Childhood Crushes...

In life we all go through stages. There was a time when boys really weren't on my mind- a time when I wanted to just hang out with my friends and my family- then something happened. One night while in seventh grade, I spent the weekend at my father's house and discovered a music channel, Much Music. Even as a kid I was a night owl- it was about 2 a.m. (somehow I feel like I'm remembering the time). Either way, I was about 13 years old when the hormones turned on and I discovered the joy of boys. But not in the real sense. Let's face it, I was a chunky, nerdy, band/chorus geek, real boys were a few years off, even if this was the time I started having real crushes. From a distance. So back to my late night of t.v. watching and my big discovery. Sleeping on the pull-out sofa, flipping through the channels, I saw five young men. Five young men that sang and danced. I discovered the Backstreet Boys. Now, don't laugh. Don't judge. You know you've sang one of their songs in secret at some point in your life. "I want it that way," come on people, picture it, hear it, hum it. You just can't help yourself. You hate me don't you?

So, I was never a New Kids on the Block girl. They never peaked my interest. I was too young and let's face it, they really couldn't sing. Ouch. Sorry, I did say it. But BSB, oh yea, those harmonies pretty much made my musical hormonal heart jump and flutter. About a year after my discovery and my pleading to my mother to buy the imported CD, everyone else in my school started to discover them. All of a sudden everyone knew of the Backstreet Boys. I kind of hated it. They were mine! At least my thirteen-year-old self thought so. We all had our favorites. I was Brian's girl, my friend Trish loved Nick, and my friend Liz was a Kevin fan- sorry Howie and A.J.- you just weren't our childhood types. We would sit with our VHS tapes and rewind the concerts over and over again. The pelvic thrusts, the lifting of the shirts to show off their abs, Oh lord, we were in Heaven on our sleepover nights. This men thing was a great discovery.

I was obsessed. My walls were covered with their photos until the age of 17- yup, even after I discovered real life men, I still had these fantasy men on my walls. My highschool sweetheart would just have to understand. I even tried to send in an audition tape to Fanatic at the age of 14. Yup, Crazy. I ended up in the audience of one of the MTV shows that they were on. I was so close to them. It was great. My hair was all crazy braided. I looked ridiculous, but I thought I looked great. And Dad, keep the video tape to yourself. Burn it. Looking back on that is just a scary thought. I'm just not interested in the hubby seeing that crazy, chunky, obsessive side of me. At least until I get pregnant. Haha, sorry hubby, I had to.

I think at a young age, and feeling very insecure in myself, it was so easy to crush on these imaginary boys. By the age of 18 and two years into my high school relationship, the obsessiveness dwindled. Significantly. All of a sudden, I just liked to listen to the music. Weird. I still bought their albums, I still went to concerts. I think I have nine or ten under my belt (Including Nick Carter's solo stint). But it was just something to do with my girlfriends; it was something that we had in common.

My sweetheart was in the navy and I traveled a lot to see him. I had two stints in Japan. After the relationship went downhill we tried to work things out in Japan— it didn't work out. It was hard on me to be very alone in a strange place. While surfing the internet I found out that Nick, who wasn't my favorite, was touring in Japan. Seriously? Score, perfect timing! Yes, I found myself something to occupy my time. At least for a day or two. So I traveled to Tokyo from the outskirts of the base and went to a concert of his and then a music store appearance. It was fun and I met great people. The Japanese are so sweet. Especially the BSB fans. I stayed at the Four Seasons Hotel where he stayed and had so much fun hanging out with a group of Japanese girls. Then, I met him. I talked to him for a bit at a restaurant in the hotel. It was kind of cool because he was really down to Earth and I actually found myself not star struck anymore. I wish I could remember every word, but alas, I can't. Then he asked me my room number and he told me his room number. Yea, crazy. What the heck was I doing I thought to myself. But it was a crazy adrenaline rush. I loved it. The ex-boyfriend wasn't exactly great on my self-esteem, so having my childhood crush talk to me was kind of crazy. He went out later that night and me and the girls went out too, but I met him again outside of the club. He stopped and put his hands through my hair and said, "love your hair, you're a beautiful girl." I quote because I couldn't forget that! I got a peck and then his friend pulled his drunken mess of a self away and he said he had to go. Which was probably for the best. But I got a great memory out of it. I spent the rest of the night hanging out with his bodyguard and some of the girls in the lobby of the hotel. He was passed out. No room number was ever used, in case you thought that badly of me. Now granted, I'm pretty sure the only reason he noticed me out of the crowd was that I was the only American girl in the crowd- at 5'5 I actually stood out- the brown hair and blue eyes didn't hurt either. Once I went back to my ex's house I called my mom back in NY and told her about my experience. I was on such a high. I felt so pretty. It was a BSB that took notice of me- my childhood dream, even if he wasn't the one I crushed on as a kid, it was still something I would never forget.

