Birthday Angst

A few years ago I was feeling all weird towards mid-January. I mentioned this at my writers group (which I DESPERATELY miss like crazy) and Sue mentioned the anxiety people get around birthdays. And thinking about it then, it totally made sense. Why I used to run around like a chicken with my head cut off when I was younger. Why I get all mopey now that I'm older.

Don't get me wrong. I love birthdays. I'm big on birthdays. I get that from my mom who was also big on birthdays. From breakfast to goodnight kisses, she found big and little ways to make the day special. I used to kid her and my dad that it was because they were usually gone to a company retreat on my actual birthday. They felt so bad that I had birthday celebrations during our Christmas vacation to Grand Cayman, in the summer so that I could have a pool party like my brother used to (my "un-Birthday") and so on. Then they'd leave me with grandparents who would feel equally as bad on my birthday and ply me with cake and attention like no other.

This is probably why I was set up for a lifetime of disappointment.

I'm only slightly kidding. But watching last week's episode of New Girl where Jess has these insanely large expectations for her birthday and is usually let down, I could relate. Not because Chef doesn't do a great job in making the day special (he does), but just because.

So this year, I'm trying to recognize the angst and know that I am working on my birthday so it can only be so good by its nature. And I will try to remember that I am off on Friday to have a celebration, a mani-pedi, get my hair done, eat copious amounts of seafood and then spend half of my Saturday getting pampered at the spa (see? Told you I am spoiled).

Until then, grr. I say.

What's for (Thanksgiving) dinner?

Part of this post is to take a moment and reminisce about all my favorite Thanksgiving foods (aka starchy foods). Part of this post is to remind people that in between Halloween and Christmas there is a holiday that may not have all the glitzy songs or decorations, but has what I consider to be most important: kick ass food.

This week is Thanksgiving and I for one am most excited to pile a load of cheesy, sweet, deliciously comforting carbs on a plate and devour it. It's the one tradition of Thanksgiving that I've been able to keep. As a kid, we didn't have a ton of Thanksgiving traditions. In fact, the only tradition seemed to be that we got together, which looking at it now seems like a good tradition to keep.

The Wrye Family Thanksgiving included getting up and going to both sets of grandparents. Some times we went to my mom's family first. Sometimes, my dad's. It just depended on when my mom's set decided to do something. My dad's side, aka my Grandma Wrye, always had dinner ready about 4 p.m., complete with setting off the smoke detector. Thanksgiving wasn't really Thanksgiving unless one of my tall, male relatives was reaching up to take the 9-volt out of the detector at some point. Never for anything big. Usually just some forgotten rolls. In the end, it was the BEST.

My mom's side, on the other hand, makes dinner for other people 363 other days a year as they own a restaurant. So my grandpa would insist that my grandma not cook a big meal. Sometimes she listened and we ate pizza. Sometimes she didn't and we had all the fixins. Toward the later years, my grandpa made sure my grandma didn't cook and made reservations for us to eat together. That was also awesome and the best. Again, the theme being that we actually got to see each other.

But as I got older and my time off was saved for the "big" holidays and people became more scattered, sometimes the only "Thanksgiving meal" I would get would be from the potluck at work (which is actually the smartest way to do it. Our office would pay for a precooked turkey and everyone brought in everything else. For the price of one dish (or bag of rolls if you were really lazy), you could get a full Thanksgiving meal.)

Now I'm fighting to keep Thanksgiving. It's hardly worth it to go all out for a full dinner for just the two of us
when I know the leftovers will never get eaten. So, I've picked my favorite carb and his and we'll dine on them. It will be delicious, if turkey-free. Maybe I'll get a pumpkin pie too. I love me some pumpkin pie. Or better yet, some Pumpkin Delight from The Pub (pumpkin cheesecake + pumpkin pie=heaven.)

What's your favorite Thanksgiving food?

A Week Ago. . . .

