a new sort of christmas

happy belated holidays - hope they were full of laughter, good food and perfect presents. my 33rd Christmas on this planet was a bit of an adventure, but a thoroughly wonderful one.


in all our years together, Michael and i have never celebrated Christmas in the same place. often it was because of his work schedule, but this year it worked out that he was off both Christmas Eve and Christmas day - quite convenient since this year we really had to celebrate together, being engaged and all.


Christmas Eve was supposed to involve making a brief jaunt to New Jersey to see my aunt, uncle and parents before heading back to Brooklyn. i'd never been in the city on Christmas Eve before and seriously miscalculated how much traffic there would be. it took us an hour just to get to the entrance of the Holland Tunnel (it normally takes us less than a quarter of that time). it became painfully clear as we sat in a nightmare of a traffic jam on Hudson Street that going to New Jersey just wasn't logical or sensible.


i was still in a frazzled, somewhat delicate state and found myself in tears over the change in plans. pretty ridiculous for an adult who's getting married next year, but that's what happened. it wasn't so much that i wasn't going to see my family on Christmas Eve as it was the pressure of trying to squeeze too many obligations into too small a time frame.


but i snapped out of it. (a nice, long hug from my fiance did the trick.) and Christmas Eve wound up being a blast. it was my first time spending the holiday at Michael's grandparents' and it lived up to the hype. there was an endless supply of food, bottle after bottle of wine and champagne, tons of people i love... and the money box.

i'm not sure how many years ago it started, but Michael's grandfather - i call him Grandpa Angelo - created a new Christmas tradition called the money box. it's so simple and yet spectacular - just a festively-wrapped cardboard box with a square hole cut out of the lid. and inside the box? lots and lots of cash.

the rules are: each grandkid lines up, youngest to oldest, and take turns pulling one bill out of the box. there are ones and fives and tens and twenties in there. you keep taking turns until the box is empty.

i was toward the end of the line, old fart that i am, yet my placement proved to be lucky. i did not pull a single single out of the box. every pluck i made was a five or a ten or a twenty. i made seventy-five bucks! merry Christmas indeed!

in all honesty, that was a high point, but what made the evening so special was finally being there with Michael. it took us long enough to start sharing holidays, but it was worth the wait. on Christmas day, after we opened presents together that morning in my place, we had breakfast at his mom's and then hit the road. we spent an hour with my Gram, who was sweet and adorable, and then made our way to PA for more presents, lots of food and a spirited Scrabble match.

all in all, it was a hectic two days but i loved it all.

mb

'tis the season... to wish for it to be january already

Michael and i were talking the other day about how when we were kids, December seemed to crawl. waiting for Christmas Eve was like waiting for Godot. there was plenty to fill the month—like my birthday, various Christmas concerts at school, shopping with my dad, cookie-baking, Grinch and Charlie Brown viewings, etc.—but yet December dragged and dragged. i distinctly remember thinking, at various times in my childhood, "Christmas will never get here." 

at age thirty-two, a few days before Christmas, my thoughts are more along the lines of, "where the hell did the month go?" it's craziness on fast-forward. i just finished a three-day weekend, and i don't feel the least bit refreshed. i do it to myself, i realize. i try to do too much and my inner perfectionist is in a rabid state.  

for example, yesterday was my bake-a-thon and i made six different kinds of cookies (which was disappointing to me, but i just didn't have the energy to do more). in addition to the chocolate chip and sugar cookie mainstays, i decided to try a Martha Stewart recipe for chocolate pretzels—basically, chocolate cookie dough twisted into the shape of a pretzel. 

problem was, once i finished rolling out the dough and making my little pretzel shapes, it looked like i had a tray full of dog poo. it was the shade of brown and the texture and the way it was twisted into that pile-like shape... gross. and, sadly, baking the cookies for 35 minutes didn't help alter its appearance. once they cooled, i tried one and it didn't even taste that great. so i'm trashing them and baking something else tonight because i refuse to include poo pretzels in my cookie gifts this year.

i took a personal day Friday to go shopping on Long Island with Michael (yes, in the snow storm). we had a great time—and i satisfied my intense Johnny Rockets craving via a big greasy cheeseburger and side of fries—until we started shopping for his sisters. god knows i love him, but he's pretty helpless when it comes to shopping for anything for anyone else (aka, a typical man). we wandered around Urban Outfitters for 20 minutes picking up things and putting them back down, finding nothing suitable. 

my telling him, "well they're your sisters" as a means of getting him to freaking suggest something didn't help matters much. 

not long after that is when i said, "let's shop separately for a bit!" and made a beeline for Bloomingdale's, where i bought a new pair of jeans (after nearly a year of subsisting on jeans i already owned, which is a record) and my outlook on life improved greatly. and while i was doing the jean thing, Michael called his mom and got some ideas for his sisters—it all worked out A-OK.

