I don't play the piano.

Three years ago I had jaw surgery. Yes, that's right, I had jaw surgery a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving (it was the only time I could do it....it was complete torture).  With that being said, I was incredibly drugged up and still not quite used to staying awake for full days when Thanksgiving dinner with the family came around. Saying it was "jaw surgery" makes it sound wayyy more simple than it actually was, but I'm not going to go into all of it because it's quite boring unless you're my dentist or surgeon (I hope they're both enjoying their boats!).

I wasn't even engaged to JD yet - and I was still news to his family. He has a really, really sweet family - and I love them to pieces, but back then I was still trying to impress them and show them that I was (am) a keeper. It was still the awkward part of a relationship as far as hanging out with the family went...they had only known I existed for about two months.. and here I am post surgery, drugged up and sitting at their dinner table not eating. Loads of fun for everyone involved.

Before I knew it - this is all extremely blurry to me - my future mother-in-law fills an awkward silence with "oh, Melanie plays the piano AND the organ!"

I, unable to really react in decent time, finally realize what she has said and give my not-yet-husband a look with my eyeballs practically falling out of my face that says "I DO NO SUCH THINGS"... he is, in return, giving me the exact same expression. Luke is sitting in between us. The conversation has all ready moved onto something else. His Aunt Linda has acknowledged that "Melanie plays the piano AND the organ"... the moment to correct them has passed. Besides, I'm drugged up... so I'm sitting there worried that I may have TOLD HER that I play the piano AND THE ORGAN... but I couldn't recall.

I think I had 4 naps that day... and it just didn't come up again. I figured it would go away and I wouldn't have to address the fact that I do not play the piano. Or the organ.

Then Christmas came around.

My boyfriend's mom, who thinks I can play, regularly plays at church and is incredibly talented, asks me to play while we're decorating the Christmas tree. I don't really remember what I did to get out of it, but she just concluded (out loud) that I was just being modest.

Easter comes. Same thing.

Eventually she asks more frequently.

We get married.

We have a year anniversary... all the while, this is going on. "Oh, Melanie, why don't you play something? I have music right here!", "you must be so talented you just don't want to show off"... inside my head. exploding.

By now, I've told my mom what's going on. She thinks it's hilarious, but I was really worried about explaining to my Mother-in-law that I didn't know where she came up with that... but I am not a fellow piano player. I was embarrassed that I had let it go on this long. But if you know my mother-in-law, you know that she is so sweet and so gentle... and the last person on earth you would want to disappoint. I guess I also came into this family worried about disappointing them (eh, insecurities... sillyness) which made it even harder to face. Mom and I had several discussions on how I could make this go away - but her advice was always to just tell the truth.

I called my Aunt Diana - who plays and has taught the piano - to ask her how long it would take her to teach me a song... a good song that seemed complicated enough for a pro to play - but easy enough for an amateur. She laughed. It was a short conversation.

It made me feel guilty.. but also, anytime his mom mentioned it - JD looked at me with this expression that I cannot even describe. He wanted to laugh.. and I wanted him to instigate this moment of truth confession extravaganza. He never did either.

Finally, this year (I KNOW... almost three years later) we were sitting down at Mimi's Cafe having brunch - and the subject comes up. Again.

I look at my husband. I knew it was time.

I took a deep breath.

It all came spilling out... the whole thing. I was almost in tears - which I'm sure seems ridiculous. My Father-in-law was the first to laugh (thank goodness) and eventually we all laughed. She revisits all the moments I've turned down playing the piano for her.. and it all comes together. She doesn't know when she got the idea that I had such talents... but she really believed that I told her.. and maybe I did.. on one very blurry, post-op day.

I'm sorry, I can't - I have to wash my hair.

I'm officially lame.

and I completely expect to get judged for this, but that's okay - I'm asking for it, right?

The husband and I got asked to go to dinner and a movie tonight. by friends that we haven't seen in a while. a long while....

it was sort of short notice.

We're not short notice kind of people (anymore).

Instead I (kindly) replied that we have a date.... at the grocery store... Looking back, I probably should have just left it at "we have a date".

I get how terrible that sounds, but in my defense, we really do love going to the grocery store together. And we're sooo out of all the things that make our tummies happy.

After I replied and felt like an ass (I mean, I may as well have said "I have to wash my hair"... which I really should do soon), I realized that she must think we're such losers now...


These are friends that we used to go out with and stay up until the wee hours of the morning dancing and drinking and laughing and being silly with.

Oops.

Off to Kroger!!

The (travel) Hangover.

Visiting the town I grew up in is always a little strange.