Naughty Auda and Me

In continuing with my shortened recount of where I was on my trip last week, I'll continue with last Monday. I got up at 6:36 EST. I only mention this because that equates to 3:36 PST. Which is kind of how my entire week went in some way or another. I ended up sleeping about 3 hours each night. Kind of explains why I started sneezing and being stuffed up last week and have spent all weekend sleeping and draining.

I got to Oakland City to visit my dad, took a tour of his campus and then headed off to see my grandma Wrye, aka Naughty Auda (which rhymes and is perhaps the most awesome nickname of all time, which makes sense because she's the most awesome lady of all time). We had a nice long visit. The only bummer of this trip was not getting to see my aunts and uncles on my dad's side. Since it was wedding on the Mom's side and I hadn't seen them in a LONG time, they got the visit. But it sucks having to miss people.

After seeing grandma, I met my dad at the Barnes and Noble, which used to be favorite jaunt of mine, and The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian."

checked out the bargain books. Sadly because of suitcase space and the "it's cheaper on Kindle" rationale, I only really check out local authors and discount books at the chain bookstores. Independent bookstores are a whole different matter. Apparently Evansville doesn't read enough because I got three bargain books for less than $16 and was a happy camper. What didn't make me so happy was the FIVE bookshelves dedicated to "Teen Paranormal Romance" and "NEW Teen Paranormal Romance." I totally blame Stephenie Meyer. Damn, Twilight books have made all teen girls think that true love is only available with a vampire, zombie or werewolf. I might end up writing something in YA just to go against the grain. Although I'm not sure I can do it as well as Sherman Alexie's "

I totally want Hermione's wand.

But they did redeem themselves with this little beauty from Hermione. :)

Dad and I went to a movie ("Now You See Me"--not too shabby) and dinner (for Father's Day) and just had a nice night. ... so I could get up again the next morning for more visiting.

"Let's Make Christmas Last"

"Christmas goes too quickly," my mom said. I don't think she was saying it to me. I think she was saying it to my dad at the other end of the table. "Let's make Christmas last this year."

He moved the casserole around on his plate and took a swig of the cola in his glass. "How do you suppose we do that?"

"Well," she said. Clearly she'd been waiting to unveil this idea. "I think on Christmas morning we should only open one present per hour. That way we won't have everything open in a few minutes of wrapping paper flurry. We can enjoy the day."

Whoa, whoa, whoa. She had perked my attention at the mention of presents. "Wait?!?" I cried. My brother had also caught on to this. "One present every hour?!?" he said.

"Yes. That way we have a whole day of Christmas instead of just a few minutes." She had put her fork and knife down and folded her hands together over the plate.

"But we'll still get Santa's presents in the morning, right?" said my older brother. "Because Santa doesn't wrap gifts."

"Why would Santa not come in the morning?" I said. "Santa doesn't have anything to do with this."

"Santa will be the same as always," mom said. "But our family presents are one per hour." And with that, it was decided.

***

The carcasses of new toys lay strewn about. Wire twist ties that had held legs down and oddly shaped cardboard lay about in the aftermath of Santa's visit. After the excitement of Santa had worn off , I was already jonesing for another present high. 

"Mom, can we open presents now?" I whined. She sighed and rolled her eyes a little. 

"Yes, pick one, and make it a good one because it's gotta last for the next hour," she said. I made my way under the tree and immediately started feeling boxes. I had learned a few Christmases before that I could identify a Barbie by feeling for the flexible plastic front on the box. I found one and chose it as my present.

My brother started crawling under the tree but then my dad got up in his bathroom and ubiquitous moccasin slippers. "Let me chose yours, Matt," he said. He crouched under the tree and pulled out a clandestine-looking box. "This is it."

We made a mad dash through the paper. Ripping as fast as we could. I caught glimpse of a glittery skirt and knew I had an evening Barbie, one of my most covetous kinds. My shrieks were only outmatched by my brother's.

"Now this is for both of you," my dad said. My mom looked less than amused. It seemed this her idea was taking a turn she hadn't anticipated. 

I peered over his shoulder. It was a Nintendo. THE Nintendo. The first version ever made and probably the only one in a three-hour radius.  My brother took off running for his room with the Nintendo box under his arm. My dad got up to follow.