Saturday night we went to a party in New Jersey thrown by one of Michael's co-workers. because of the weather and because it was, after all, a party at which drinks would be served, we opted to take a NJ Transit bus rather than drive. of course, neither of us had been to that town in Jersey before and had no idea where we were going. it was dark and everything was snow-covered. Michael knew we had to get off at "Union and Jefferson or Washington or some president." the only other information he had was that it was near a 7-11. 

we were like two idiots on the bus, really, peering out the window at illegible street signs, switching seats so we could see better. Michael checked the location of the stop request button about 12 times, just in case it had moved on him. we finally came to an intersection and i spotted a 7-11 so i pressed the button and the driver stopped at the corner. thank god i asked him if we were on Union, because we weren't (duh, there's a 7-11 every two blocks in New Jersey!) and we would've had a long way to walk in the snow. the driver asked where we were going and i said, "Union and Jefferson?" and he looked at me blankly. "Union and some president?" i tried, and he said, "ohh, Jackson!" and everyone else on the bus laughed at us. 

the best part was when we finally got off the bus, at Jackson, near the correct 7-11 and Michael told me the house number was 413. except... there wasn't a 413. then he said, "no, no, i'm sorry, it's 407." except... there wasn't a 407 either. i looked up and down the block and spotted a brightly lit house with a few cars out front. i said, "might it be 417?" and he said, "yes! yes, that's it!" 

(my future husband, folks.)

so, yeah. that was my three-day weekend. the good news is, there is absolutely nothing going on at work and even though i'm in the office today, the VP's assistant told us not to come in tomorrow. so i'll have a day to relax and move at a leisurely pace before Christmas Eve arrives and we're running from Brooklyn to New Jersey back to Brooklyn—and on Christmas Day, when we go from Brooklyn to New Jersey to Pennsylvania. 

my nine-year old self would've loved this, but i have to admit, i won't be the least bit bummed when January arrives. 

mb

my year in review

i was going through some old stuff the other day and found a horoscope i'd cut out of the newspaper and saved. i'm not sure when it was published, but my finding it just before 2009 begins seemed fitting. this is what it says:

"With Pluto in Sagittarius, a long trend that started in 1995 and will end in 2008, you have been in a period of transition, gradually building a life that is more "you" and less of a life that others expect of you. Every so often, take a moment to see how far you've come and make adjustments if necessary. An examined life is a better life. You don't have to live a script someone else wrote."

i graduated from high school in 1995 and thus began a huge learning curve for moi. one of the most crucial things i've learned in the mpmmmfh years since then has been to write my own story. not one i think other people will approve of or enjoy. one that makes me happy. lord knows i've stumbled and slipped backwards and done all kinds of loop-da-loops along the way, but i'm proud (and relieved) to be heading into 2009 a strong, smart, self-assured woman.

on that note - since all the news channels are doing their 2008 Year in Review shows, packed with economy woes, election highlights and Tina-Fey-as-Sarah-Palin clips, i thought i'd switch it up a bit and compile the top 10 moments of my life this year. so, in somewhat chronological order:

~ putting a roof over my head, finally

god knows it took long enough and involved many false starts, and i damn near gave up all hope of having a normal living situation again, but just in the nick of time last January i found the apartment i'd been waiting for. i'm happy to say i love it more today than i did when i first moved in.

~ the Giants winning the Super Bowl
not only was the march to victory thrilling and just plain awesome, i got to watch it with my dad (with whom i'd watched the last two Giant super bowl victories) on a kick-ass television and with lots of yelling and high-fives and jumping up and down. freaking cool, man.