Eventually when I got back home to NY I was off of my high and back to reality. No more celeb interaction. No more childhood dream. A few weeks after that Z100 had a chance to meet Nick in NY at their interview with him. I won tickets. Don't ask me how. Ok, here's how— they had people call in with their best pick up lines. Now, I'm innocent, I swear. Really, I am. But I heard this great line on a tv show so I went with it— "Hi, my name is Dana, remember it because you'll be screaming it later." Yup, I said it. I won tickets dammit! It is a good one right? Come on, I know if you're single you're going to use it. I know it. So I "met" Nick again and he remembered me. "You were in Japan right? Why the hell were you in Japan anyway?" So I told him about the navy ex and all that good stuff. He smiled. Said it was crazy. Took another pic and the rest is history. No big deal. It was fun. I was such a dork. And I loved it.

A few years ago my girlfriend and I went to another concert. It was great. But it wasn't the same. I remembered the times when I was such a little kid and that made it fun. I look at the boy bands now, the Jonas Brothers per say, and I never understand it. Maybe it's the age. Maybe it's the whole life process, but at this age, I can't understand it. I've found myself in the past couple of weeks looking for concerts for my girlfriend's bachelorette party, but they're only in the area when the hubby and I are away on vacation. I'm such a country girl when it comes to music, so the BSB are definitely a fluke in my music library, but it makes me feel like a kid again. How many people can say a star told them they were beautiful (drunken or not haha). Every once in awhile, I pop in a BSB song on my playlist just to remember the ease of childhood life when all that mattered were sleepovers, cheesy music, and staying up late with friends to watch those five guys.

Bet you didn't know this side of me— don't look down on me— you know you've hummed a BSB tune at one point or another. Just admit it, you'll feel better.

Good Things...

You know that old adage, "nothing in life is for free" ?- Well, it may be true, but every once in awhile you get a really good deal. Sometimes, good things in life really do come for free, even if there are some stipulations.

A couple of weeks ago I was really randomly checking out craigslist just to see what was new with the site. Now, when I was in NYC, I checked out craigslist frequently. For jobs, for stuff. Sometimes, just to pass the time because it was the "in" thing to do at the time. After moving back upstate I really haven't looked at the site for years. But for some reason I just decided to check it out. Lucky me, the first time I ever really used the site, actually paid off for me. I went under the category of "free" just to see what came up and there it was, a 1907 Gordon & Son piano. I really couldn't believe it. In the picture the piano looked like it was in pretty good shape and the family was giving it away for free, just so they could "reclaim the space." I couldn't believe it. It had to be too good to be true right? Well, I emailed the poster and to my surprise I was quickly given a response back, that yes the piano was still available and it was, indeed, free. The only stipulation was that the piano had to be moved by professional movers because the owners didn't want their hardwood floors ruined. So, I called movers and found that it could be done for $250. After checking out the piano with my hubby and seeing that the piano was in really good shape, we decided to go for it.

Now, you may be thinking, "you play piano?" — well, not exactly. I know the keys and I know how to get around on some notes, but I do not play per say. However, I'd love to learn a bit more and the hubby and I have both decided that music is very important to our future child. Yup, child. Now you may be thinking, "whoa, you're pregnant?" Nope, we're not pregnant, but one day we would like to be. Possibly. Either way, it's always been a dream of mine to own a piano. And even if we have to restore it eventually, it will be way worth the price tag of zero dollars. Well, $250 if you really want to count the movers. But it's been well worth the journey. Now I find myself looking at craigslist a little more often, just incase there are more free deals out there. I still can't believe that I have this great piano in our basement. I love to go down and play around. It would be great to hear a little one on there one day. Maybe they could actually play play, not play like I play— like a rooster pecking for food...

Wow, It's Been too Long...

So I've been a little preoccupied lately. I've been one of those bad bloggers— you know the ones who get people interested in reading about what they've got to say, only to go and get some sort of a life, so they barely blog anymore. Yup, that's me. Now when I say "some sort of a life" I really mean, we have a new member of our family, our puppy. Now when I say I've got readers, I really mean, my mom and my best friend. But, either way, I've been a bad blogger.

