Suburbia

Early evening this past Sunday was the epitome of suburbia perfection. Not that I'm saying this can't happen any place other than in the suburbs or that the suburbs are perfect. Goodness knows I'm a city girl. However, I was at my house when this happened and being that my house, The Dumpling, as named by my mom, is where this occurred, it is henceforth suburbia perfection.

Chris and I had just finished a run/walk (more walk than run) when we saw our neighbor, Wayne, putting together his new light post. Chris decided to help out so after realizing I was more of an annoyance than assistance, I went home and relaxed on the hammock. I was lying there thinking how blessed I was to be in my hammock. I was on my big deck outside of my beautiful house. Not only that but I had the luxury of relaxing. My job doesn't bleed over into my weekends and if I can stay focused on God, I can usually leave my thoughts of work at work. That day the sky was blue with just a few clouds in the sky. The breeze was blowing and the temperature was perfect. I closed my eyes and listened. I could hear the neighborhood kids playing. In the distance I heard the ice cream truck playing its music. The kids shrieked in delight and took off running toward the sound of the music. I leaned over in my hammock and watched the kids run, ride their bike, and roller skate to the corner as the ice cream truck pulled up. Little boys a few streets over trickled into the line that had formed next to the ice cream truck. As each child surrendered their money and received their treat, they slowly walked towards their house with a smile on their face.

I turned back in my hammock and closed my eyes. Ah, suburbia perfection.

In sickness and in health

Being sick is never fun. I don't care how much complaining I am allowed to do or how much I am babied by my husband, I would still rather be healthy. Since school is back in session, I have had my fair share of less than healthy days recently. About a week into school I woke up during one of my precious Saturday mornings with a fever. The fever lasted only a day but the sore throat/cold lasted a full week. My cough lasted two and a half weeks. By the time I gave the virus to Chris and he was getting over it, my cough was just about over.

Now that school has been in session for just over a month, I am sick again. No fever this time but the cold/head and chest congestion is so awful that I would almost rather have the fever. The cough has returned but not as bad as last time so maybe it will be gone before I give this new virus strain to Chris.

So this is what it means when they say, "in sickness and in health." The "until death due us part" must also have encompassed when I hocked up a luggie while on a walk during brief moments when I didn't want to exchange my body for someone else earlier this afternoon. Poor Chris saw me bend over towards the side walk and I'm sure was concerned I was going to throw up or something equally revolting when I spit out what felt like a golf ball sized wad of phlem. It was nasty but boy I felt better.

I'm hoping that I will be cured in a few days and that maybe, just maybe Chris won't get sick although he has already started sneezing.

Ah, wedded bliss.

Chicago Bears

Tomorrow is a very exciting day for me. It marks the official start to the Chicago Bears football season. The game is at 3:15 against the Green Bay Packers, our nemesis. Chris and I will have to get our Sunday errands done quickly so we can make it to a sports bar to watch the game. FOX is not one of the four television channels we get at our house hence the need for the sports bar.

The sports bar also comes in handy when the one lowly Chicago Bears fan wants to watch the game at the same time the rest of the city wants to watch the Indianapolis Colts game.

The excitement of the football season increased when Chris surprised me by buying a Chicago Bears flag for our house. We had been looking for one but had yet to purchase anything. I couldn't contain myself and had to put the flag up last Sunday as a little taster to the season. I walked down the hall in our house singing what I think was the wedding march while holding up the Bears flag. We took the ceremonial hanging of the flag to the next level by finding the Bears song on the internet. It was quite a moment being able to hang the flag on the house. I added the finishing touch to the house by bringing the Build-A-Bear, donning Chicago Bears garb including a helmet and football, to sit on the couch.

Let the Bears season begin!

Honeymoon Memories

I think I want another honeymoon. Sandals at St. Lucia here we come!

Weight loss

Weight loss is an interesting topic. It is on the cover of People magazine about every two months. It seems to be in every issue at least somewhere every week. It is frequently a story on msn.com, my news source, not to mention the main page of aol.com. And that doesn't even begin to touch the ads on TV and in magazines.

The subject is weight is one that Americans are obsessed. We want to lose weight but we don't want to have to actually work to lose weight. We want to, as my mom saw a magazine as we walked through the check out isle, melt off the fat. We want the quick fix. Even if it took us 6 months to put it on, we want to lose it in 6 weeks. We want instant gratification. Welcome to America!

