Tag Archives: sandy

I like it here.

A few days ago Stephanie asked me, “what in your life are you happy about.  Right now?”

The question–so simple, yet so deeply complicated–caught me off-guard.  And of course I didn’t have an immidate answer.  I’m in one of those “so close but not yet” stages: awaiting the end of the semester (stress…) and a completely different type of schedule next semester (joy!), quitting my job (sad) but will soon have more time (awesome!), Christmas is coming and there is giddy anticipation, mom&dad are moving but in the meantime there is much work to be done, someday soon I’m going to have to start thinking about finding a job (which is exciting, but endlessly tiring).  The list could go on and on.

“My apartment,” I answered.  Such a lame thing to find happiness in.  But it is consistent.  And home.  And decorated the way I like.  I’m getting ready to start this period of my life all over again, but at least I have a home….for now.  And someone there who is willing to wait for me to eat dinner.

Also.  Design*Sponge makes me happy.


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This Girl: Watched re-runs of Jon and Kate Plus Eight during of middle-of-the-night insomnia.  She was joined by her roommate.

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Watch: “watch out”. Warning: “one has been spotted”.

A little known fact about this girl: when I was little I was deathly afraid of storms. I remember spending a lot of time hiding out with mom and dad and Chris in our unfinished basement and I’m still unsure if it was because it stormed a lot when we were young, or because it was the only thing that could keep me sane during rain.

Yesterday, during a Scrubsfest, the sirens began to sound to alert our little town that tornadoes were eminent. Now, I’m an adult and all, and I’m over that whole deathly-afraid -of-storms thing, but there is still this eeriness that looms. It makes my heart beat fast and my breathing become short. Normally I’d stand outside and watch as the clouds made their way toward us, but being in a new place and having heard that sightings had occurred in towns within 10 miles we decided to descend to the basement. Sandy could tell I was nervous.

Knowing that the rain was to hit us a few minutes after 8pm we shut the windows, and JUST as it started to downpour we made our way to the laundry room…a super creepy place in the underbelly of our building. Halfway down the stairs I worried about the possibility of the lights going out–which would leave us in the creepy basement in the dark. “Should we get a flashlight?” “No,” Sandy said. “Keep going!”

So, we spent the next half-hour chatting with friends from the washing machines. Luckily the power didn’t go out…because then we also would have been without a wireless signal. This was the result.

Hiding from the storms!
Luckily, we are still alive.


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Mary, I’m so glad I’m Thine.

Last Thursday Sandy and I (and all our faithful friends) managed to move our belongings into a new apartment.  We’re still getting used the the space (and continue to unpack…me more than her) and find the abode to be endlessly quirky but somehow quite wonderful.  This morning I studied and ate a scone on the back porch.  This evening I’m listening to a street that doesn’t sleep until about 3am (okay, so that part gets to me, but again, the place is quirky).

I was on hiatus all of last week in PA visiting Melanie and sitting in class learning out the importance of groaning in prayer, the eternal love bomb, The Truman Show, and that its ALL nuptials.  Want to know more?  Just ask…I’ll see if I can do the Word justice.  It is always interesting to me how small the Catholic world is.  A friend from the Rebuild by Church project was there, as were 2 women from Monsignor Uncle Dan’s parish, and the boyfriend of some beautiful woman named Therese Kinsley.

I returned to an empty apartment (aside from all the boxes that joyfully await(ed) being unpacked) and a bed that Sandy had made.  I had intended to sleep on the couch (again) but she’d put the frame together and put sheets on, knowing that I’d be more than exhausted when I got home.  She was right.

There is much to say, but sleep awaits me.  It would be nice to make it through tomorrow without coffee.

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Yesterday Sandy and I went to Bed Bath & Beyond to shop wedding gifts for the entourage of showers and weddings forthcoming this summer.

I had two registries to pick up–one wedding in a week, one for a shower and wedding later in the summer.  I became hopelessly overwhelmed by the whole thing, mostly because I found the process so…strange.  I mean, I suppose you’re throwing this big party so it is only proper that people bring expensive gifts.  I feel so funny buying things like silverware sets or bed sheets because they are so impersonal.  “Hey, where’d you get these great napkin rings?”  “Oh, the Browns bought them for us.  Aren’t they great?!”

You already know what you’re going to get.  And hardly any of the gifts have that touch of, “that was so thoughtful of him/her.”  And moreso, I was a little weirded out at the idea of buying bedsheets or a shower radio.  Something about those items screams naked–and that is just NOT a place I want a gift that I bought to go.

I’m probably looking at this the wrong way, but the whole thing stressed me out to no end.  Like, I had to take a break and come back to the kitchen section because I simply couldn’t decide on the right combination of items that were in the store, cost the right amount of money, and somewhat went together (“gee thanks for the toothbrush holder and the doormat…?  How considerate of you.”)


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Thanks, Mary.

About an hour north of Champaign, a car full of Chicagoians, and nearly through the fourth decade, my phone started to vibrate.  I ignored it and continued to lead the Hail Marys.  It rang again.  And again.  The other passengers started to shuffle–turning off the rings from their phones as well, attempting the maintain focus.

“Alright, somebody answer it.  It is obviously an emergency if we are ALL getting called.”

Sandy spoke to Rena.  She asked me if we could turn back.  Aaron, who was in the car, had the only keys NOT locked in Stephanie’s car, which was in Champaign.  “Can they call the police?” I asked.  Aaron called his wife and the two conversed.  He then asked, “Does anyone in the car have Will’s number?”

“I do.”  I began dialing Will.  “But what will calling him accomplish?”

Aaron explained that Will was en-route back to Champaign, while we were heading north.  Perhaps we could give him the keys somewhere along the way?

“Will.  Tell me where you are.”
“I’m on I57 at mile marker 281.”
“Stephanie locked her keys in the car.  Aaron has the other set of keys.  He is in my car.  We’re at mile….279.  You’re coming up to Onagra?”
“Yes.”  I could hear him telling Terry, the driver, to exit immediately.

Just as they pulled into the parking lot of the 66 station we turned off the highway’s ramp.  Upon pulling in next to them we all jumped out of the car to exchange hugs and keys and went on our merry (and miraculous?) ways


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“First we’ll make snow angels for a two hours, then we’ll go ice skating, then we’ll eat a whole roll of Tollhouse Cookiedough as fast as we can, and then we’ll snuggle.”

Sandy and I spent the last 24 hours celebrating Christmas in all its joy. After I worked all day on my paper we took the train into the city to watch and discuss Elf with nuns. It is one of my top Christmas movies and I laugh at it as if I am conversing with an old friend.

This morning we went shopping in our neighborhood, being sure to hit up all the really adorable stores we’ve been too busy to think about before the semester had concluded. It just so happens that the town was having a holiday celebration and we were able to enjoy a free horse-drawn carriage ride that left us giddy. After a rather successful shopping venture we headed home to make cookies and eat dinner (cookies). The night was concluded with a party at a friend’s house.

We’re in the spirit now.

Title compliments of Elf. 


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