Hope

After listening to Biden and Obama's speeches the past couple of nights, I'm actually filled with hope for this country for the first time in a very long time.

GOBAMA!!!!

Alert! First Catwoman sighting in the Hills

Today was my first day back to work after a long, leisure filled summer vacation (yeah, right, if you can call packing, moving, and unpacking leisurely). During my 15 minute, new and improved commute, I stopped at my corner Starbucks for a non-fat venti iced chai to make my day-long inservice about the new social studies curriculum a bit easier to swallow. I was standing in line when the woman in front of me turned around. I glanced up from my wallet and had my first face to face encounter with a bonafied Catwoman. You know, a woman who feels compelled to say to her plastic surgeon "Please, make me look like this!" as she points excitedly to a box of Meow Mix. This phenomenon is deserving of a WTF? WTFingF? "Go ahead," she purred, rubbing her head against my leg (okay, I made that last part up).

Apparently, this is some sort of plastic surgery reserved only for the very rich, older woman who thinks that having her face sculpted into feline form (save the whiskers) will make her look young and beautiful. I IMHO believe that it makes them look freakish, Michael Jackson-like, and like they are about to bolt off after a mouse at the drop of a hat. Unfortunately, I'm sure that this sighting is only the first of many in the new 'hood. Next thing I know, I'll be greeted by a chorus of "Memory" in the milk aisle at the local Krogo, or be hissed at for taking too long in the litter box, I mean, bathroom stall at Neiman's.

Lily Poo Poo!

Lily's at the age where she's starting to announce to anyone within earshot that she's about to poo poo. "Lily poo poo!" she exclaims, just before her face turns beet red in fierce concentration as she poops in her diaper. She also brings us various baby dolls numerous times daily saying "baby poo poo" and wants us to change their diapers. She talks about Mommy's poo poo and Daddy's poo poo (lovely). Being the outstanding mother that I am, as soon as this behavior started I immediately ran out to Tarjay and purchased the following items, convinced that my smart-as-a-whip daughter would certainly be potty trained in no time:

1)An Elmo potty seat
2)An Elmo book all about using the potty complete with uber-annoying sound buttons of Elmo screaming "Elmo can use the potty!", "Horray!", and toilets flushing.

Unfortunately, they did not sell compliant 19 month olds who can poo poo on command while sitting on said potty seat while reading said uber-annoying potty book. Lily of course is obsessed with her potty seat and potty book (no doubt because of her Sesa addiction) and wants to sit on the potty and press those little sound buttons hundreds of times each day, but has yet to poo poo anywhere but in her diaper. Of course, I'll keep all of my loyal readers updated on the Lily Poo Poo situation, as I'm sure you're all on the edge of your (toilet) seats waiting with baited breath for that first milestone poo poo in the potty.

We're Heeeeere!

Alright, so now we officially live in The Hills. We've been unpacking since Friday with no end in sight. Gotta love it. I'll post pics after the plethora of cardboard has disappeared.

Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!

We just sold our house. We're homeless for the moment. The guy who bought our house is very nice--makes me feel better that the place we've called home for the last 5 years isn't going to be inhabited by a jackass. Okay, back to packing.

The Heat is On, The Heat is Ah-On. The Heat is....On.

T minus 4 days and counting till the move. Crazy. For the past two weekends, Husband and I have been sorting through spices with expiration dates of 2003, hauling car-loads of stuff to the recycle center, and generally being in awe of the total amount of crapola we have accumulated. I mean, really, does Husband need 20 old socks and 15 old boxers to use as rags? Am I really going to read all 300 pounds of wedding magazines ever again? For the love.

So in between packing, we've been trying to cram in every bit of A2 that we can before we move. We went to Zola for brunch yesterday (Lily ate half of my omelet but wouldn't touch the yum waffle we ordered for her.) and then went to an awesome park that is built like a huge wooden castle maze. So fun. We got burritos from BTB, sushi from Yotsuba, and I even got my old college staple--a Chipati from Pizza House. Yum.

We've also been packing in all the time with friends that is possible, given the amount of she-ite we have to do. Last week, Lily and I had back to back to back playdates with some amazing women and their gorgeous kiddos. Friday night, we went to a going away party for a friend who gets to move somewhere much cooler than The Hills. Saturday night we hung out with our friend (and his lovely girlfriend) that may be the only one who has outlasted us in A2. We've seen so many of our friends leave over the years that it's really strange that we're now the ones who are leaving. "Are you excited?" people have asked me. Ummm, nope. While I'm excited to have my commute drop from 45 miles to 8, and to have a bigger house, and to actually have a yard, I'm not excited to live in suburbia.