Surprisingly, the topic of how to lose weight isn't want I want to write about. I'm clearly not an expert. I want to write about the attitudes I have come across as I have started my journey to lose weight. It has been very interesting.

I have come to realize that as Americans have gotten fatter, losing weight has no longer become a matter of feeling better about ourselves as much as it has become being thinner than THAT person, whomever THAT person might be at the moment.

Since marrying Chris, I have gained approximately 10 pounds. Since meeting Chris, I am up about 20 pounds. Granted when we met I was doing a lot of modeling, stressed out with graduate school, and probably weighed too little. Alright, go ahead and sling the tomatoes or snarl at me. That is what this post is about...other people's attitudes. After having to buy larger clothes and then having those become so uncomfortable that I had to unbutton, I knew it was time to do something.

I have always eaten relatively healthy but knew my portion control was over the top. I decided two weeks ago to start counting calories. I'm not talking about guesstimating my calories. I keep a little notepad with me and write down everything I eat along with the calories that are in it. The calorie counter on the internet has become my newest bookmark. It isn't easy and it is darn right impossible when guests are in town and we go out to eat. I typically do my best for breakfast and lunch and then try to order something relatively healthy for dinner knowing they are probably serving me 1000 calories more than I actually need.

My frustration comes when others see me writing my calories down and they harass me for being on a diet. Am I fifty pounds overweight? No. Could I be? Sure. That is why I am doing something about it now. Other people get upset that to them, I look relatively thin. It doesn't matter that I feel badly about myself and don't fit in my clothes. I am thinner than them so hence, I shouldn't be dieting and deserve abuse. I had a guy ask me today, "Are you on a diet?" I could tell in his tone of voice that I was in for some chastising words if I said yes so I simply ignored the question...which of course brought about chastising words anyway. It seems that people feeling good about themselves isn't as important. We see what we want to see and if that means we see someone who might not look too overweight on a diet, we look down on them with irritation.

The crux is this: It is socially unacceptable to be on a diet unless we are morbidly obese (a slight exaggeration but I'm allowed since this is my blog). It isn't fair. It isn't right. And it certainly makes counting calories much harder when I would rather eat a dump of cookie dough, have half a gallon of Spouse Like a House ice cream, or eat frosting, cake, or pie until I die.

THE WEEK OF TORREY

Chris had a celebration a few weeks ago. It was called THE WEEK OF TORREY. Chris invented it and Chris celebrated it. Of course he brought me along for the ride. It was my birthday on July 19th. It was a Wednesday. It wasn't any big deal...or to me it wasn't. However, Chris has a different spin on birthdays. To him, birthdays are HUGE. Hence the week long celebration.

The celebration began with my mom taking Chris and me out the week before since she was in town and would be back home by the time my birthDAY rolled around. It was then, in the restaurant parking lot at the top of his voice, that Chris declared THE WEEK OF TORREY having begun.

The following Monday Chris surprised me by setting up appointments for my best girlfriend and me to have a facial and a head massage at a spa in town. It was incredible. What guy thinks of setting up an appointment and then think of inviting your best friend along? That's right. No one...except my amazing husband.

On Tuesday Chris took me out for sushi which is one of my favorite foods next to chocolate, pizza, and my mom's oyster sauce chicken wings. After dinner he took me to the mall so I could go shopping and buy a dress of my choice. Again, what guy does that?

Wednesday was the real deal. It was my official birthday. If you were to ask me, a great birthday celebration consists of going out to eat and having the people close to you call and tell you Happy Birthday. A card of two also helps. :) My mom and sister called. My dad's call is encompassed in my mom's call. My brother's card and gift arrived on my actual b-day and two co-workers remembered it was my birthday. Not half bad if you ask me. For Chris, not good enough. He made me blueberry pancakes for breakfast and stashed a card in the dash of my car for me to find. He also took me to the Melting Pot which is an amazing way to ingest 5000 calories and walk out feeling like your skin won't stretch over your organs. It was a great day. It was a great birthday. But sadly, it was over. Or was it?