- my cousin Darren's goodbye party
believe me, a huge part of me was very sad to bid my cuz goodbye last May. but it was also a wonderful occasion for two reasons. wait, three. one: i played beer pong for the first time in a long time and while i don't want to think about all the germs i consumed, it was fun in the moment. two: Darren is living in London, and i think that's incredibly cool. he made one of his goals a reality. i always applaud that. three: it was a reminder of how lucky i am and glad i am to have the relationship i do with my cousins. the older i get, the more i realize how incredibly important it is to have enduring family ties. we'll be the ones leading the pack someday, and i know we'll always have each other.

- realizing i could trust myself
this has been a work-in-progress, but i had a moment last June when i realized i was putting my heart on the line, i was speaking the utmost truth, and i wasn't scared. this is after years of being afraid of speaking up, saying too much, not believing i was strong enough to handle certain things in my life. i still have moments of self-doubt, but by and large, this year i learned how vital it is to put yourself out there and let 'er rip. only good things can follow.

- going from freelance to fulltime
granted, i still miss my freelance paychecks from time to time, but the pros of being fulltime at my job far outweigh the cons. i can work 8 to 8 or 10 to 6 and still get the same paycheck (ie, no pressure to work myself to death). i have paid vacation days. i have insurance. i don't have to send quarterly estimated payments to the IRS. and i can get the employee discount now, with my 'official' ID card.

~ drinking our way around the World

i had a few moments of hesitation when Michael and i were planning our third trip to Disney World. i wondered if we shouldn't be taking a more... mature vacation. but who was i kidding? we love it there, we laughed our tails off the week we were there in August, and we did something we'd never done before: drank our way around the World Showcase in Epcot. being tipsy gives you a whole new perspective and appreciation for that place, believe me. you haven't fully experienced Maelstrom in Norway until you've ridden it drunk.

~ watching the last game at Yankee Stadium with my dad
no, we weren't in the stands in the Bronx, watching the farewell in person. but we were together, watching on television, and it was still a magical, heart-wrenching, emotional time. there were just so many memories, so many stories, and sad as i was to say goodbye, i was very glad to share it all with my father.

~ finding out Christine is a mama-to-be
my oldest, dearest friend told me in September that she was expecting her first baby. she was my first friend, the girl i played dolls with when we were three, the closest thing i've had to a sister my whole life. to hear that she was going to have a wee one of her own put me over the moon, truly. she's due in April and i can't wait to spoil that kid. crazy Auntie Megs!

- waking up on November 5th feeling like things might actually get better now
though i was not a rabid Obama supporter all along, and though i'm still not 100 percent over Hillary losing the nomination, i was more than elated on November 4th, knowing our country finally got it right. (and, hey, after seeing those Hawaii pictures, i might become an Obama girl myself...)

- finally visiting the Empire State Building
and, you know, the question that was asked of me on the Observation Deck was pretty cool too...
(i'm smiling like an idiot as i type this.)

Happy New Year!

mb

on the next episode of As the Gym Turns...

so i went to Total Body Conditioning on Saturday morning and got there a half-hour early as usual. it was the last class David was teaching in 2008, since he's taking a much-deserved break for the holidays. you may remember the drama that went down a couple years ago regarding snagging a spot in class. it's gotten slightly better (now you can call and reserve a spot 48 hours ahead of time—if you dare call 24 hours ahead of time, as i did last week, you'll be put on the waiting list) though the gym still can't seem to get it together in terms of working out a suitable system for handling the high-demand for David's classes, as was evidenced on Saturday.

David was running a little late that morning, but it worked out well because one of the girls in class had organized a collection of cash that would be put in a Christmas card for him—a way of saying thank you for his torturing us every Saturday morning all year, a little gratitude for forcing us to do eight million push-ups but all the while keeping us laughing. (and, hey, we keep showing up every week—it must be working.)

so we were all in the locker room signing the card and handing over our few dollars before he got there. while this was going on, apparently a situation arose in the studio. i walked back in and saw the smackdown in progress. a new woman had called up and reserved a spot per the rules, but had made the mistake of showing up right at 9:15, when the class is supposed to start. anyone in the know shows up at least 15 minutes early to snag a spot, and even that's a little risky. there wasn't enough equipment to go around by that time, and this woman was having a major fit about it.

one of the gym staffers—who was making sure everyone in the class had reserved a spot—was trying to force one of the regulars (who, like me, was only on the waiting list) give up her spot to the new woman. the regular was willing to do so, albeit slightly grudgingly, but the new woman was already in a snit and insisted on mouthing off to everyone. even the ladies who tried to kindly talk her down from the ledge got an earful.