For one, the place always looks EXACTLY the same to me - even though I know there have to be changes... somewhere. It takes me a few days, typically, after a visit to East Texas to recuperate. It's not that I don't like being there, it's that it's emotionally draining - especially when my husband doesn't go with me.

The truth is: I have a lot that I left there that I don't have to face or think about. Until I'm there. Alone.

I went to the track (the high school track... well, the high school, middle school and elementary track... because the school I went to was that small) on Saturday to run a bit - I don't think I had been there since I graduated. And since I spent my senior year of high school avoiding the place altogether, it had probably been longer than that. I'm sure I'm not the only person who gets an eerie feeling being back there: for going to such a teeny school, I lost a lot of friends (in a school of this particular size, your friends with almost everyone... or you at least know everyone and pass them on a daily basis). When I say "lost friends", what I mean is: we all attended many funerals. We all = the people who had to deal with the same thing.

So, while running on the track, thoughts of these people.... these friends seemed to follow closely.

I know nostalgia can be an ugly thing... it's not that I think I'm the only person who left heartbreak, failed relationships (and friendships), my previous self, and headstones that I can't ever go look at - it's that I really don't think about any of this... (on purpose) - it hit me a little hard this time. I rarely go out of town without the husband... so this type of travel hangover isn't usually so bad. I think I'm just now over it this afternoon... I've been back since early Sunday.

I'm used to driving with my parents' house in my rear view and tears in my eyes... it still hurts, but I prepare myself for it. I wasn't prepared this time for the rest of it.

A certain guilt comes with living away from my family. We're a close family - so seeing them once a month (most of the time... sometimes more, sometimes less) is difficult. I see my brother even less than that... which I hate. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be, and I absolutely love Little Rock (believe it or not!), but it's never going to be easy to be away from them. I am always having to remind myself that they're not THAT far away... too far to have lunch with any given day... too far to go to my niece's dance recital at a moments notice... but not too far for a weekend visit.

Here's the thing: I don't see myself living there. Maybe, big fat maybe, back in DFW someday... but..I don't know.

I get panicky when I think about having kids and being away from all of them... but I have to remember: five years ago I had no idea I would be here... and I don't exactly know where I'll be five years from now. It's the comfort I have when this sort of panic comes up. I've never taken such comfort in the unknown.

I guess it's been kind of an exhausting three days - trying to digest the emotions... but I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

PS - this is not to say that my visit with my family and friends while I was in town wasn't great - because it was. I loved every second of spending time with them. Disclaimer complete.

This house is home.

The husband and I have lived in our home for a year now. We closed on September 16, 2010 (last year for my birthday: I GOT A HOUSE... hard to beat that!)... we took a little over a month to make some changes to it: have it painted (I can only live in a crayon box), changed out the fixtures, had the carpets cleaned... had the WHOLE THING cleaned... it took longer than we thought it would- but we were also extremely anxious to move out of the thimble we were living in at the time (not that there is anything wrong with thimbles, it's just that we were bursting out the seams... between the two of us, Luke, the dog *only one at the time!* and the cat... we seemed to be pretty squished - the cat needs an entire room to her self AT ALL TIMES).  Not to get all mushy, but (I'm gonna) it seems so surreal to me now that we've been here. For a year. Making this house ours... making it home. I feel like we've lived here forever (in a good way). We still have work to do on it... but I wouldn't trade it. I painted the front door just a few weeks ago - so that the neighbors can tell from the outside that it's a crayon box!

We've had parties here and holidays and visitors and quiet nights... we love this house.

Everything has happened faster for us than we ever imagined it would. I may have mentioned it before... but when we met - I KNEW I had to be with JD. I knew I was going to marry him and love him and share a life with him... but I had no idea how it would happen... or when...Things were complicated.

SO that makes living in our own home for a whole year a really. big. deal.

We laughed the other day remembering my first time to hang out with my parents and JD at the same time: it was my birthday in Denton (where I went to school) - JD and I had been dating for months, but my parents had just found out he existed. Mom and Dad came to take me shopping for my birthday. Guess what I wanted for my birthday? A MATTRESS. How awkward is that? I went MATTRESS SHOPPING with my parents and my boyfriend of ... a little while... that they just met.
      side note: it wasn't like me to keep things from my parents (still isn't...) so that made the situation even stranger... typically they knew every move I made - I've never been that secretive with them.