Have you ever had something or someone enter your life and then you think to yourself, "how did I ever live without this/them?" - Well, that's me with our puppy. I don't know how I went through the day without her. She's loving and playful and just a cuddlebug. I love it. When my hubby is away at work, I sit and cuddle with her or play with her, or even talk to her while I do my stuff around the house. Animal experts talk about animals having separation anxiety and they try to teach us humans on how to help the animals deal with it. Now, one thing they never mention is the separation anxiety that dog moms and dads experience. Because let me be clear on this, I am her human mother.

I never thought I would be one of those people that took a dog on car rides or took the dog to the store, but yup, I am. On her first night in our house I had to take her to a bar... in a purse. I came home from work to her out of her crate. As her mom I was scared for her safety, so I had to bring her with me when I picked up my hubby from his first night out in a long time. So there she sat, quietly in my bag to pick up her human daddy. I've taken her to Lowes and Home Goods. I've spent countless dollars on her vet visits and on her toys and food. Hubby has done the same. Seeing her little tail wag when we come home is worth every penny. It's worth every accident she's had in the house and on the furniture. I never would have thought that 1.9 pounds of fur could equal a million dollars worth of happiness. But that's exactly what she does.

So, if I've strayed from the blogging world, please forgive me. I am a new mother and I've had a countless number of sleepless nights due to my new puppy. I've had to bathe her poopy fur and clean her little eyes. Yet, all the time I've spent mad at her could never add up to a second of happiness that she gives me...

During my little sabbatical from blogging, even with working at actual paying jobs, I also enjoyed being a little nostalgic about my youth. Reading through old journals about who I was in "like" with and who I was "bosom buddies" with really made me think of how much high school and middle school really never mattered in the scheme of things (It also made me realize how pretentious I was as a little kid). I remember my mom saying to me when I was a kid, "remember these times, these are going to be the best years of your life." Thank God she was wrong! Reading back on journals and looking back on the chunkier years of my youth, I was a happy girl, but even at a young age, I focused on my weight and always felt out of place because of it. But I had a great friend. I had fun vacations with her and her family and at the time I thought we would be friends forever. Now I have no idea where she lives or how her life is turning out. I loved spending summers with her and I always felt accepted by her, but it's sad to me that those friendships from our youth never really last. I want to make sure that when I do have a child, I make sure that I let her/him know that the friendships of their youth will not make or break their future friendships or loves. Granted, I will fondly remember the times I spent with said friend and that friendship probably helped in developing me as a person, but in the end, we ended up not being "bosom buddies"- we ended up with separate lives and separate goals. As a kid I pictured growing old on rocking chairs with this person. I wrote in my Anne of Green Gables Journal about our adventures all the time. I couldn't believe that someone could want to spend day after day with me... I guess when you're a kid, you think these moments are the biggest in the world. In my little kid world, these days were the best... Being nostalgic and all, I found the Anne movies online and ordered them. I remember watching them for hours after getting out of the river bundled up under blankets. I just got the movies in the mail. I can't wait to spend ten and a half hours watching these movies and remembering these times...

The point is, as a kid, you think that every little thing that happens to you matters and is life changing, but looking back as an adult, you realize that none of it really mattered and that the only thing that matters is your family and how you view yourself. It doesn't matter if you're the pretty girl or the goth girl. It doesn't matter if you're a cheerleader or a band geek, what matters is that you take the time to figure out who you are and then the friendships you make will be the lasting ones. When you're still figuring yourself out and finding yourself, those friendships won't matter in the end. My best friends are the people that I never expected. One has been a constant friend since elementary school, but we always had other friends who we might have spent more time with. But we always knew that we could depend on each other. The other is one that I met in middle school, but even in high school, I never thought that we'd be best buds. She didn't think it either. Isn't it crazy how changes in life can change friendships and change your path? She taught me the art of sarcasm. Something my hubby is really thankful for. Really. No, not really. I love these girls. But no one compares to my mother...

My hubby (who is my newest best friend) can't understand why I never went through a rebellious stage against my mom. He says that every girl rebels against their mom at some point or another. I guess I'm strange then. I've always loved my mom and I was always thankful for her sacrifices and love. She's always understood me and gave me the freedom to figure out who I was and where I wanted to go. I never felt anything but love for her my whole life. I guess I'm a strange one hubby, but then again, you married me, so what does that make you? Huh? Just checking...

So I'm back to the blogging world. After working too hard, taking lots of time on the couch to do absolutely nothing, writing for things other than the blog, working out like a fiend, and being a wife and puppy mother, I'm happy to be back writing. I hope I don't disappoint again. But there are just somethings more important than blogging that are just too hard to resist...

I Love My Mom, BUT We're at War...