The following day Chris dropped my car off at the paint shop as my final surprise to my birthday. He had the hood of my car painted. I was in a car accident about 6+ months ago and had my hood replaced with a spare part. The spare hood had never been painted so was black. I liked to describe my car as a two toned ghetto machine. Chris had decided it was time for his wife to stop driving a ghetto machine. It was extremely thoughtful and was very exciting when I was able to pick up my one toned car and drive it home.

Yes, I think I have the best husband in the world. The only problem is, what the heck am I going to do for his birthday?

Indy Hash House Harriers

Everyone has different roles they play. For example, I am a daughter, wife, sister, niece, aunt, social worker, Christian, friend, etc... Chris and I can now add to that list of roles. As of last night, we are now Hashers.

Hash House Harriers (hhh) is a group of adults who get together for a game of hide and seek of sorts. Two "hares" get a 15 minute head start from the "hounds" or "hashers." The two hares bring with them chalk and flour. They create a trail through woods, water, construction sites, or anything they deem appropriate. The rule is that the trail must stay on public property. Being a veteran cross country runner, I figured I had this thing down since in cross country we spend our lives following a line that has been painted on the ground. That is what I expected: a solid line. WRONG! What fun is following a line?

While the hares were out creating the trail, the chalk talk commenced. It was here that I learned the trail might not be as easy as expected. The hares throw down a bit of flour letting the hashers know they are on the right trail but there are also symbols indicating the hashers have reached a intersection and need to search the area to determine the correct direction. The hares also put down marks that can be an incorrect trail. Chris and I ran into one of these last night. After going a quarter of a mile out of our way, we reached a marker that stated we had to count back twelve marks before we would be on the correct trail.

Oh, there is one more thing the hares do to slow down the hashers. The hares put beer on the trail. Amazingly enough, it works! The hares write "BN" in flour which means beer is near and the hashers must search for it. Once found, the socializing that started before the chalk talk begins again. When the beer is gone or the hashers start to get the itch to continue, whistles are blown and everyone picks up where the trail left off.

Last night's trail was an arduous one that weaved through a heavily wooded area and across streams. I managed to roll my ankle which the seasoned harrier behind me saw. He yelled "ankle traps" and the message was passed via yelling to all the runners and walkers that were behind us.

Hashers have their own language as well. When a trail is found, "on-on" is shouted which is then shouted by all those within hearing distance and carried on so every following behind knows. There is also the "on-in", "on-after", "down-down, " etc...

When the trail, which is anywhere from 3-5 miles long, ends, the runners wait for the walkers to arrive and more festivities begin. Virgin hashers are given a ceremony for making it through their first hash. There is much bawdy singing as violations that have occurred while on the trail are given out. Violations are handed down in the form of having to "down-down" a small amount of beer. One virgin hasher wore new shoes. Two others wore shirts with another race logo. Competition in any form is a huge violation so apparently the breast cancer run is competitive enough that wearing the shirt is a violation. Also, the first person to complete the trail commits a violation because for them to have come in first, surely they were running competitively. Chris and I were violated for being too passionate but being that we showed no affection at all (until we were given the violation and I planted a sloppy kiss on him) I think the hasher meant we were too in love. I liked that violation. :) I was also made to "down-down" for having a July birthday. The "down-down" is put into a plastic cup which equals the amount of beer inside of a small dixie cup. When the hashers have finished singing "down-down" and the cup is empty, you indicate that by placing the empty cup on your head...

I could write so much more about this incredibly fun experience but I will have to save some for later. Chris and I will be in Boston next weekend so we will miss the next hash and after last night, we are very sorry to miss any.

As I end this lengthy blog, imagine 30 grown adults running around blowing whistles, shouting to one another, getting lost, drinking beer, and laughing all for any passer buyer to see. Who wouldn't want to do it again?

2006 Formula One race in Indianapolis, Indiana. This is my part time job. It has gotten much more part time the last few years. I used to do a lot of modeling when I had a job that was very flexible. It is impossible to live in Indiana and be a full time model so all models are part time which means squeezing it into the already busy daily routine. Modeling means the phone rings and if I want a job, I need to be available during the work day usually one or two days later. It is almost impossible to plan around with a full time job and evening or weekend jobs are almost non-existent.