it was sort of a train wreck, and definitely tense—we all come to David's class to de-stress, so it was an unfortunate situation all around. then one of other regulars started singing, "Christmastime is heeeeeere..." a la Charlie Brown. a bunch of us cracked up and David showed up and got started with our warm up and the drama subsided. (sort of—no one had to leave the class, but the new woman made a big to-do about sharing equipment with people, didn't actually begin working out with us for about 10 minutes, and had a puss on her face the entire class.)

it bothered me—it just bugs me when miserable people feel the need to spread their misery—but all was forgotten when, toward the end of class, in the midst of many painful leg lifts, David announced that if everyone worked as hard on their butts as i do, they'd all have engagement rings, too. 

right. this is why i love David, and his class. it's why, even with the intermittent drama involved, i keep going back. 

mb

workin' hard or hardly workin'

so, yeah. i love the people i work with. 

i feel absolutely blessed to be able to say that. i hear horror stories from various people about their co-workers—backstabbers, humorless drips, slave drivers, drama queens, schemers, snoops, etc.—and i've worked with plenty of those types at previous jobs.

but my current job—my current 'work family'—is pretty awesome.

we went out last night for a little holiday shindig. of course our company-wide party was cancelled due to the economy and thankfully our VP got us out of the "mandatory" potluck event (they cancelled the free-for-employees swanky party yet tried to make us spend our own time and money feeding tons of co-workers we don't even know? gotta love HR's brilliant ideas) so our little team did our own thing at an Irish pub in midtown. 

we left the office a little before 5 o'clock and most of us didn't get home 'til midnight. we all quickly lost track of how many drinks were being consumed. we ordered a few platters of pub food and it was gone within 10 minutes (eating, let alone eating greasy food, used to feel like a sin amongst my previous co-workers—"oh, food? ew!"—so you can understand my affinity for this group). 

after the pub, the majority of us moved onto a random party thrown by the agency that represents some of our company's models. we all felt like fish out of water—hello, a model party? did you miss the part about the mass inhalation of pub food?—but it wound up being funny and fun—and free drinks! 

this morning we all rolled in at various times, all later than usual, all of us hurting a little (or a lot), but not minding so much because at least we finally got to blow off steam. since i started this job fourteen months ago, we'd been out as a group exactly twice prior to last night. we all work too hard and too long and get ourselves too exhausted to attempt a weekly happy hour or any other sort of regular socializing. but i guess what matters is that when we do go out, we do it right. 

there were some layoffs in the company last week, and considering the fact that our department is so new, we've all been a little on edge about the state of things. hopefully we'll be OK, but i thought a few times last night that if anything did happen, i would be sadder about not working with these nuts more than i would about being unemployed. 

seriously. 

mb

ludicrous

Shrek the Musical opened on Broadway last night and i just read a few reviews (not great but not bad—which, translated from snobby theatre critic speak, means it's highly entertaining). 

i was thinking maybe i'd take my cousin to see it, or maybe i'd just get tickets for myself. i actually hate this whole movie-turned-stage-show phenomenon happening in New York these days and i was prepared to add Shrek the Musical to my list of Things That Just Should Not Be, but i saw a scene performed on the Today show last week and while i was expecting to cringe with horror, i actually really enjoyed it. (that Sutton Foster gets me every time—i wanted to be just like her, back in the day.)

anyway, just for fun i went to broadway.com to look around. i clicked on a date in January and saw with my own two eyeballs that the cheapest ticket available for Shrek the Musical is $101.50. and that is for rear mezzanine. it was a frustrating reminder why i rarely go see anything on Broadway anymore. 

over a hundred bucks to sit all the way in the back of the theatre? it's seriously a joke. as good shows continue to shutter due to the economy, you'd think the greedy producers would take a minute to rethink things. it's all just so sad to me. my parents used to take me to New York a few times a year to see shows when i was younger. front row center orchestra seats were about $50. i know i sound like a crochety old fart right now, but come on. at this rate i will not only be unable to afford to take my kids to a Yankees game, they'll miss out on Broadway too. 

and i guess i'm just wondering, when does it all end?