"I should probably see if he needs any help," he said. I soon ran after them both. It took my brother a few minutes to set up the Nintendo but once he did, we were mesmerized. It came with controllers and gun and Duck Hunt. We took turns shooting our virtual Christmas dinner. My mother came back what seemed like a mere minute later.

"It's time for your next present, kids," she said. We barely looked up.

"Um, right now?" Matt said. His eyes never left the duck that floated across the TV screen.

"Yes." she said through gritted teeth. "Now."

We spent the hours in the day running back and forth from the tree to the TV in between games. We opened our last presents about 14 hours after we began, each hour our enthusiasm dwindling and my mother's eyes less shining. 

The next year, we tore through the presents like usual. 

And then we were married. . .

I have to say that as I look back, the smartest thing Chef and I did (which was mostly his doing) was getting married at the courthouse. While I've never been exceptionally afraid of being the center of attention, I have to admit that I was mighty nervous going to the courthouse yesterday morning. And getting ready was shaky too. And I only really calmed down once I was at the courthouse window checking in. I was calm then because there was a really anxious bride behind me tapping her foot and making so many comments about how her wedding was so important and didn't the ladies at the window know she had an appointment!! (For the record, her wedding was the one scheduled after ours and she had so many people in the courthouse that the people almost blocked our way into the chapel).

Anyway, once we checked in and started chatting with my dad who was awesome enough to come out to California to witness for us (more in a later blog post about our baseball game adventure), it was smooth sailing for Chef and I from there. The lady who officiated our wedding was spectacular. She was realistic, funny, and to the point. She made the occasion absolutely perfect and you could tell she loved doing it. Dad stood in the corner and took pictures on my phone for us (most of which we almost instantly posted on Facebook). It was over quickly and with a few tears, which was nice. I like being sentimental but not over the top.

And when it was done, we left the courthouse. Hugged Dad and I showed him the little packet I was carrying. It was a necklace that he had given my mom on their wedding day with a note from her to me explaining all that and hoping that I'd one day wear it. I wasn't able to wear it because the chain was so messed up, but I got to hold it and the note with me while I said my vows which made it more special. Plus I stowed in it the quarter that I borrowed from dad. Blue shoes with my sixpence and the new earrings from some Nashville friends and that old saying was checked off my list.

After the ceremony we ran some errands, had some carnitas tacos, picked up some cupcakes, and went home to pack. We checked in at the Fairmont Miramar in Santa Monica (thank you, Jack) and was instantly upgraded to an ocean view with two balconies suite. It's super nice and where I'm typing right now in a plush white bathrobe as I wait for breakfast. We were greeted with champagne in our room, cocktails while we waited for our room to be inspected, and drinks at dinner. For dinner, we went to the highly acclaimed restaurant on the first floor called FIG.

As we sat down, I hear someone call my name and look up to see one of the few people I know in LA and one of the even fewer people that I know in LA that's from Evansville staring back at me. Turns out that a friend from high school, Gaby, had just started at FIG the week before. She was so nice and hooked Chef and I up with some champagne at our table. The food was wonderful. I mean, they had bacon wrapped bacon as an appetizer (it was as delicious as it sounds--thinkbacon around large pancetta) and chicken and prosciutto brochettes. I had a fancy meatloaf and mashed potatoes with brussel sprouts and Chef had a pasta dish with rabbit. We were stuffed by the time we left. So much so that I not only bypassed dessert but didn't even get to eat my cupcake last night. Oh well. More for today.

Think we're going to be lazy, lounge around, eat some breakfast and maybe hit the beach. Not too shabby of a honeymoon!

Six Pence...None the Richer?

I got a package from my Grandma the other day (which I have yet to properly thank her for, but will at least publicly thank her for now) of a card with a sixpence in it. Why a sixpence? Because the complete old saying goes:

Something old,

something new

something borrowed

something blue

with a sixpence in your shoe

And what's even cooler is that sixpences weren't made after about 1970, so it's rare. I think it's super cool that she sent it to me and am excited to put it in my shoe for luck tomorrow. While we aren't doing a lot of traditional wedding things, I'm happy to be able to do that one.