Later on JD told me that every time he was about to talk during that shopping extravaganza, he remembered to just not. There was nothing he could say that wouldn't be weird.... but I remember walking with mom through the store... looking over at my dad and my boyfriend testing the same mattress. Dad always looks calm and collected... JD usually does - but he looked so uncomfortable that day. Hilarious. We all tried so hard to keep straight faces that day - but I think all of us wanted to laugh. Not just a little: I mean the kind of uncontrollable laugh that may release a snort.

That was three years ago. It seems so long ago now. At the time, I had no idea that we would all be where we are today. Isn't life funny?

Back to the house: a few of my favorite photos from around the house this first year (in no particular order) -


Bella hamming it up for the camera.



Christmas night... just got done playing Santa. All ready for Luke to come down stairs.




Luke and Fallon loving on the new addition to the family: Shep.




with my sweet mother-in-law, Loretta, on JD's birthday.



me, Mario and my momma - Halloween :)




The Pete.




Synchronized sleeping. Post sugar rush at Luke's birthday party.




I understand how cheesy this photo is - but I still love it. Christmas Eve... a little bit of wine... done playing Santa... <3 We're kind of cheesy, anyway.. you'll get over it.



All set up for Couch Amanda's birthday party. I was impressed with the way JD decided to hang the balloons :)



Okay. Done gushing about all of this. For now.

Feel the burn.

It's not a secret that I'm trying to lose weight...

In fact, I feel like I'm being pretty annoying to the people who have to be around me all day (work folks.. the husband... Couch Amanda) because I'm slightly obsessed.... I almost have to be to make this work. Counting calories... working out... food journal... exercise journal... I've quit allowing myself to weigh except for once a week (Thursday is dooms day!)...I need some new conversation material, I'm aware.

Tonight Couch Amanda came over and we were going to do Jillian Micheals Yoga Meltdown DVD: keyword being MELTDOWN.

Unlike a traditional group exercise class, the instructor can't hear us (sorry... that's a given..but I felt the need to include it)... which is good, because Couch Amanda talks. A lot. And I usually laugh at whatever she has to say... then I say something.. she laughs... we crack ourselves up. We are hilarious, trust me.

BUT at one point I felt a little guilty that we weren't paying attention (I attended a REAL class this week... the kind where talking while workout is in session is frowned upon) and C. A. said "Pssssch, she can't hear us" - then she proceeded to flip my TV off. 

That's when things started going downhill.

about 10 minutes into this 30 minute DVD, Jillian froze up (in an unfortunate position, I must add) and we decided to give up on her. THEN SHE CAME BACK... C. A. was not very happy about it... she actually groaned and claimed her spot on the couch. I kept going listening to phrases like "you can probably feel the burn" and "slowly lower into chaturanga" and "you're doing great!". Jillian Micheals... you do not know that I'm doing great. And I officially hate the word "chaturanga".

Tomorrow: a trip to the gym without Jillian Micheals.

See.. I can't seem to talk about anything else. Eh...

Now, I get it.

There are certain things that, as a kid, I definitely did not have right about being an adult (I was just a kid... duh). Some of them good... some of them negative...some of them don't really matter at all....

Things I thought would rock as an adult: Not being in school, my hair, getting paid (don't worry, I'll elaborate), my wardrobe - without fail I knew my wardrobe would be amazing... why wouldn't it be?, my car (which I LOVE my car... but I'll elaborate). my friendships - relax, I said I would elaborate.

Things I never thought I would like about being an adult - or never expected to like: waking up before the sun, making dinner, grocery shopping, WEEKENDS... weekends are GOLD, being a homebody.

Let's explore these, shall we?

Not being in school: Don't get me wrong... I don't actually miss school... I miss the overlooked vacation time that came with it. Let me get this straight: You mean while I'm going to school for maybe 4 - 6 hours a day... with a giant nap in between classes... I get all those weeks off during the summer, a month during Christmas... and at least a 3 day weekend for any other teeny tiny reason to celebrate? But while I'm slaving with the people, I have to use my PTO to get that?... and it's not anywhere close to being that much time off? STUDENTS DO NOT NEED TIME OFF. WORKER SLAVES NEED TIME OFF. Students study all day - and I've been there, I know - that studying can consist of several naps, coffee runs, snack fests and episodes of "Snapped". WHAT.EVER. Being in school and absorbing information is not nearly as draining as a work week. I'm glad we've covered this.

My hair: I don't have a logical explanation for this one - just that I thought my hair would be way more awesome than it actually is.

