Three Shorts Part II

Parking structures are confusing. I like the idea of them. Shading my car for me so I don't have to sit in a 100 degree box, or shielding my car from rain and therefore allowing me a dry walk to the mall. However, I only use them if we have had some form of prior aquaintance. If, let's say, the husband has used it and I see that it isn't one of those twisty turvy ones, then I'm good. I will be likely to use that one on a different occassion. But, if I haven't been in it before, I do not venture into it because I get lost. I never know which way to turn to get to my desired destination. I inevitably turn the wrong way and find myself disoriented, at the exit when I want to go up, or driving up when all I want to do is drive down. That being said.

One night the husband and I decided to go out. This in itself is a rarity, since both the husband and myself are more of homebodies. We generally spend our evenings cooking together, eating together, then watching a movie together. Sometimes we throw some delicious homemade strawberry daiquiris into the mix. But we're pretty content just sitting with each other and being. But this night we went out.

The husband always drives and I am his navigator. If he makes a wrong turn, he turns to me and complains that it is clearly my job to make sure he doesn't miss the exit or turn the wrong way. Even for the simplest of tasks such as driving to the grocery store that we frequent every week, the husband need my directions to take him there. I thought it would get better when he bought a car with a built-in GPS. No. On the contrary, the husband now requests that I sound like the GPS. For example, if we are one exit away from our destination, he wants me to "ding ding" at him so he knows he needs to exit next. I obviously do not oblige this request of his, but I always find it enertaining that he wishes I sound like his GPS lady whom he has named Judith, because he thinks this name depicts a nasty, mean woman.

On this particular night I directed him to a popular outdoor mall where we could enjoy a romantic meal together. When we got there it was packed. There was no parking in our normal parking structure, the one we frequently used. We were forced to drive around to the other parking structure. It didn't seem like a bad idea. It was the same distance from the restaurant as the other parking structure and it actually had parking. (Although I am navigator, once we get into a parking lot, the husband is in charge. He decides the parking spot, because he insists on parking the furthest away from the front door as possible. This is a battle in which I have accepted defeat and no longer try to direct him.) So, the husband found a parking space, somewhere in the middle and we walked.

On the way back from dinner, we realized that we didn't exactly remember where we parked. This was a new structure. We forgot to look at the numbers they have on the walls with the level and all I remembered was it was in the middle of a level that was somewhat high up. We decided that it must have been level 5 and started our ascent. We walked to the middle of the aisle where the car should have been, but we couldn't see it. After a while of wandering, the husband pulled out his keys so he could beep the unlock button and we would be able to locate our camouflaged vehicle.

We heard the "beep beep" indicating our car was behind us. The husband kept hitting the button "beep beep" "beep beep" "beep beep". We headed in the direction we thought the car should be. Our ears were telling us that we should see the car. Yet there was no car in sight. We looked crazy I'm sure. Imagine that old couple you see at the mall. You know the type. They are so old they can barely walk, and by walk I mean take such shuffled and tiny steps that they can only manage to move as fast as a snail might. This couple is always arguing over something completely irrelevant, like who is holding the other one up. And they are always walking aimlessly and somewhat lost, like they can't for the life of them remember why they came here in the first place. We are like them. We are lost, and can't for the life of us remember where the car is and why we decided to park in an unfamiliar parking garage in the first place.

We must have walked back and forth down that aisle and the next for 5 minutes at least. And it was worse because the parking structure was really busy. The kind of busy where people follow you in their cars so they can take your parking spot as you leave. We had numerous cars follow us at various points in our quest for the car. We finally decided that the "beep beep" had to be right where we were. There was no other option.

Until. It finally dawned on us that we were hearing the "beep beep" come from a level under us. What was even worse was that when we finally walked down to the correct level, somebody was stopped in the lane with their blinker on, waiting for the owners of the car whose lights have been blinking and horn has been "beep beeping" for the past 10 minutes.

Now every time I walk into, park in, or see a parking structure, I think of how ridiculous we must have looked scouring the aisles for our missing beeping car.

Three Shorts Part I

Over the course of our relationship, the husband and I have had some pretty entertaining experiences together. The next few posts will be dedicated to these short and unrelated stories.

