BBQs but we are outgrowing our deck space. The idea is to redo it and make it larger. This is; however, a pricey project and some revamped landscaping would have to happen around the new deck as well. To expand or not to expand...that is the question.

Flooring: We currently have laminate flooring in our kitchen, bathrooms and entry way. Blach. But it is definitely low maintenance, which I can't complain about. What I'd like to do is tile all of the current laminated flooring, rip out the carpet in the master bath and replace with tile and rip out the carpet under the kitchen table and tile that area too. I had this priced out once and it will cost about $4,000. To tile or not to tile...that is the question.

Countertops: New countertops would also be grand...but they'd also cost a few grand. Should I wait and let granite be a perk of a new house? To granite or not to granite...that is the question.

Landscaping: Some landscaping--around the power boxes in our backyard and on the side of our house where grass doesn't grow so well--would be nice. But again, we're looking at a chunk of change for this (and I do NOT landscape on my own anymore). To landscape or not to landscape...that is the question.

Driveway: With TFitch's work truck in the driveway now, I'd like to widen our driveway and make it a little easier to maneuver in and out of. I don't think it's that big of a project, but I do think there are sprinkler heads that need to be removed, etc. To concrete or not to concrete...that is the question.

I have a feeling we should sit tight and not invest in these projects. But at the same time, if we're living here for another year, we should love our house. Do any of these increase the value when we sell our house, or does it just make it sell faster--or do they do neither? I'm so torn as to what to do.

What would you do?

Lettering in Life

During yesterday’s nine-miler, I got to thinking about how it’s almost funny I am running a half-marathon. I didn’t excel at sports as a child. I tried, but I was far from the star athlete.  I enjoyed softball, but my parents reminded me how much I (read: they) loved boating and how my weekend softball tourneys would interrupt that. I was on JV tennis in high school for three years. I’d call me “fine.” I cut out of tryouts senior year because of a heart murmur that showed up during my physical. And, as a senior you couldn’t be on JV—had to make varsity—and I knew that wasn’t happening. Thank goodness for the heart murmur, right?

Not being a great athlete at Millard North High School; however, was hard. Hard because letter jackets were super cool at our school. At any given party there would be an assortment of black Reebok high tops scattered in the entry way and a pile of blue-wool and grey-sleeved jackets on the couch.  And obviously, since I didn’t letter in a sport, I didn’t have a letter jacket. (I did letter in academics but that was not the cool letter—sorry Josh. Only kidding, buddy.) 

While thinking about the irony of me—the non-athlete—running 13.1 miles, I thought “so what?” Who cares if some 18-year-old could run the 40 in record time or can make three-pointers like it’s nobody’s business? Is that what matters in life? While in 1998 it might have seemed so, the answer is no.

And that got me thinking about a lot. My job I love. My home. T Fitch and his great job. Macy. My incredible friends. My family. The fact that I have raised $4,600+ for breast cancer research and walked 120 miles over six days to show my commitment to the cause. Kappa. A college degree.

The list goes on.

Whether I’m walking around in a North Face fleece or a Banana Republic trench, these are the accomplishments I am proud of.  I don’t need them written on my back to remind me.

Someone get Eric Crouch on the phone...how’s that letter jacket fitting nowadays? 

Lara Bar(f)s

I like food.
I'm really not afraid to try any food.
I get pissed when someone won't try just one bite of something. I promise it won't kill you. (Unless of course you have a severe food allergy, in which case, don't try just one bite. At least not on my watch.)
Sure there are foods I don't care for--red meat, sausage, that's all I can really think of--but I'll always try them and will even force 'em down. This stems from my younger years. One time on a Disney vacation--I was about 10--I ordered escargot and lemon meringue pie in the same meal. Besides the obvious question as to what 10-year-old can eat a three-course meal, those typically are not the fave foods of a one-decade old person. In fact, the waiter ended up telling my parents I had a "sophisticated palate." I love that.

So, when I just took a bite of the Cherry Pie Lara Bar and nearly lost my Firehouse Sub lunch, you know it's bad. Bad bad bad bad bad.

Bring me snails anyday but please keep me away from those taste bud atrocities.

Dear half-marathon,

Sometimes I really hate you. Sometimes I hate that you make me run a long, long way on a Sunday. Sometimes I hate that you make my knee hurt and me worry that I won't be able to run 13.1 miles--and that I'll feel like a failure on the 50-yard line of Memorial Stadium in front of the other 7,999 runners and their onlookers. Sometimes I hate I paid $50 for two+ hours of RUNNING.

But sometimes I really love you. Sometimes I love that you make me run a long, long way on a Sunday--because I always feel better once I do. Sometimes I love that you make me feel strong, give me confidence and let me prove to myself I CAN DO THIS.

It's a love/hate relationship. But I think I'm ready for ya.

Friday Facebook Find

This one I call, "things that make you go hhhmmm..."

Macy vs. Riley

Riley the smiling dog was on the Today show this morning. Macy took one look at the TV and went ballistic. I only caught the tail end (pun intended) of Macy giving Riley a piece of her mind, but it was pretty funny--especially since she doesn't bark at other dogs on TV!

Don't Wait.

The pastor referenced this story during our Easter service and I thought it was great. I am getting better about living in the moment but I think it's something everyone struggles with at some point. What are you putting off for another day?

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This", he said, "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. "Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion." He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. his hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."


I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.


I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life. I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.


I'm not 'saving' anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom.  I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is, if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends.


"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. if it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I'm guessing-I'll never know.


It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write-one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them. I'm try very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.


And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special.


Every day, every minute, every breath truly is,....a gift from God.

Ann Wells, LA Times