Change We Can Believe In

Obama officially became the first African American presidential nominee for a major political party, giving his acceptance speech on the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.'s
"I Have a Dream" speech.

"I get it. I realize that I am not the likeliest candidate for this office. I
don’t fit the typical pedigree, and I haven’t spent my career in the halls of
Washington.

But I stand before you tonight because all across America something is stirring.
What the nay-sayers don’t understand is that this election has never been about
me. It’s been about you.

For eighteen long months, you have stood up, one by one, and said enough to the
politics of the past. You understand that in this election, the greatest risk
we can take is to try the same old politics with the same old players and expect
a different result. You have shown what history teaches us - that at defining
moments like this one, the change we need doesn’t come from Washington. Change
comes to Washington. Change happens because the American people demand it -
because they rise up and insist on new ideas and new leadership, a new politics
for a new time.

America, this is one of those moments."
Barack Obama

Partying with Lindsay Lohan

On Saturday night, we were invited to The Park, one of DC's hottest clubs of the moment. I use the word invited because to my surprise, in order to get in, you have to be invited (on the list) or hold the much coveted VIP card. Okay.... But as we walked in, passing one beautiful bouncer boy after another, hostesses that looked like super models, plus the bartenders with minimal clothing and the interior - four floors of ultra modern decor, with views overlooking Franklin Square, I knew we were in for a treat. We started off with a group shot, The Lindsay Lohan. The ingredients - a Red Headed Slut with Coke. Love it! So much that we continued partying with Lindsay the entire night. The music was a perfect blend of electro and hip hop. G danced at The Park more than he did at our wedding! For our first club experience in DC, we struck gold.

Mama's Bread Pudding

One of my fondest childhood memories, is running through the house with a square of my Mom's bread pudding in hand, savoring each bite. And if I was really good, I could have a square for breakfast! As an adult, I have tried a lot of different varieties of bread pudding, homemade and in restaurants, but not one has measured up to my Mom's. Before we left for Virginia, my Mom made her bread pudding for G for the first time. She served it straight from the oven with caramel sauce. He loved it. So much that I promised him I would ask her for the recipe so that I could try to bake it. Well, she finally told me the ingredients, the old school way - with no exact measurements. I knew I wouldn't be able to duplicate hers so I added apples to my version and guess what? It turned out awesome! I served my bread pudding after it had cooled, the way my Mom used to serve it to me. And because G was good, I let him have a square for breakfast.

The Good, The Bad & The Maggots

On Saturday morning, we decided to spend the afternoon at the Leesburg Corner Premium Outlets. We both have heard about the great deals you can find on high quality clothes from a lot of people who live here. Not your typical outlet mall stuff. So, in anticipation of a long afternoon shopping, I decided to make blueberry pancakes for breakfast - shopping fuel for the body. And when I cracked open the first egg in the pancake mix, I saw that my egg had 2 yolks. Twins. Isn't that supposed to be good luck? We decided it was and it was a sign that we would find amazing deals that afternoon.

So after 5 hours of shopping, it's official - I am a fan. My favorite outlet stores were Juicy, BCBG (I seriously started clapping my hands and squealing when I saw the racks of summer dresses on sale), Puma, and Off 5th. These stores really have an excellent selection with huge discounts. And out of all of our purchases, G found the coolest deal. Check out the silver Pumas.

G is well aware of the fashion faux pas of wearing mismatch athletic logos. He just refuses to accept it.

We couldn't go home empty handed, without a present for Denzel, so we stopped at Petco to grab a new Kong toy. We decided to buy the Dental Stick with the Stuff'n Tots treats. When we got home and opened the Stuff'n Tots container, we saw that it was infested with tiny dead flies and maggots. There was also some kind of spider web film on the inside. WTF? G immediately went online and wrote the Kong company a nasty e-mail. And then we discovered some of the maggots weren't even dead.....when we saw them crawling out of the container onto our kitchen counter. GROSS! We sent photos along with that e-mail. We can't wait to hear their response.

On Sunday night, we joined KT and her fiance for dinner, at Konami. We had a hilarious time talking about weddings and marriage. She and her fiance are both divorced so their perspective is a little different than ours. But hey, they are ready for round two! The sushi was......interesting. You know how when you take a bite of something and once it hits your taste buds, you instantly know something is off? I got that feeling with the first bite of a spider roll. And my suspicions were confirmed by a night of tossing and turning and a full day with a queasy stomach and no appetite. G had some stomach issues too. That was our first and last dinner there.