The only modeling I will do this year took place this past weekend. I am one of fifty girls who represent the United Sates at the Formula One, aka: United States Grand Prix. It is always a fun and exciting time. We are known as the grid girls and participate in the opening ceremonies at the race track. We help create the grids that each driver starts the race from. There are two girls at each grid. One of us hold the actual grid sign for the driver. The other girl holds the flag of the country the driver is from. I never said it was a hard job but it is a very fun job. The Formula One race is unlike any other race in the country. The elite, frequently the most wealthy from around the world, come to this race. Huge amounts of money are spent and if I am lucky, one of my wealthy friends takes Chris and me out. This year Chris already had plans so another girlfriend and I spent the race in a very nice suite. It was a great view to see the race plus they had free food and drinks. Poor social workers are always up for free food and drinks.

The other fun part to the weekend are the parties we are invited to. Red Bull is usually the sponsor and being one of the grid girls, we get an invite to each private party that Red Bull throws. Last year Chris and I got to rub shoulders with one of the Ferrari drivers...no not Schumacher. The other perk to the parties is people watching which truly should be a sport in and of itself. The outfits, the hair, the jewelry...all is great fun to watch.

But the event for this year has come to a close. I will wait eagerly for my check from my modeling agency so I can go on a wild spending spree for something exotic like a water softener or towel rods for the bathroom. The possibilities are endless.

Addendum to previous post

I want to clarify the final sentences in my previous post. Christopher and my family have been nothing but supportive throughout my job hunting and feet dragging. It is a blessing knowing I have them to turn to when I need encouragement. I will continue to write as I go on my journey of finding a new job.

self disclosure I

I'm dragging my feet.

I don't need anyone to tell me because I already know. My job search has been much discussion but little action.

I'm dragging my feet.

I know my job is not the best fit for me. I like short term relationships with my clients and not the long term "I must come up with something new every week and eventually fix them" relationships. I know, I know...no one who understands my job expects me to "fix" them but yet everyone expects me to fix them. I'm not sure I can make it off of the rewards of having a kid suspended only three times in a week instead of four times after six months of therapy. It isn't enough to keep me going. That isn't even considering the immense amount of pressure that comes with the title of "therapist." I like to refer out to therapists...Not BE a therapist.

So why am I dragging my feet?

After my last job where I was treated so poorly and every day was miserable, I vowed I would be in my new job for years. In fact, I told multiple people that I was here to stay. Initially I loved my job. Burnout wasn't on the horizon and I hadn't begun to feel the pressures of the job. Granted I was also getting married a month and a half after I started so that may have been part of my bliss. Even now, I still love many aspects of my job. My boss is amazing. My co-workers are incredible people. I truly love the children with whom I work.

My biggest problem now: I feel like a failure.

I feel like I went back on my word. I was considering telling my boss I am looking for a new job when a little bird decided to tell my boss first. I have a good enough relationship with my boss where I know she will be understanding and might even assist me in finding a better fit within the social work field. The hard part is that I also know I am disappointing her. Sure, I didn't make a promise that I would stay but I think I made a promise to myself and now I'm feeling the ramifications of that broken promise...to me, to her, to the people on my team.

I made my first phone call today to set up an informational interview. I am nervous because I'm not sure I know my niche yet. I know it isn't therapy but social work is an abyss of options. I'm not sure I can stomach starting all over AGAIN only to discover I was wrong AGAIN. Changing jobs is a frightening endeavor that is full of emotions that aren't easy to articulate.

I don't want to hear, "But you're such a good therapist." I need to hear, "I will support you in whatever you choose, this time and next time if that is what happens."

I will go at my pace and no one else's...not because I don't want to find a job faster but because I need to take care of my emotions as well as my career.

Thoughts on marriage...and Chris' hammock.

For Chris' half birthday, my parents, brother, and I all pitched in and bought Chris a hammock. My parents have one at their house and he absolutely loves it so we knew it would be a perfect gift. Chris' real birthday is the day of our wedding anniversay. Since I can already buy him winter clothes during Christmas, celebrating his birthday is the summer is much more fun. It also means he doesn't have to compete with any other event. Knowing Chris, he would bypass his birthday all together to make sure we focused on our anniversary. Birthdays are important to me which is why my family will continue to celebrate his birthday on June 3rd.