Last night I asked Husband if he thought that any liberals live in The Hills. "Maybe," he said. "Hopefully...". I suggested that we put an Obama sign in our yard right after we move in and then see who still welcomes us to the neighborhood. Husband didn't think that would be a good idea, and that we might alienate some people. Oh, dear. Let's hope that we find at least a few like-minded peeps in The Hills. I promise to try to be open-minded and not assume that everyone will be plastic surgery sculpted cat-people with names like Buffy, Dick and Mitzie.

Even More Pics!

Just cause I'm trying to procrastinate and not pack, here are the latest pics of Lily, courtesy of JCPenney! I thought for sure they'd turn out like crap cause Little Miss Thang wasn't very cooperative (go figure), but I'm pleased as punch!

I'd Rather Be in Ann Arbor

What can I say about the lovely town that has been my home since 1995? I'm going to miss it immensely. There's a reason why Husband and I continued to live here and commuted 35 and 45 miles one way to work, respectively. Actually, there are many reasons why we stubbornly stayed in A2 despite my incredible loathing for spending 2 hours each day in the car. Here are a few:

1. Lifestyle: Ann Arbor is a liberal oasis. We have a liberal gay mayor, a greenbelt around the city that outlaws urban sprawl, mandatory bike lanes on all road updates/construction, a million parks and lots of crunchy, organic stores.




2. People: Living here for 13 years we've seen many friends come and go. But it seems that no matter how many friends leave, new ones are always waiting in the wings ready to go play trivia at Connor O'Neills, suck down Sangria at Dominik's, grab brunch at Zola, or meet up at Burns Park for a playdate. Then there are the infamous people that make Ann Arbor the kind of place that prompts people to say, "Only in Ann Arbor!" as their heads shake, faint smiles on their faces. Like Bra Man, for instance, who Husband and I saw a couple of summers ago, riding his bike downtown in full make-up, bra without a shirt, and a thong poking out of his jean mini-skirt. Or Shakey Jake Woods, who passed away last fall but had been an A2 icon for years, always spotted downtown with his guitar in hand, smile lighting up his face. And then there was the guy we saw this spring with dreads down to his knees. The best thing about the people of Ann Arbor is the amazing level of diversity that is concentrated in such a small city in Southeast Michigan. On our street alone we have people of African-American, Indian, Latino, Asian, Filipino, Spanish, and Serbian (of course!) descent. Pretty amazing.




3. Events: There is always something to do in Ann Arbor. There's Top of the Park, a free two week long festival with music, food, and movies every night, Art Fair (not fun if you live on South U or work downtown!), UofM football games at the Big House, Taste of Ann Arbor, a car show, the Kerrytown Farmer's Market, FestiFools (a parade with huge puppets made by UofM art students), Oktoberfest and countless other things that draw huge crowds downtown.




4. Kids' Stuff: Toddler pools, countless parks, Urban Toddler, Jungle Java, The Hands on Museum, the library, Kindermusik. Lily is really going to miss going "Weee!" and to the "Oct-pus" (her name for the pool) in A2.





5. Soccer: I play soccer 2-4 nights each week, year round in Ann Arbor. The Ann Arbor Soccer Association is my outdoor soccer league April through October, and then WideWorld sports complex hosts my indoor teams for the rest of the year. I've not only played, but have been really involved in organizing the teams on which I play. Its going to be very hard to find such great peeps to play with in Metro Detroit!




6. Biking: Husband is already mourning the loss of some of his favorite bike routes in A2 and the surrounding areas. Maybe he'll decide to spend a little less time on the saddle and more time with his needy wifey when we move??? Yeah, right. I'm sure he's already pouring over our new County maps, highlighter in hand, plotting his next 100 mile adventure. He'll definitely miss the bike lanes, though. Let's hope he doesn't get run off the road by the Land Rovers, H2s, Beemers, and Benzes in our new hood.