Summer Clearance Sale

I bought this tank top at Hot Topic for $9. I figured I can always use a
black tank, I like rainbows and what they stand for - peace, gay pride and racial diversity, and for the price, it's a bargain even if I just sleep in it. What do you think it means?

Signs

We had a funny conversation with some friends, over dinner at Big Bowl recently. We were talking about when you say or do certain things and suddenly you realize that those are the telltale signs that you are getting old. For example, when we were in Virginia Beach, there was a little boy, he had to be under 5 years old, walking down the beach alone, looking around like he was lost. As soon he passed us, I called out to him, "Are you lost, Sweetie? Who are you looking for?" The little boy looked at me like I was a weirdo and said no, that he wasn't lost, he was looking for his family. He knew they were lying next to a blue umbrella. End of story, right? No. I didn't believe him. First of all, what parent in their right mind, would allow a 5 year old to walk around Virginia Beach alone? And second, there had to be a hundred blue umbrellas in that area. So I got up and followed him, a little ways behind because it was obvious he was afraid of me, just to make sure he was ok. G laughed and called me a paranoid Grandma because I didn't take the little boy's word that he was fine. And to prove G right, of course after walking down the beach for about 5 minutes, he did meet up with his parents. A little embarrassed, I turned around and walked back to our spot, thinking...Oh my gosh, I am getting old. That was something my Mom would have done! But last week, it was G's turn. For three nights in a row, we had to listen to the teenagers next door, party all night. I'm talking constant blaring music, yelling and laughing, pounding the walls, and screaming down the hallways. By the third night, G had had enough. He walks over and knocks on the door. When they finally open up, he puts his hand on his hips and uses his Terminator voice and says, "You are getting on my nerves. This is the third night of partying. If you don't be quiet I will call the police. Don't make me come here again. Goodbye." The teenagers were silent. And then they apologized. I couldn't believe it. G comes home with a big smile on his face and we get ready for bed. About 10 minutes later, as we are standing in our kitchen, we can hear all of them leaving and walking to the elevators. End of story, right? No. Someone yells, "I f***ing love you Sarah!!!!!" This pushes G over the edge. He swings open the door, boxer shorts and all, and screams at the top of his lungs. He completely cussed out the kids standing at the elevator. He instantly transformed from the Terminator to Andrew Dice Clay (here is another sign of old age, making references to celebrities who were popular 15 years ago). I wish I could have taken a picture - G in his underwear screaming and the teenagers with looks of horror on their faces. Priceless. We haven't had any problems since. No parties on this floor. Yup, Grandpa totally showed those kids who's boss.

Puggle Luvin!

Today, Denzel had a play date with his 5 month old girlfriend, Cashmere.

She's a Puggle too!
They ran.
They played.
They argued.
Good times.

Married For Life

Is it a real possibility or just a great concept?

Will we end up like my grandparents, still deeply in love in our 80's or like my parents, divorced and bitter in our 30's? Over the years, will we start to develop cute nicknames for each other, like My Brown Eyed Girl and The Ice Cream Man or will we start to call each other names, like Arschloch and Dumme Kuh? Are we really committed to making this marriage work - no matter what - come what may, for fatter or thinner, from bad weaves to baldness, from shopping sprees to counting every penny, my food fads and your obsession with electrical equipment, from making love daily to not making love at all, from being Denzel's parents to being grandparents
....until death (not lawyers) do us part?