Yesterday I found out a friend of mine got married March 1st of this year. I was absolutely thrilled for him and couldn't wait to hear how much he liked married life. His response: I hate it. Hate it? How can anyone hate marriage. I know it can be rough. I've heard enough of the horror stories but the marriages that ended after only a few months typically happen in Hollywood, don't they? I'm not an expert after only 6 months but having been married twice as long as my friend, I feel that at least I know what it is like to be in the beginning stages.

I spoke with a previous roommate of mine yesterday afternoon after hearing from my friend about his marriage. My former roommate asked how married life was going. My response: It's perfect. Don't get me wrong. That doesn't mean we never argue, have hard feelings, or occasionally go to bed irritated with one another. If that were the case, I would have said our marriage was an anomaly. Our marriage, in my eyes, is perfect because we go through all of the trials of married couples but we continually strive to work through our differences. We hate those awkward moments of frustration enough to talk about it and get things resolved as soon as possible. We took great care in preparing ourselves for marriage by processing through hurdles other couples frequently run into after making the life long commitment.

Chris and I say please and thank you when one of us does the laundry, dishes, feeds the cats, takes out the trash, etc... Nothing is assumed or taken for granted. We appreciate each another. We help each other. And we completely adore each other. I know tough times with come but with Jesus as our focus, our families and friends as support, and a great marriage as a goal, we will make it through.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary

I'm not sure I have ever heard my mother ordered around more in my life. It was quite amusing. "Get me the teddy bear. Unlock my car. Get my purse. Bring me some lemonade." It was a real hoot, especially since I was sitting in my chair doing pretty much nothing at the time. I could see the irritation on my mother's face and it was increasing with each demand being made.

If you have read my mother's blog, motherofbridebyjan.blogspot.com, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Mary is the elderly woman who came to the garage sale we had last weekend. She is the epitome of the old lady who is set in her ways. To me Mary was, at the least, hysterical and at the most, a nudge to look for a new job. While most everyone else stood around with their jaws hanging out at the absurdity of this eccentric woman bossing my mom around, I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

Mary and I talked for quite a long time. She told me her husband died so that probably made her a widow. I said she was probably right. I asked if her husband died recently or a while back. She said he died in 1991, or 92, or 93...she couldn't quite remember. We talked about their marriage for a few minutes before moving on to how she organizes (or DOESN'T organize) her finances.

Mary made me think back to my days when I volunteered at the convalescent home. I almost always enjoyed being there. I always left feeling like I had been given more than I gave. With my current job, I feel like I give and give and give and give and never ever ever get back. With no emotional supports at the school, it is a lonely and unfulfilling job with rewards that are only found after extensive looking and a really good attitude.

During a recent meeting at work, everyone listened to the book Who Moved My Cheese. It was administrations way of trying to assist us with all of the changes going on.

I have come to a few conclusions which will only make sense if you have also read Who Moved My Cheese.

My job moved my cheese.
It took me a while to figure out my professional cheese was gone because so many other aspects of my life where my cheese hadn't been moved were great. By the time I realized my professional cheese was missing, I was close to starving. Then Mary came along. Mary took a big hunk of yummy cheese and waved it under my nose. I have put my running shoes back on and have started my way into the maze again. I am ready to find my new cheese and I know it will be bigger and better than it was before.

Bossy or not, Mary made a different that day. Thank you, Mary.

Feline friends or foes?

We have two cats, Moses and Mijo, and we love them dearly. For now, they make great substitutes for children. They need to be fed, loved, and have their litter box cleaned daily. If they fail to receive any of the following, they become irritable, crabby, and will leave unnecessary surprises on our new to us carpet. Overall they are wonderful cats. They are lap cats and enjoy nothing more than sleeping on Chris' chest when he is lying on the couch. They would sleep at the foot of our bed if we let them which we don't because I'm allergic. What was thought to be a simple request from our allergist, "Don't let the cats in the bedroom!" had turned out to be a problem that is only becoming more difficult.

As I think I have mentioned before, I sleep like a rock. Nothing bothers me. Noise? Not a problem. Lights? Never an issue. Obnoxious meowing and pawing at the door at 2:30 in the morning? Don't even notice. What makes it a problem is that Chris does not sleep like a rock. He is a lighter sleeper than my mother which I didn't think was humanly possible.