I've had a pretty great day off so far. I woke up, way too early, to go to my last pilates session and then I tried to lay on the couch. I tried to come home and cuddle with my hubby who I thought would still be sleeping, but he tricked me! He was already up. So I made him get back in bed so I could cuddle up next to him for a little bit. Yup, spoiled. Then I tried really hard to fall asleep on the couch while he got ready for work, but every bone in my body said, "it's nice out, go enjoy the weather, call mom, call mom, call mom..." So I listened to that little voice in my head. Why?! I don't know. I called my mom after hubby left for work and asked her if she wanted to go for a walk. She was more than willing (even though I later found out, she really wanted a couch day too...) I knew if I didn't call her, I would have laid here until I got up off the couch for my core strength training tonight. I know what you're thinking, "What's wrong with you? All this exercising, are you crazy?!" Well the short answer is, yes I'm crazy. But the longer and more boring answer is that I have to do this. If I don't continue these workouts and stick to a real schedule, then I'll start to get really lazy, and I'll start that slow climb back up the scale, which is something I really don't want to do. Ever again.

So why am I at war with mom? No, it's not because she helps to push me to go for walks. In fact we both push each other because neither of us like going at it alone. I love my walks with my mom. It's how we bond. It's when we talk about the past and our futures. I love our walks and she better be doing it with me until she's eighty! That's right mom, eighty! So why am I at war with her? I'm at war at her because of roosters... That's right, roosters. Lots and lots of roosters.

Explain you say? Sure.

It all started years back when my mom moved out of the house we grew up in. In this house, we had an orange kitchen. A very orange kitchen. My brother and I clearly remember that this orange kitchen also contained roosters. She's in denial. She swears that this kitchen, although orange, never had roosters. We know better. Or at least what may not have been true then, is true now. I, being a loving daughter, tried to help her with her love for roosters, so I bought her a rooster for some holiday. Sadly, I can't remember which holiday or what year this mess all started. She screamed in terror when she opened said rooster present and denied up and down that she ever owned or liked roosters! "But mommy," I said, "I'm just trying to help you with your love for roosters and help you remember that lovely orange kitchen!" (this conversation went something like that) And then she, in all her rage, (ha ha) said, "you little brats, I don't like roosters!" Ouch! My present was unloved and treated like a red-headed stepchild. My poor rooster present was pushed to the side. This meant war! I decided then and there that I, being the loving daughter that I am of course, would help my mom to remember the roosters and remember the orange kitchen! I would make it my goal to buy her a rooster for every possible holiday until she told me that she remembered all those lovely memories in our orange kitchen... But then the wrench was thrown into my little machine: mom decided that she, in her infinite wisdom, would now buy ME roosters for my new home. Ohhhh, evil mother, evil, evil mother! Again, War was declared. But, by both sides!

Here is my collection of rooster paraphernalia from my loving mother...

So, even though I love my mother, she likes to slip little rooster presents into my home when I'm not looking. The problem is, my brothers sometime join in her little venture. It used to be my brother and I against mom, but now I've been hearing through the grapevine that he likes to look for roosters to stash in MY home. Oh, how dare you brother, how dare you!? You are no longer safe.

My last rooster present was snuck into one of my kitchen drawers. Sadly, for my mother, her little surprise was ruined because I needed something in the drawer before she left! She laughed and laughed. I thought our battles were over. Oh, touche mother, touche!

We've tried to make peace. I've tried to say that I will no longer buy roosters for her. Granted, the quality of my rooster presents far exceed her store finds, and yet she still hides them and refuses to let them enjoy the spotlight in her new non-orange kitchen. A beautiful rooster cookie jar, a mother hen plate, one of those spoons to put your smaller spoons on, and a lovely alarm clock that actually cockadoodledos when it's time to get up! How great are these presents?! Oh, she just doesn't see quality gifts now does she! I'll have to photograph her amazing collection... One day she'll realize that she just can't win. After the rooster alarm clock, how could I ever be topped! Game on Mother. Game on.

Did You Know...

I'm not sure if you know this, it's kind of one of those best kept secrets, but I'm willing to let it out now... I'm a princess. Yup, that's right, a princess. You see, the thing is, my mom always told me to find a man who would treat me like a princess. I think the only word I picked up from those conversations was "princess." I never got the full picture when I was younger, but now, I understand. To my hubby, I'm a princess. I'm not sure if he knew it from the beginning, but he sure figured it out. I tried to keep it a secret. But over and over again, he shows me that he knows that I'm the most special person in the world. It's kind of amazing. You see, as a child you wait for your prince charming, your knight in shining armor, the frog to sweep you off your feet and then magically turn into a prince. You know, all those great fairy tales we grew up with... the thing is, I actually have found my prince charming. No one else knew he was a prince, they actually might have considered him the frog that would never turn into the prince, but not me, I knew from go that he was riding in on his white horse and just hiding his crown. I guess we're each others fairy tales come true. Isn't that just a great idea? Doesn't true love just make you swoon?