And also in preparation for the day, my dad came in. We had a great day today and instead of just having a father daughter dance, we had a father-daughter baseball game. It seemed very appropriate for us. We drove down to Anaheim and saw the Angels play the Tigers. We had good tickets that were perfectly under the shade and saw a few homers, a few good double plays and had a good tie. Mostly it was just nice to relax and talk for a few hours. And neither of us had been to a game in a while. It was a dream for me to play hooky and watch an afternoon game. Loved it.

Now I'm prepping for dinner at Lawry's (yummy prime rib) and then a good night sleep for our civil ceremony at 10 a.m tomorrow. I'm not nervous about being married, but I have to admit the whole idea of a ceremony kind of freaks me out. I was nervous enough about messing up just getting the marriage license. I'm sure it'll be fine. I only have one line to remember.

But I'll have to say it with a coin in my shoe :).

Visiting Both My Homes

Last week I got to go home. . . to both of them, well, all three of them if you include my current home. I took a flight to Nashville and spent some time with my friends there. On my first night east of the Mississippi River in a while, I had dinner with some of my co-workers. It was so great to be among friends again. Not only that, but they were so sweet and threw me an impromptu bridal shower. Mostly it was just the opportunity to hang out with people who knew and liked me and whose lives I feel like I'll always be a part of or at the very least interested in.

The next day I got to hang out with my friend Greg and hit two of the places that I miss most in Nashville: Signature Nails and The Patterson House. I got a fantastic pedicure with a complimentary drink, a great foot massage and wonderful service. There are tons of nail places in LA, but I have yet to find the one that has all of those qualities. And the Patterson House. I think I've waxed poetic about the place and its drinks enough. It was the one place I visited last week that made Chef jealous. And the big bonus was that I got to have great conversations with Greg, which made me miss him even more.

The next day I went further north and saw my Uncle Ric and Aunt Deb, Grandma and my Aunt Mio. We had some damn good barbecue, which, along with quality pizza, is something I've yet to discover in LA. People don't just use smokers like they do down south. The history of barbecue isn't there. Then I visited my dad at his work, which was nice because it's always kind of cool to see friends and family members in their career element. Then I visited my Uncle Jeff and my other grandma, who didn't recognize me with the new hair and then when she did, she repeatedly told me how much she didn't like it. I also got to visit my mom's cousin and a family friend before heading off to New Harmony for the night.

Once in New Harmony, Robin and I went to dinner and then rolled around the city via golf cart. We picked out a location for the wedding reception next year (yay!) and then she showed me the coolest thing ever. We went down a dark path into the woods near the river and were surrounded by thousands of lightning bugs. It was like being in the middle of a twinkly light Christmas tree and looking out.

The next morning I had breakfast with Dad and Robin, took a tour of New Harmony and dad's office there, then headed to Evansville to hang out with Jack. We did lunch, then chatted and made muffins. Actually that's not a typo and I didn't make the muffins at all unless you count cheering him on from the sidelines. Did drinks and dinner with the Dicuses and Aunt Mio. Made tons more memories and was in bed at a decent hour to get up and in a car by 5:30 to catch my flight to New Orleans.

All in all, it was a packed but very much worth it trip to my previous two home states. I saw just about as many people as I could in the time allotted. Now I can't wait for them to come out West to enjoy some sunshine and the ability to be warm without being surrounded by air you can feel moisture in immediately.

A Dad Memory for Father's Day

Dad sometimes doesn't get enough shout outs on the blog. I hate to admit it, but that's mostly because he's still alive. You appreciate your parents while they're alive, but the nostalgia typically comes after they've passed away and thankfully that hasn't happened yet.

But as I was in a media training last week and busted out a memory of Dad and one of the lessons he taught me. Or at least a funny memory that I've used to illustrate a point.