Has anyone seen the commercial for the cell phone where the kids throw a party, one piece of confetti drops on the floor and the mom hears it on the other end, knows it was confetti, and says she is headed home to break up the party? That, my dear friends, is my husband.

Going back to the cats, the meows and pawing used to start around 7:00 in the morning. Other than weekends when we like to sleep in, this was never an issue. The 7:00 quickly became 6:00 which became 5:30 etc... Last night was a new low. I didn't realize it until I woke up and saw the large sheet of tin foil on the guest bedroom. Apparently Moses had been pawing at the door at 1:30 to be let in/fed. Chris had had it. He got up, got the tin foil, spread it across the entrance to our bedroom door, and went back to bed. Cats aren't supposed to like the noise of tin foil so it makes them go away. Our cats are no different. They too hate the sound. What is different is that our cats are smarter. They moved the tin foil. They must have picked it up in their teeth or pushed it with their paws but it was no longer where Chris had placed it.

I'm not sure what happened in the remaining wee hours of the morning but Chris said that if it happens again, the cats are going in a closet. Any ideas?

Before and after shots

Here are a few before and after pictures of a few places in our house. It doesn't look like the same house.

Random thoughts on life

For the record, my husband chose this picture to post. Not exactly my first choice but there will be more to come. For the most part, I painted all the trim in the house and Chris did the roller brush. I didn't take us long to determine which of us is better at certain tasks. After 40 hours of painting, I don't think I can muster the motivation to even write about it. Moving on...

We will have been in our house for two weeks as of tomorrow. We have done little else than work on the house and work at work. I think we were getting in a rut so we decided to go on a date. It was refreshing to get out of the house at someplace other than Lowes, work, or the grocery store and have a sit down meal that neither of us cooked and neither of us had to clean up. We rented a few movies for the cold and rainy evening and settled in to watch what turned out to be a Christmas movie and drink hot chocolate. It was very funny having a perfect cold winter's night in mid-May.

As the rain continues to come down, I feel that there is so much to be thankful for. Chris and I have been married for almost 6 months and it has been the best 6 months of my life. We live in a beautiful home. My dad was able to nail down a job. We have a new niece who is cute as a button. Our families are healthy and my parents are more amazing than imaginable. I am very blessed.

Here I sit in my new house while Chris puts up shelves in the great room. The cats are tearing around the place as if they have lived here all their lives. Granted that is a bit different than the meows that emitted from their mouths for the 24 hours they were closed in a room while we moved and while they adjusted to the new house. Those meows sounded like the cats were being endlessly tortured. It was awful and woke up Chris and my parents numerous times throughout the night. Not me. You could drop a brick on my head and it wouldn't wake me up. But I digress...

It has been a whirlwind of a week. Chris and I decided to take on the task of painting the entire house. We took last Monday and Tuesday off from work and finished with the paint at 10PM Tuesday evening. We spent the next few nights packing only to finish yesterday morning about 5 minutes before our first helpers arrived. The moving began at 9:00 in the morning and didn't end until 4:00 when the last box was carried into the house. My parents graciously offered their time and drove down to help us. My mother, bless her, stepped off the plane at 5AM from a week long conference in California. My dad picked her up and they drove straight to our townhouse and starting moving boxes and furniture.

It is now late Sunday and Chris and I took off this Monday so we could spend the time unpacking our loads of boxes that filled the 26 foot truck. I never realized how much junk we have. It is amazing how much stuff two people accumulate when they get married a bit later in life. We don't even want to consider how much more challenging things must be for couples with children!!

Chris has been hanging pictures and I have been organizing what I once thought was a big closet. I have an embarrassingly huge number of shoes that somehow had to fit. I did manage to add one pair to the garage sale pile that will take place in Wheaton, IL Memorial Day weekend.

The clothes have been tucked away as well as the sheets, towels, and kitchen utensils. All that is left are the contents from the "miscellaneous" boxes and all of the candles, picture frames, pictures, and little odds and ends that need to find the perfect home. Thankfully this is the fun part and since Chris and I have similar taste in decorating, it should be relatively easy. Our house is slowly becoming our home and we are enjoying every minute of it.

Southern Hospitality

Chris and I have spent 32 hours working on the painting project known as our house. We took up the ridiculously huge project thinking it wouldn't take half the time it has already taken. We have two days left since we took Monday and Tuesday off from work and we will probably need the better half of the time. Thankfully little angels, Wayne and Kim, have descended upon us and made our job that much easier.