Before the husband and I got married, we both lived at home and had never really lived on our own. (college dorms don't count) Prior to getting engaged, the husband bought a home, which quickly became our home once he proposed. He joked that I wasn't allowed to have a key to his house, but despite his sarcasm I did receive a key. Since the home he bought was brand new, he had to wait a few months to move in and when he did the neighborhood was not all built-up yet. Which could be a little scary. And since I still lived at home and we were only engaged, I did not stay over until after we were married. I would come, spend time and hang out until anywhere between 12 and 1 and then leave. This being said:

One night, just an ordinary night, it was time for me to go home so I gathered my things and the husband walked me to the door and we said goodnight. I walked to my car and realized that I forgot my phone inside. It had been a few minutes since I had already put all my things in my car and drove around the block before noticing that my phone was MIA. So I do what anyone in my situtation would do: I turned around and headed back to the house to retrieve it.

I didn't see the point in knocking since I had a key. I slowly slipped the key into the hole and turned the lock ever so slightly - so as to not make a sound.  I wouldn't want to wake the hard working husband after a long day of making me the happiest of women on Earth! (the husband's idea) The door began to creak open when without a warning I heard a boom.  What was that sound? I thought to myself wondering what could have just happened on the second floor of the house. Then the boom immediately transformed into a stampede of pounding steps. I quickly followed the steps pound across the master bedroom, down the hall and to the staircase. As I peered upward, I hollared with a whisper to my husband that "It's just me" fearing an all out assualt he was about to unleash like what Kate did to Jon for the first 3 seasons. If that didn't slap the biggest smirk across my face, the sight of him standing at the stairs ready to engage in brutal hand-to-hand combat would have brought anyone to tears. There he stood in nothing more than his loincloth (boxer shorts) with his mighy club hoisted above his head (cable remote control) ready to be hurled at the sad fool that chose to break into the husband's mighty fortress. Instead of an intruder, he saw me, bursting at the seams with laughter. To think he was really going to fend off intruders with a remote control by what? bopping them on the head!? It hadn't quite registered with the husband that it was only me, his little 'ole fiance and not some big bad bandit and he was not happy. He just couldn't seem to find the humor in it. I however, found the entire situation hysterical. I was laughing all the way home. And in the morning when I awoke this was the first thing I told my parents. Who also found it hilarious. This has become a favorite story of my parents. They still bring it up and everyone has a nice chuckle at my mighty husband's expense.

My Mighty Warrior

Oh Happy Days

The husband and I are celebrating our 1 year wedding anniversary today. One year ago we said "I do" and the past year has been amazing. Different than I expected, harder than I expected but amazing nonetheless. My mom told me that now the honeymoon is over, to which I responded "What honeymoon?" I love my husband and I can't wait for another year to be under our marriage, but I am so excited for our anniversary present!

A few months ago (Yes, the husband is most certainly a planner. Anything that involves travel especially is sure to be completely planned a few months in advance.) the husband played a nice trick on me. We were both downstairs in the kitchen, taking turns preparing dinner. I finished my portion of whatever I had been working on so I sat down to search the internet for something interesting to look at. After a few minutes, the husband asks if we could switch for a few minutes so he can look up something for work. I don't mind, I love it when we are both in the kitchen working together.

As dinner is finishing up I walk back to my computer to continue whatever it was I was doing to find a picture of the New York skyline on the screen. I was very confused at this point. And I'm one of those people that shows every emotion across their face all the time. My father refers to me as 'poker face' because I cannot concel my thoughts in the least. With questioning eyes and furrowed eye brows I ask the husband how he could possibly need that picture for work. To which he replies:

Well, we never went on a honeymoon and I know you have always wanted to go to New York so I thought we would go for our 1 year anniversary. I tried planning it but couldn't do it without talking to you first.

My husband is thoughtful like this all the time. I came home on Friday to a bouquet of gerbera daisies and field daisies (they were the flowers in our wedding) and the song 1234 by the plain white t's playing (my bridesmaids walked down the aisle to this song). He was hiding around the corner in the dining room so I didn't see that he was recording me. He also took me out to the Melting Pot last night for our anniversary dinner and is making me blueberry pancakes with homemade blueberry syrup on top this morning for breakfast. As he told me, this is our "anniversary weekend" in which I get to celebrate the happiest day of my life (I knew he couldn't be completely serious).

These moments where he and I get to reconnect and just be together are the happiest moments in my life. I am so blessed to have married such a wonderful man and am excited to see how our life together plays out.

Why bananas are not so good.

Being a fit and health-conscious individual I often find myself at the gym. Or running. And most of the time watching what I eat (this sometimes includes watching all those trans-fats and sugary love treats make their way to my mouth). But I make sure to get a physical every year and check that all my insides are working properly. I have never had a major health issue. So when I found myself waking up in the middle of the gym floor after fainting IN FRONT OF EVERYONE I was a little concerned.