When I was first learning how to play the outfield in softball, I had developed a nasty habit. Whenever the ball was hit to me, my first step was towards home plate. Normally that wouldn't have been bad, but I'm not the fastest person in the world. So if I took my first step in and then missed the ball over my head by a step, it pretty much infuriated everyone on the team, including my coach and myself. Dad decided after a game that he was going to break me out of the habit.

When everyone was gone, he grabbed a bat and some softballs and told me to stay in the outfield. He hit some pop flies to me, but gave me consequences: if I took my first step in, then I had to run a lap around the field--my least favorite activity at the time. If I didn't take my first step in, he would run the lap.

It took me about ten laps of pure exhaustion to get the point. It took dad two laps to realize the lesson was learned.

The time it takes to stop and think about what you're doing is less than the time it takes to reflexively do the wrong thing. And you often don't end up trying to catch up.

Happy early Father's Day everyone!

Weekend Visitors

I am vowing to leave work on time or even early (which is tough to do--I mean, I want to make sure I'm giving off the right appearance, but I have been coming in at least 30-45 minutes early all week and leaving at regular time. Yes, I neourotic. And a workaholic, but it just has to be that way.) I am vowing to leave early for two reasons:

1. Traffic is SIGNIFICANTLY worse going home on Fridays than any other day. And by "significantly," I mean that the drive that normally takes about an hour and fifteen minutes going home Monday-Thursday took me two hours and twenty minutes last Friday.
2. I need to get my rest and tidy up the place because I'm having my first visitors this weekend: MY DAD AND STEPMOM!!!!

I knew they'd be the first out here and am so excited to show them around our little neck of the woods. Dad also requested a trip to Santa Monica, which is very do-able, although might be a little chilly as it's only going to be about 60 this weekend. Dad and Robin are in town for a conference and Chef and I are so happy to have them come. I look forward to it tremendously and know that we're gonna have a great time.

In the mean time, I need to finish out my day and mentally prepare myself for the long ride home. I think I'm literally going to dig in and take the scenic route this time. A drive along the Pacific Coast Highway with the ocean to my right. Traffic isn't so bad to be stuck in with a view of something other than someone's bumper. Wish me luck!

Stromboli, Banana Fritters and the Dirt Diaper

All of the above items were available to eat this past weekend at the West Side Nut Club Fall Festival (aka the Fall Festival) in Evansville. I went home this weekend to see my best friends and we met up at the Fall Fest for old time's sake. I honestly hadn't been in more than a decade. It's a big deal in Evansville. Like a huge event with about 1/2 mile of trailers all offering disgustingly named, but deliciously tasting, items of food. It would probably be fair estimate that about 75% of the food items offered are fried.

We decided to divide and conquer for the most part so that we didn't end up getting sick like so many others. It's pretty easy to go from a good time to the vomiting with just one wrong calculation of fritters. I actually ate all or some of the following items: Chicken and Dumplings, corn fritters, Stromboli, fried macaroni & cheese, lemon shake-up, and banana fritters. It sounds like a lot, but that's actually not too bad. The only huge disappointment was the weak, microwaved Stromboli by the Young Democrats booth.

While those are some of the less weird items, there were a few items that were new (or oldies but goodies) that those not from Evansville find odd. Here's a few:

• Brain Sandwich (a LONG time festival favorite)
• Fried Oreos & Fried Twinkies
• Dirty Diaper (a pumpkin turnover)
• Pigeon Poop (I have no idea, but calling things something related to excrement tends to be a festival tradition)
• Gumbo, shrimp and other seafood (it's best to avoid as Indiana is a land locked state)
• Pronto Pups (similar to a corn dog, but not corn related at all)
• Orange Shake-ups
• Homemade potato chips
• Cheeseburgers
• Kuchen
• Fudge
• Yoohoo Shakes
• And more. . . .

While the food was pretty good--actually probably better than I remember--it was more awesome to spend time with my girls. We hung out all day and then headed back home on Sunday. I was also lucky enough to squeeze a quick visit in with my dad and my mom's side of the family.