We were in the middle of taping the great room when I thought about when my family moved into the house in Wheaton, IL 20+ years ago. As my parents were loading our boxes in the house, the Vandermolens arrived with cookies in hand to welcome us to the neighborhood. Their daughter and I became fast friends since we were the same age and our families have stayed friends ever since. I had the thought that it would be so nice if someone were to welcome Chris and me to the neighborhood. I quickly laughed off the thought since welcoming someone to the neighborhood happens about as often as someone walking over to borrow a cup of sugar.

Then it happened. Southern hospitality in Indiana.

Not ten minutes after thinking about neighbors, Wayne and Kim came into our lives. Kim is in her mid 40's and Wayne is in his early 60's. Their backyard faces our backyard. They walked over to welcome us to the neighborhood. They were very sweet and the next day, Kim dropped off brownies straight out from the oven. She said that brownies are needed to help sustain us as we worked on painting the house. She also said that we were invited to dinner at their house the next night and they were picking up chicken from KFC. The KFC dinner was tonight and they went over the top in making sure there was enough food. They also loaned us their bright lamps to make painting at night easier and offered to loan us movies from their huge collection to watch after we move in. They are amazingly generous.

Kim keeps asking if so and so from the neighborhood has introduced themselves to us yet. When we say no, she informs us that so and so should be stopping by anytime. Apparently we already have friends who know us via Wayne and Kim.

And so the Southern Hospitality in Indiana goes. Chris and I will continue to get to know Wayne and Kim and will undoubtedly invite them over for dinner or dessert. In the mean time, we will be curious to see who else we will have the chance to meet in this wonderfully friendly neighborhood of ours.

Packing

Packing. It is quite possibly one of the most detested activities in life for me. Trips are fun but anyone who knows me prepares for the endless amount of moaning and groaning that occurs from the time I think about having to pack until the task is complete.

It isn't that packing itself is difficult. It is my own personality quirks that make packing about as appealing as poking my eye out. I am a highly organized person. My mother loves it because when I come home I frequently organize things in her house that are driving me crazy.

When I arrive at my destination during a vacation, I am usually happy because I have exactly what I need. I don't overpack although occasionally I will underpack. I choose exactly what I am going to wear for each day and place it on my bed as if there were a person lying on my bed wearing the clothes, earrings, necklace, and shoes that sit on the floor as it they were filled with feet.

Now imagine what is is like beginning the process of packing the house... Chris and I try to do a little each day so we won't be overwhelmed once moving day arrives. Of course our differences are now showing their face.

I said we shouldn't seal any of the boxes. Chris packed up the kitchen and sealed the boxes. He also packed up almost all of the food. Aren't we supposed to live here for another week and a half? Where are the pot holders? Did you pack all of the spatulas? Chris ended up opening the boxes.

This morning we spent more time packing. Chris kept working on the kitchen and I was in the living room. I walked into the kitchen and saw all of his packed boxes that were unsealed. He walked into the living room and saw all of my packed boxes sealed. I thought we weren't sealing any boxes? Well...we weren't...but you sealed some. Yes, and I unsealed them. Oops. Broke my own rule. Thankfully he is forgiving.

And now we are off to figure out what color we want to paint the living room... This should be another bloggable (is that a word?) experience.

Food, folks, and fun

I am very lucky to be married to a man who not only enjoys to cook but is wonderful at it. He also enjoys entertaining which I am horrible at. I get all tense and nervous having people over mostly because I am NOT a wonderful cook. Chris and I have come up with the perfect solution. He cooks while I talk to our guests and pour everyone wine. Side note: We think we are wine enthusiasts but confess we poured the cheap stuff this weekend because good wine wasn't in the budget.

Anyhoo, Chris and I had Hannah and Scott over for dinner. I have known Hannah for a few years as we have done multiple modeling gigs together. If Hannah is with me, I know we are going to have a good time. Last night wasn't any different. Chris cooked sun dried tomato and goat cheese stuffed chicken along with cheese and sweet onion orzo pasta. Both were out of this world. Hannah brought chocolate cake from a bakery nearby and that too was delicious.