7. Restaurants: This is a typical conversation between me and Husband on a Friday night..."Where should we go to eat?" Husband asks. I say, "Let's see, we have Zingerman's, Zingerman's Roadhouse, Eve, Pacific Rim, Zola, Palio, Upstairs Palio, Gratzi, Yotsuba, Godiako, Prickly Pear, Zanzibar, Middle Kingdom, Habana, Shalimar, The Earle, Gandy Dancer, Casey's, Amadeus, ABC, Grizzly Peak's, Great Lakes, Tuptim Thai, Siam Square, La Shish, Chop House, Felix...[Pause for breath] Sabor Latino, Bella Ciao,". You get the idea. Man, we're going to miss the food in A2. Our bank account will be happy though!



8. UofM: This is where I went to school for 6 years, and Husband almost as long (although I got 2 degrees and he only got 1! Hahahaha!) There's nothing better than living in a college town. Not only do we get to laugh at all the drunken college kids playing Beer Pong on Packard on our drive home from downtown, but we also get to take advantage of lots of stuff an amazing University has to offer. For example, I took a class at the School of Social Work this summer (as an aside, I don't know how students are able to pass any classes when they sit there clacking away on their laptops messaging their friends on facebook. The best diversion I had as a student was the crossword in The Michigan Daily.)




Yep, it'll royally suck to leave Ann Arbor. Watch for a post in the coming weeks about what its like to live in The Hills (speaking of royal suckage).

Bloody Hell!

Husband and I have now been together for 10 years. We met in 1998 at UofM. Unbeknownst to either of us, we lived next door to one another on South U for nearly a year before we met. One night my housemates and I threw a party, Future Husband crashed said party on his way home from the bar. We were both wasted and ended up talking for over an hour on the front porch (I always tell him it was a good thing I was wasted cause otherwise I would have told him to beat it). A few weeks later, one of my roommates invited Future Husband to come out with us for my 21st birthday. Future Husband accepted the invite and showed up at my house at 11pm on July 30th, 1998. At midnight, we hit Mitch's, by last call I was wasted again and Future Husband ended up spending the night. The rest is history. It never should have worked, but here we are, proof that drunken hook-ups and putting out on the first date sometimes pays off.

Lots has happened in the past 10 years. We've both earned Masters degrees, gotten jobs, bought (and sold, hopefully!) houses, and have an amazing daughter. We're pretty damn happy and successful. The picture of perfection. In the past few months, however, it seems that Husband has a little secret. A dark side, if you will. Its come to my attention that Husband has adopted a new idol. And its not Lance Armstrong. Husband's new role model is a serial killer that kills serial killers named Dexter.

It all started when our friend Ana recommended we watch Dexter, a Showtime series that she was hooked on. Here's the premise from the Showtime website:

He'll charm fellow officers with a doughnut, wile away a Sunday with his girlfriend Rita, or chop up a victim and package their body parts in plastic bags. Hiding beneath the mundane exterior and contrived façade of Dexter, a charming blood spatter expert for the Miami Police Department, is an obsession with meting his own twisted brand of justice: stalking and murdering the guilty.

We cued up our Netflix with the first two disks and the next thing we knew, we were hooked as well. We watched the entire first season in a little over two weeks. Then, because we couldn't wait, we ordered Showtime and watched season two On Demand. Now, don't get me wrong, I love the show, too, but I started to become concerned when Husband started talking about Dexter non-stop. How cool Dexter was. How likable Dexter was. Dexter this, Dexter that. He even suggested that we name our future son (if we have a son someday) Dexter Morgan Ehmann. Ummmm...I kinda think it wouldn't be a good idea to name our son after a serial killer character, hunny. The fatal blow came when I woke up one morning and Husband was whining that he had been up all night. When I asked him why he mumbled something about thinking and worrying. Work? I asked. Nope. Biking? Nope. Husband was worried about Dexter. After a particularly gut-wrenching episode, Dexter had gotten himself into a sticky wicket and it looked as though he may get caught. Husband was so worried that Dexter would be apprehended by Johnnylongarmofthelaw that he stayed up all night, his mind racing with possible ways Dexter could get out of the jam, unscathed.

So does it worry me that Husband is idolizing a serial killer? Do I think that its the beginning of a mid-life crisis at 35? Do I wonder if he's really going on training rides and not hunting serial killers whom he will then serial kill? I don't know. But after 10 years of being together and 4 years of marriage if the worst Husband is doing is fantasizing about slicing "deserving" people's throats and living a double life like Dexter then so be it. It could be worse...he could be a Republican.