mb

the wedding chronicles, pt 1

i've been having bizarre dreams all week, the kind of dreams that you sort of remember when you wake up, but only fuzzy details, and you have a vaguely uneasy feeling that if you fully remembered what you dreamt about, you'd be sort of disturbed by it. (i think it's the book i'm reading, Revolutionary Road. it's excellent, but one of those novels that quietly does a number on your brain.) 

anyway. i had a dream last night that i did remember upon waking and it's an odd one. i dreamt i was engaged to a fella named Craig Vondercrone—people i went to grade school with will find this utterly random and hilarious. the last time i saw the kid (eighth grade graduation) he had carrot-colored hair and a mouthful of braces. i have no idea why he popped up in my dream, but there he was, my groom-to-be. i think we were in the ocean during the dream and we'd only been engaged a short time (but long enough for me to have settled on my bridal party). while we were in the ocean he told me he didn't want to be engaged to me anymore. he was apparently still in love with someone else, someone from his past. and just like that, i was un-engaged. and, with a strange mix of humiliation and relief, i had to tell my friends and my parents the news. somewhere along the way i saw Craig making out with the girl he was still in love with, which sort of sealed the deal. 

and then i woke up. piece by piece the dream came back to me, and i wondered what the hell was going on in my subconscious. i'm guessing i'll have many similar wacky, anxiety-laced dreams between now and next November. should be fun...!

on a somewhat related note, there's a Vera Wang bridal sample sale tomorrow in the city and for two seconds i thought about going, but i really do value my eyeballs and my hair so i'm passing. yes, of course i'd love a Vera Wang gown, especially at a steeply discounted price. but it's not worth the stress. i haven't even begun dress shopping yet and i don't want my first experience to be reminiscent of a scene from Gladiator. 

and anyway, my lovely Lauren has pointed out that i can make an appointment at the actual Vera Wang boutique just for the experience. i'll be treated like a princess instead of a punching bag ~ and apparently they serve you free cake. 

done!

mb

the kids are not all right

so this morning i'm wondering what the hell is wrong with the teenagers in this country.

three times this week on the Today show they did stories about various frightening, disheartening aspects of American teenagers. the other morning it was the naked picture trend. seems kids today are taking a lot of risque photos of themselves and either sending them via cell phone or posting them on their myspace page. (then somehow they're devastated when the pictures wind up in the wrong hands, or posted all over the internet.) 

someone on the show asked why it was happening so often these days and an "expert" explained: "well, you know, girls are just goofing off, having fun, they take a few pictures and then disaster happens." wait a sec. just goofing off? when i was that age, goofing off meant stealing silverware from Denny's or attempting to make Rice Krispies treats with peanut butter in lieu of marshmallows. i realize i was a twinge more innocent than other kids my age, but i don't think anyone was taking naked pictures of themselves.

ah, right. because there was no internet to showcase them. no cell phones to send them.

this morning alone there were two segments on troubled teens. the first covered increasing addictions to prescription drugs. these kids are all about their Adderall. they just need to relax, man, and the Addy does it. even if they don't have an ADHD friend willing to share, they can easily find the drug...on the internet. no questions asked, no proper ID or prescription required. just a credit card and an e-mail address.

awesome.

the other segment today was about teens and how stressed out they are. apparently it's so bad they're referred to as Generation Stress. the main culprit? high school. 

um, are you kidding me? 

someone on the show mentioned that there's no down time in school. if they're not in math or science, they have to go to music or art class. 

quelle horreur! 

and i just got so pissed listening to this drivel. it's hard to say if the Today show is at fault, drudging up stories where there are none, or if kids are really that stressed out at school. i graduated 13 years ago and can't imagine that much has changed in terms of curriculum or requirements. and while Algebra gave me stomach cramps on a regular basis, high school was not that damn hard. at all. 