When dinner was over we sat around and played a board game Hannah and Scott had brought with them. Imaginif needed at least three players but required the names of eight people. We brainstormed and came up with the four additional names we needed for the game. George W. Bush, the Easter bunny aka: Bunny, Helen who is our modeling agent, and Jesus were all excellent choices. The game turned out to be funny and a wonderful argument starter between the couples as we had to guess what other people would say if put in a certain situation.

Example: Imaginif Torrey were a soup. Would she be chili, french onion, won ton, chicken noodle, and a few other options I don't recall at the moment.

Me: "You said I would be french onion? I hate french onion soup."
Chris, trying to recover: "But french onion sounds sophisticated."
Me, trying to sound irritated but really laughing: "French onion soup has that soggy bread with the dump of cheese hanging limply over the side. What are you trying to tell me?"

We had a wonderful time. And Chris learned I am NOT like french onion soup.

In the beginning...

For most engaged females, the first thing they do shortly after becoming engaged is create a website for themselves on theknot.com which has great tips and is a creative way to tell others about how you and your fiance met, got engaged, etc... What follows is a little bit of what was on our webpage.

ABOUT TORREY
I remember the day I met Torrey. She walked in the orientation for our graduate program. She was the most stunning woman I have ever seen. With that said, we talked only on a surface level for most of the summer and fall semester. When we had the opporutunity to talk on my birthday, really talk, and learn about how we shared so many of our passions, activites, and most importantly our values and beliefs, something happened that I have trouble putting into words. Torrey is an example of God's grace. Her love is something that I did, do and will not deserve, yet she still does. She is, without a doubt the most amazing woman I have ever met. I can honestly say that her beauty has nothing to do with how she looks. Her heart is tremendously big and her passion she has for her calling as a social worker is humbling. Her constant awareness of her journey with God and her understanding of how our relationship will not flourish if God is not there makes my heart smile. There is never a day that goes by where she doesn't amaze me. My love for her goes far beyond what can be encapsulated by emotions, it is engraved on my heart. I only pray that God will give me the strength to reciprocate the love she has and will continue to give so freely. Thanks everybody. :) I know I am not telling anyone who knows Torrey something you don't already know, and for those of you who haven't had the opportunity, I can't wait for you to get to know her. You will fall in love with her as easily as I have. I am absolutely a blessed man.

ABOUT CHRISTOPHER
I am having difficulty putting into words how I feel about Christopher and what he means to me. How can one describe virtual perfection? When people ask me about Chris, all I can say is that he may not be a perfect man, but he is the perfect man for me. We connect on so many different levels. We can laugh and be silly and a few minutes later, be involved in a serious discussion about what it means to be a Christian in this postmodern era. He challenges me intellectually and motivates me to be a better person. His personal losses in his life have only made him stronger, more compassionate, and more loving. He is a man after God's own heart and Chris continues to keep our relationship focused on where it truly needs to be: Jesus Christ. I love Chris more today than I did yesterday and I will probably love him more tomorrow than I do today. I can't wait to be his wife and to begin our journey together as Mr. and Mrs. Ray. I hope that his parents would have been proud of us and our decision to commit ourselves to one another for the rest of our lives. I only wish they were here to share in our joy. Christopher Andrew Ray is an answer to prayer. He couldn't have come at a better time and he couldn't possibily be more amazing than he is. I love him dearly and will continue to love him for as long as I live.

HOW WE MET
Christopher and I met in our graduate program for social work. We were friends but the kind that talk during break between classes where nothing of real substance is said. December 3rd, we ran into each other at the university. It happened to be his birthday so I invited him out and said I would buy him a drink. We ended up meeting that night and had our first "real" conversation. We connected first on a spiritual level and it only got better from there. We quickly fell in love and knew we were going to get married.

HOW WE GOT ENGAGED
Christopher took me out for dinner and the entire time, I was waiting for him to propose. When we got back to his place and he hadn't proposed, I decided it wasn't going happen and I forgot about it. We started talking and he said he wished he could afford to buy me an engagement ring. I told him that the ring wasn't important. I said all I wanted was to marry him and that he didn't need a ring to propose to me. With that, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I said yes and only then did he pull out the most beautiful ring in the entire world.

Welcome to just a little bit more about Chris and Torrey.