Getting paid: I love getting paid  - but you know what? I don't like sharing 75% of my check with the people... whoever the people are. Taxes aren't something that pisses you off so completely until you're in the workforce for a few years (I've found...) Then... we bought a house and it made me even angrier... and.. where I work, many of the residents get government assistance while they sit in their apartments with their 4 kids they don't take care of smoking pot all day and not working... but they get MY money? Not cool. I'm so glad I can work to support those lazy individuals. Think of all the shoes that money could buy....but instead it's buying weed. Now, don't get me wrong, I know that there are some people who get government assistance and use it and are contributing members of society (I've yet to meet any of them, but I'm sure they exist) - but for the rest of them... you make me sick. I guess it's just frustrating to see what my check would be if it weren't for taxes. Can't they just keep me from seeing it? that would help, I think.

My wardrobe: see "getting paid".

My car: I love the Jetta. We've had a few really great years together. The only problem is... well, my depth perception. Last year some time I managed to hit one of those cement platforms that gas stations have... making my passenger back door very difficult to open and close.. THEN a few months after that, someone parked a golf cart behind my car... in the dark... while it was raining... and I hit that (although, not completely my fault....) - and here we are... about a year later.... it's not been fixed. You know why? It's just not a priority.... Once, when I was in high school, I backed into a friend's truck (I'm sure you're seeing a pattern... I only hit idle objects) and the next week my Dad had my car fixed... which, looking back, must have been difficult for him to do - it was MY fault! my expensive fault.... but I thought that's how it worked! It FELT like a priority when I was 16. It does not feel like a priority now...

My friendships: I grew up in a small town and, for the most part, had the same friends for most of my life. We went to the same school... our parents knew each other... if we had a tiff, it was either resolved quickly or swept under the rug (because going to a small school, if you weren't going to keep your friends, you probably weren't going to have any friends). I'll say this about those friendships: they felt equal... it felt like they would do for me whatever I would do for them - this could have been a delusion, but whatever. As an adult I seem to attract one way friendships... and I'm done with them. I have a few friends that I KNOW are there for me... and would be happy to give back to me what I can give - but not all of them... it's a frustrating realization, but I consider myself rich in those few friendships that I have.

Onto the things I didn't expect to enjoy, but DO!

Waking up early: I can get my workout in... eat breakfast.. maybe even do some laundry... all before I go to work. It's not always easy, but it puts me in a great mood and helps me stay productive throughout the day. To anyone who lived in my dorm hall - this would be SHOCKING.

Making dinner: My mom always made dinner. I always sort of dreaded that part of being an adult, but I've come to really enjoy cooking... and I love making dinner for my husband. And Couch Amanda.

Grocery shopping: it's kind of like a really expensive date for us! We really do like grocery shopping... I don't know why.. but we're those annoying people who hug in the soup aisle. It's sweet, you know it.

Weekends: In high school and even college weekends were not a huge deal... mainly because school is not as draining as working (we've been here before, remember?). I live for weekends. And a three day weekend... oh my gosh... drool.

Being a homebody: My parents always wanted to stay home... but they weren't necessarily doing anything... I GET IT. They were relaxing... they were hanging out (an important part of marriage... yes), they were not doing anything: and LOVED it. It always bugged me. Why weren't they out shopping with allll that money they made working all week? Why weren't they taking trips? Ohhhh, silly and naive Melanie - they were HAPPY. I love a good weekend of not doing anything. They're not as often as I would like... but they're priceless.

Okay... this turned out to be a lot longer than I meant for it to be. I'm not going to apologize, though ;)

PS - I don't really like a blog without photos - but for some reason my uploader thingy (technical term) is not cooperating. Stupid Internets.

No tenderloin for you!

I've been eyeballing this beef tenderloin recipe for quite a while now... but it requires something I don't have: bacon grease.

I've been told that this recipe cannot exist without it (by the the pioneer woman... who doesn't love her?!). She is a wittier, less crack-head (younger) version of Paula Dean. Same amount of butter: less annoying voice and basic demeanor.

This is what I'm talking about: 

Tonight my husband made cheeseburgers (I only ate ONE part of the bun, don't worry...and no bacon... or mayo... it was a less than exciting burger night for me - but the good news is I stayed under my calorie goal for the day... this is a really long side note) and he cannot have a cheeseburger without bacon: perfect opportunity!

NOT.

When I told him I needed him to keep the grease for me so I can use it later he informed me that he had plans for the bacon grease.

And you know what he did?

DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID?

He poured it on top of Shep's food.

That was his plan.

I suppose this is the husband's way of guaranteeing that when the zombies come, Shep will defend him first.

Shep is sleeping soundly with a full belly and a smile on his little puppy face.

The tenderloin will have to wait.

In other news: I conquered cake pops this weekend for a birthday party, and I'm kind of impressed with me. Just sayin'... Wanna see? 

It's a start, right?