Let me back up.

This past summer was the first summer the husband and I were married. Being so, I had to get on his health insurance and quit my other health plan. Because we are both teachers, it was easier to get my yearly physical in the summer. So it was summer and I was getting all checked out to confirm that I didn't have any bad diseases or high cholestoral and blah blah blah.

With physicals comes blood work. Which let me tell you is not so fun for me. I have small veins that roll, yay me, and whenever I tell the nurse who is hovering over me, wrapping that rubber thingy around my bicep and telling me to pump my fist that I have small veins that roll, they almost always roll their eyes and say "ok" completely uninterested. Then they spend the next three minutes or so poking my arm, digging it around under the skin trying to prick some part of the vein. When that doesn't work they start in on the other arm only to repeat the process. Needless to say, I always bruise and I always have multiple prick marks. Blood work also means fasting for at least 12 hours. Because of this, I choose to get my blood taken in the morning so I don't have to neglect food any longer than necessary. On this particular day, the plan was to go down to the office at 8am with the husband, get my blood work done, and eat a banana on the car ride to the gym.

Upon arriving at the gym I did my normal 30 minutes of cardio and then went into the weight room to do some circuit training while the husband finished his workout. Once I started lifting the weights I got light-headed. Let me preface this by saying I am not a sissy at the gym. I am one of those chicks who lifts more than a lot of the guys I see in there. (Let me also say that I am definitely not manly, so stop thinking it!)  So when I started getting light-headed I rested and made sure to drink a lot of water. This went away quickly and I continued on with my workout. Then I got nauseous. It came on so suddenly I thought I was going to puke up my stupid banana right there in the middle of the weight room. I immediately sat down and tried to breathe away the swirling acid I could feel engulfing my stomach.

At this point I knew something was not right. I told the husband that I needed to go to the bathroom because I was sure that I was going to vomit. As I started walking away though I starting seeing black spots (imagine a movie scene where a cirlce is formed surrounded by black zeroing in on the middle of the screen until all you see is black). Not only was I seeing black, but my knees starting buckling. The husband had to help me to the nearest bench so I would not fall. The queasiness was still eminent in the pit of my stomach. All I could think was that I HAD to get to the bathroom because there was no way I was going to be spewing banana chunks all over the weight room floor. I told the husband I had to get to the bathroom and starting moving again.

I was about 10 steps from the bathroom.

Then I woke up to pounding footsteps running toward me. I was looking up at the husband who was looking back and forth at me and the other people that were coming to my rescue. His eyes looked like googley-eyes, the kind that you would see on a stuffed puppy. No, like Puss in Boots from Shrek, most definitely Puss in Boots eyes. You might think this translated to concern, but all I could see in those eyes was embarrassment. He was utterly horrified that his wife fainted in the middle of the gym that we frequented a few times a week. And not only was the husband staring at me with those eyes, but I just happend to have passed out right by the stretching mats. (If you have ever been to the gym, the stretching mats are generally only used by a few people: old women, old men, and young hot chicks who don't really need to work out but go to the gym anyway to stretch and get hit on.) All the old ladies were staring at me with their mouths gaping wide open.

The pounding steps I heard were from the front desk staff. They sat me in a worokout chair and got me gatorade to drink thinking my sugar level was low and/or I was dehydrated. Which I knew I was neither of those things because I had about a liter of water prior to working out and I had a banana which is full of sugar. I got out of there as soon as I could convince everyone that I was fine. The husband helped by blaming it on the blood work. (He actually told them I had given blood that morning, as in donated blood, and I probably was just weak because I had less blood.)

Because this had never happened before, the husband thought it would be a good idea to make a doctor's appointment and get everything checked out. They actually gave me an EKG to check my heart. They said it was all good, I even had a resting heart rate in the low 50's. And, since I had just had blood work done, they analyzed all my levels.

It turns out I had too much potassium in my system. Do you know what too much potassium does to your body? No? I didn't either. It makes your heart beat slower. Coupled with me already having a slow heart-rate and me working out hard and having eaten a banana packed with potassium my brain: didn't have enough blood and oxygen. So my body simply shut down. In the middle of the gym.

It took me months to go back to that gym. I would instead travel an extra 5 miles out of my way to go to the other gym.

Also, since this episode, I have eaten 1 banana, and I quickly puked it up. Bananas and I are no longer on speaking terms.