The only think that sucks about the trip was the mold. There's a mold in southern Indiana that makes me miserable if I end up spending more than 24 hours in the area. I'm now still taking Claritin D and sounding like a congested crazy person. In fact, it's been three days now, so I'm beginning to wonder if I'm actually not only fighting allergies but also sickness. I have gone to bed at about 8:30 the last two nights.

No matter what if I had to do it again, I would gladly do it to see my friends and family.

No Blood, No Foul

Chef showed me this video the other day and I had two thoughts:

1) I didn't know that Amazing Race had started again this season (it hasn't).

2) There was no blood or broken bones visible, so the girl is probably fine. In fact, I immediately thought of my friend Amanda's Dad's saying that he busted out in times of injury: "Walk it off." ( for the record, my dad's saying is "One thing you know is that you never know.")

Chef said he was debating on showing me this video until he heard the girl who didn't get hit say "They don't call it the Amazing Race for nothing." That sealed the deal for him. Check it out:

A Blast From My Family's Past

Today I drove to Murray, Ky. Never been there before--actually, at least in my memory. Today as I was at a cemetery,I actually did remember being there, but I digress. If there hadn't been a Murray, Ky, there wouldn't have been me. It's where my family is from. I'm actually pretty lucky in that I've been to most all the towns that my grandparents and great grandparents have come from. It's pretty cool.

But today was really neat because I met my Dad, Robin and Grandma Wrye in Murray to take the tour. My dad went to school there. I'd actually been to my mother's college (she went to an all-girls catholic university that she sent me to summer camp at when I was 8). But I got to see Murray State, a school that I had rejected before it was even proffered. In my defense, I had rejected my mother's college even before she sent me there to be locked in a room with a piano and a nun during a particularly nice summer.

I got to see the land where my great grandma had lived, the house she designed later in life, the bones of the store that my great grandpa had started, and the grave of my dad's namesake (and my great-uncle who died at 22 years old in service over seas). It was pretty cool to listen to my grandma and dad as memories washed over them. It made me wonder what landmarks in my life that I'd want to revisit and point out to my potential offspring. An even smaller part of my ego wonders which house I've lived in that they'll make a historic landmark of when I become a widely famous author that is only partly adored in my own time and by those lucky few who were avid readers of my blog--still reading?

Anyway, it was a great day and I had a great time learning about those who came before me. Now to spend the evening in the loving company of Chef and the awesome Chili he's been working on for quite a few hours now.

Awkward Public Moments

Last night I went to a Predators game with my dad. It was a great night with dinner and conversation and just fun hanging out with my dad. We went to the Preds game and before we could get in, there was a group of people and a camera crew. Seeing as it's Nashville, it's not that unusual to see. In fact, most people were nonplussed, we just were trying to figure out who the crew was for.

At first, I thought it was Bill Frist. Then I saw a plethora of long curly hair on girls of all ages and realized that it was the Duggar Family from "18 Kids and Counting."It quite literally held up the line.

But that wasn't the awkward moment. The awkward moment came after the first period when we were sitting in a Club level suite with about 10 other strangers and a few people I knew. The announcements came on the jumbotron and the first one was a marriage proposal. I was sitting there thinking and nearly saying aloud "I love sports and all, but I'd be a little pissed if Chef pulled that."

A few seconds later there was a commotion behind us in the suite area. I thought it was someone bringing out a cake for a birthday celebration, but instead it was a middle-aged dude on his knee with a ring. The people around them were obviously friends and they were joyous. The woman getting proposed to. . .not so much. In fact, my dad overheard the guy say "Will you at least let me put the ring on your finger? Either way, I bought it for you and it's yours. "

Public proposals are a risky business. The stadium proposal is not as bad, unless you have cameras on you (this couple did not). But why you would perpetrate a public proposal without having a certain answer, is beyond me. I had a friend whose now-husband publicly proposed is an infinitely more creative way--but he was smart enough to she would say yes before doing it. It was my first witnessed public proposal. And a very awkward moment.