So why all the gushing over the hubby? (Not like this is unusual, but hey...)

I would do anything for my hubby and I know, and he has proved, that he will do anything for me. Case in point: our new puppy. Hubby has told me for years that he would not get a "little rat dog" (a maltese) and that he needed a manly dog, a German Shepherd, but sadly I'm allergic to almost all dogs and we both have hectic schedules, so a German Shepherd was out of the picture.

On Sunday my hubby came to my job to tell me that he bought me an "early graduation present." I had no clue what it could be and then he showed me a picture on his phone of a beautiful little puppy. And it is a maltese!

She's a little baby now so we can't take her home yet, but in a few weeks we'll welcome Luna into our little family. Now how can I not be a princess? In my world, dreams really have come true. Now I just need to start dreaming about the lottery...

It's About Time...

So our bathroom is finally done. That's right, the weekend project that turned into a five-week project, is finally over. And I couldn't be happier! I have to say, it's been done for about a week or more, but I've been enjoying it so much, I haven't even thought about showing it off.

The bathtub is a dream. After a long workout I can put some epsom salts in the tub, turn the jets on, and soak my tired body. I love that feeling. The warmth and the pressure from the jets it just amazing. Now I know why athletes soak their bodies after a long workout. Granted, I'm far from an athlete, but this body is tired from the workouts. The tub is just a great escape from the world. After a long day or before a long day, my bathroom has become my sanctuary, my little nook that is just like paradise.

The color I picked for the bathroom is perfect. I love it. The hubby hates it. But he keeps his opinion to himself— most of the time. I'm lucky that he lets me do what I want when it comes to decorating our home. We finally found a painter that is amazing and I'm definitely going to have him paint the other rooms in the house that still need painting. About a year ago, we had another painter do our hallway because it has unreachably high ceilings; he was horrible and had to come back to touch up, and it still looks crappy! I'm going to have the new guy repaint it and change the color because the first one wasn't what I expected.

We painted four of the rooms in the house on our own, with the help of great family, but now we'd rather have someone else do it. Hey, we're helping the economy right? At least that's what I tell myself when I think of the back pain that I get from doing it ourselves! When the painter was finished I said to him, "Ohhhh, I love it, and the husband is going to hate it, but I love it!" Everyone else likes it. At least they tell me they do. You know how people are. I've changed the mirror and we have up a new wooden blind. The room feels like my own little spa retreat. I couldn't be happier. I wish I had some before and afters, but all I've got is the afters.

Yeah for the "New" Bathroom!

Love This Blind Instead of the Crappy Curtains

Our New Mirror Changes the Whole Feel

The Faucets that Took Three Tries to get Right!

What do you think?

Spring Is In the Air...

Can you feel it? I can.

At least I know there is some sunlight at the end of this gloomy tunnel that is yet another rainy day.

I know it's spring because I've just painted my toenails for the first time since our wedding day. I'm also shaving my legs more than once a week. What can I say, during the cold months I need that extra layer! My poor hubby. Lucky him, I can smell spring in the air and I can feel it when the sun shines on my face, so I'm starting to prepare showing off the legs. Even if their whiteness blinds people.

I know that this rain is hopefully going to bring flowers instead of changing into snow. I'm looking forward to trying my hand at planting some flowers into my planters outside again. Granted, the result will still be the same and they'll be dead in a week, but at least I'll feel like I accomplished something when I first get my hands dirty.

I'm opening the curtains again and looking for spring dresses. I'm going for walks or at least planning for those walks once this weather finally breaks. I just love the smell of rain, but I wouldn't mind trading it for the smell of some sunshine and the smell of fresh cut grass. Even though that smell drives my allergies crazy. I'm willing to make the sacrifice in order to see some green earth and some blue skies.

Right now I might want to crawl into my chaise lounge and snuggle up with my robe; that's right a robe, not a snuggie! Don't people realize that snuggies are just robes put on backwards? Yup, some 25 year-old made millions off of people not noticing that they were just backwards robes. I wish I thought that little of people and made millions off of the idea first! Maybe next time.

But I can feel spring coming. Here are my new sandals to celebrate the occasion, even though I will still be sporting my Uggs until the weather breaks 70*...

And here's my new handbag from Target. I definitely spent more on it then I usually like to spend on bags, but then again $30 isn't that much for a bag this cute. It's like a little burst of sunshine!

Here I am spring, just waiting for you to catch up with my mind and my heart because both are feeling quite springy.