G and I said yes and we believe being married for life is a real possibility IF you are realistic. For example, we understand that it is inevitable that we will get on each other's nerves, every single day. We can't help it. We both have strong personalities and opinions. Individually, we are both the type of person you instantly love or you can't stand after five minutes. And we are very vocal and sometimes, brutally honest with each other. So, with that said, we've decided to be realistic in our marriage. We accept that we will always do things to get on each other's nerves. It is what it is. But instead of constantly complaining about the same things over and over again, we've discovered a way to tolerate each other's pet peeves. We are using Rubber Band Therapy. Every day, I wear a single rubber band on my wrist. And every time G does something to get under my skin, and I want to complain about it, I snap the rubber band instead of complaining. That snap prevents me from complaining or starting an argument over some small but annoying behavior. G wears one as well. The snapping works in reverse too. Like when G comes home from a run and puts his dirty shoes on the bathroom sink to clean them. When I snap my rubber band, he thinks about why I'm snapping it and realizes that behavior is getting on my nerves and he removes the shoes. Or when we are watching tv together and G wants me to turn the channel and I say, "Give me 5 minutes." because I want to finish watching Wife Swap (a show I know he hates) and then 20 minutes later, I hear that snap and I realize that I'm pushing the limit so I change the channel. It's pretty cool. We've been using Rubber Band Therapy for almost 2 weeks and we both agree that it's working. Those annoying pet peeves are disappearing slowly but surely. And I already know what you're thinking. Do I seriously think Rubber Band Therapy will save us from ever arguing? No. Do we think Rubber Band Therapy will keep us madly in love with each other for 40 years? Nope. Will Rubber Band Therapy save us from divorce? Not a chance. But at the very least, it shows us that we are both willing to work on sustaining our marriage and willing to try a silly little exercise like Rubber Band Therapy, just to make each other happy. And that willingness alone, makes us love each other more every day.

We're on our way, Grandma F. I love you.

Denzel's New Hiding Spot

Me & My Big Mouth

Last week, as I was taking Denzel out for his afternoon walk, I met a very nice man in the elevator. On the way down, we discovered that we are neighbors, we live on the same floor. He was extremely friendly but the most memorable thing about him was his body. He was in awesome shape. I'm talking tanned, toned and tight. Everywhere. He was very lean but with the perfect amount of muscles. I didn't have to ask. I knew he worked out. So, a couple of days later, G came home from the gym in our building and mentioned meeting a man who was very knowledgeable about weight training. G said the man was so friendly and cool that they ended up working out together. G also commented on the man's body and said that to his shock, the man told him that he had just turned 50. G said, "I want to know everything he's doing because I want to look like that at 50. He's amazing!" They also talked about their mutual love of biking and about hooking up one weekend to go biking in Georgetown. G's all about the biking - he's one of those guys I used to make fun of - decked out in the super tight colorful Specialized outfit, the matching helmet, the muddy shoes, and dripping with sweat. In all fairness, I guess it really is a good work out. So fast forward to Sunday. As we were heading out with Denzel, the same man that I met last week comes out of the elevator. He says hello to G, using his first name. Huh? It turns out, he's the same man that G worked out with. He introduces his girlfriend, who is also tanned, toned, and tight. But aside from their intimidating bodies, they both seemed naturally friendly and talkative. I thought to myself, it's nice that G has found a potential work out buddy/mentor. And then the man points at me and says, "And we were talking about you! We are going to get you out biking sooner or later. And you are gonna love it!" Right. I politely admit that I don't really work out (translation - never) and I don't ride. It's G's thing. That comment goes right over his head. He just goes on to explain how he and his girlfriend go biking every Sunday in the city and usually, they make a day of riding and having lunch. Then he says, "Well, why don't we all go riding together? We could show you the ropes." At this point, my fake American personality emerges. I say, "Sure, that would be great. Maybe we should do that...some time." Now, G has been completely silent during this exchange because he knows me. He knows I will never willingly bike through Georgetown. Shop in Georgetown, yes. Have lunch in Georgetown, yes. Have cocktails in Georgetown, absolutely. But bike? No thank you. And G also knows that I don't have bike. That was my trump card. So G is just standing there, smiling, knowing that his wife is totally bullsh**ing. Well, then the man says, "Ok. Let's do it! How about this Sunday? And I know you don't have a bike. So you can use mine. I have an extra one." And then there was silence. My face was frozen. Their faces still smiling, waiting for my answer. And G's face, trying not to bust out laughing. I didn't know what to say. So I said, "Sure! Let's do it!" I know. Can you believe that? What is wrong with me? It's just that the man and his girlfriend (we've decided to call them Arnold and Maria) were so excited and happy to go riding, I couldn't squash the moment. And I know G wanted to go. I didn't want to be the fat lazy girl who ruined Sunday plans. So we are set to meet this Sunday for the ride. G just shook his head when we got in the elevator. Then he said, "What are you gonna do? I can't wait to see how you are going to get out of this one!" Scheiße.

Little Red RS 4

Friday afternoon, G came home in a candy apple red convertible Audi RS 4. He said he thought we should "tour the area". I was game. And let me tell you, getting to know the neighborhood with the sun on my face, the wind blowing through my curls, and a Blue Raspberry Slurpee by my side, was a pretty cool way to tour.