Can't Pinpoint the Crazy

For those of you out there that are football fans, you already know that today is a big day. It's the first day of Wildcard weekend for NFL play offs. Kick off for the early game is a mere 4 hours away and my Colts play in the late game. Last night as I was laying in bed, I could already feel the nerves. My stomach ached at midnight and I thought: What the hell is wrong with me?

I can't pinpoint the exact moment that I fell in love with sports. It could've been one of thousands of high school and college basketball games that I went to in Indiana when I was younger. Although I usually spent my younger years figuring out how to get money out of my parents for cokes and bubble gum.

It might have been a special trip that I took with my dad to Nashville, TN for a big junior college basketball tournament. I ended up with a new Cabbage Patch Kid, an appreciation for John Mellencamp, Meatloaf and Rod Stewars, and hours of bonding with my dad. He'd sit down with me at the beginning of every game and ask me if the teams were playing man to man or zone defense. We went to so many games and were such a fixture in our little basketball community that I was the flower girl in a junior college coach's wedding.

Basketball is easy to understand. We lived in Indiana--home of the Hoosiers, basketball goals in every driveway and literally a state where more citizens per capita average hoops playing time than any other place in the world. Getting into football was a different scenario altogether.

My dad and brother made the weekly three hour trek to Indianapolis to watch the abismal Colts lose to whoever came in that week. It was a special treat if I got to go along and I always loved being in the Hoosier Dome (before RCA soiled it). It wasn't until high school that I cared at all about football. I watched Notre Dame because it was in state and the only games consistently on television. I wasn't a Notre Dame fan though I learned the game by watching them play.

I don't know when I started getting nervous for games and caring so much that I'd schedule my real life around my sports life. My family still loves sports. I credit my dad for a lot of it, but my mom was also known to watch college basketball games on Saturday afternoons as she napped. We all have the bug. While I can't pinpoint exactly when I went crazy for sports, I can point my fingers at who helped make it happen.

And I wouldn't want it any other way.

2008 really was great

I loathe looking backward. I know there's learning to be done, but honestly, rehashing what I should've done in one situation that I can't change instead of applying what I learned to a situation that I can change just doesn't interest me. I learned that a long time ago as I used to stress so much about the decisions that I make.

Back in high school, I was so stressed trying to choose the right classes that I thought would dictate the perfect future, that I lost hair over it. Literally. Big bald patch right where my spine met my skull. Cost her $300 each session for four sessions and me the pain of having tiny cortisone injections in my head for the hair to grow back. After that, when I'd stress about having to plan a National Honor Society Charity Basketball game or taking a Calculus test, my mom would sit me on the couch, put her arms around me and say "There are very few decisions we make in life that can't be undone. Go with your gut and we can handle what happens from there." I would take a deep breath and as I visibly relaxed in her arms, she'd whisper "Besides, I can't afford for you to lose any more hair." Then we'd laugh.

So, while I can't change all my decisions, I've tried to worry less about them and just make them as they come. 2008 brought plenty of decisions for me to make and as I look back, I've been happy with them all.

Here are some things that I'm especially thankful for in 2008:

• I continued a healthy lifestyle (as I get ready to chow down on a wonderful filet that Chef is preparing as I type)
• lost more than 60 pounds and weigh less than I ever have as an adult
• continued to write and am close to finishing a rough draft for a novel
• gained great new friends and established stronger bonds with old ones
• worked hard to finally meet my potential at my job, which I adore
• opened my home and heart to three new pets and then thought "Why haven't I had pets for the last few years??? What was I waiting for??"
• survived and will continue to bear the burden of a weak IU basketball (and football, but does that really count?) team that will begin what I am sure is at least three years of taking on the Cubs mantra "There's always next year"
• that I actually like exercise and even more now that I've got a Wii fit
• I am finally turning 30, so that when people try to dismiss me as "too young" I can look at them and say "I'm not as young as I look. I'm in my 30s."
• However, I am forever thankful for my gene pool which, if my aging process holds to my mom and dad's, will have me looking younger than my age for decades to come

Thank you to everyone who was a integral part of my great 2008.