(maybe these kids feel stressed because being at school cuts into time they could be spending posing nude, getting high or watching Gossip Girl. right. that's probably it.) 

i happen to think Generation Stress is a group of entitled brats who balk at actually having to work for things. they haven't known a world without cell phones or the internet. anything that doesn't happen in point-three seconds is unacceptable, not worth it, too hard. 

guh! you want troubling? if kids today are this downtrodden, confused and mixed up, if they feel so put-upon and stressed out all the time, what the hell is going to happen once they're out of college? these kiddies better get a grip now, that's all i'm saying.

mb

some year

with all the engagement hooplah, my birthday got lost in the shuffle of my brain, but it is indeed today. today i am indeed thirty-two. and while my mind hasn't quite wrapped itself around that number, i've been reflecting this birthday on where i was last birthday.

that would be (in case you forgot): basically homeless, essentially single and without real health insurance or a permanent job. 

seeing as i'm the kind of person who enjoys personal progress, i allowed myself a little mental happy dance for all that i accomplished while i was thirty-one. 

and thirty-two is likely to be a pretty big year as well, with the whole becoming-a-wife thing and all. i'm also hoping to make some more headway on my fiction writing, spend as much time with my Gram as possible, and simplify my life a little (ie, eradicate the piles of junk mail, magazines and meaningless papers that seem to congregate on their own around my apartment).

we'll see. all i know for sure today is that i am one damned lucky girl... 

mb

it smelled the same

the topics i want to write about here are piling up in my brain while things keep getting in the way of me actually engaging in the act of writing. before they all meld into one incomprehensible ball, i'd like to rewind a little more than week and explain what it was like to be back inside my grade school, St. Stanislaus. 

two days before Thanksgiving i received an e-mail from my high school's alumni office. they were forwarding information, on behalf of my grade school, about an "alumni event" the Saturday after Thanksgiving. anyone who graduated from St. Stan's, any decade, any year, would be welcomed back to the school for tours, snacks and drinks in the gymnasium, and a serious trip down memory lane. 

you should have seen how excited i was. really. i have wanted to get back inside that building for years. i have vivid, excellent memories of the nine years i spent in school there (kindergarten through eighth) and just wanted to see it again, to discover if it still felt the same, looked the same, smelled the same. (hey, it had a distinctive smell.) 

i convinced Kate and Christine to go with me before our existing dinner plans that night and, slightly warily, they agreed. none of us knew what to expect, how it would be. i think we were all a little weirded out as we parked our cars in the front lot and made our way to the school doors. but once we got inside, i was thrilled. 

the school is nothing fancy, for sure (it's downright ghetto if you ask Christine, a third-grade teacher in a public school) and it really has not changed much at all in the 17 years (oh dear god) since i graduated. but that's the wonderful thing about it, for me anyway. it was a time warp, took me right back to those safe and cozy days when my biggest source of stress was passing a spelling test or weigh-in day at the nurse's office. 

i had some important life moments in that school. like when i won first place in the talent show for playing the theme from "Cheers" on the piano (the costume my mother made me wear really won it for me - my piano playing was just OK) and i won first prize in the Language Arts Fair for a short story i wrote about magic eyeglasses. i wrote my first newspaper articles ("3A Today!") and was traumatized in sixth grade by Miss Marino, who accused me of having my period when i so didn't. i also spent many school dances in the bathroom pretending i was too busy to slow dance with any smelly boy (when, really, no smelly boys were asking), and many recess hours in the schoolyard navigating the intricate, slippery rungs of the social ladder. 

honestly, i spent a good portion of my childhood inside that school, so of course i was curious, bewildered and so happy to be back. it was like a piece of me that had been so far away for so long was right in its place...tucked inside the too-small coat closets with the brown accordion doors or shoved inside the open-front desk with the marble notebooks and pencil-top erasers.

and it was nice to know that at least, for now, that piece of me will always be there. looking, feeling and smelling the same as it did circa 1985. 

mb

now i can stop listening to "wedding bell blues" on repeat

a little late-breaking news, dear readers: i'm officially off the market. it's true. i, Megan Elizabeth, the slowest blooming flower in the garden, got engaged the day before Thanksgiving.

engaged.

i know!

oh sure, it was eight years in the making, and i did know it was coming, but still there was a part of me that wondered. i suppose a girl never knows for sure until she's been formally asked. but that i was, on the observation deck of the Empire State Building around three-thirty in the afternoon last Wednesday. it was a chilly, overcast day but the sinking sun was beaming through a break in the clouds, lighting up a lovely little part of the Hudson River and i thought i'd never seen anything so beautiful.

that is, until Michael got down on one knee and presented me with the most perfect proposal and a ring to match.

it's safe to say i've been smiling now for six days straight.

back in September i downloaded the awesome 5th Dimension song, "Wedding Bell Blues," sort of as an inside joke between me and myself. most mornings on my walk back from the gym i'd play it on my iPod and it invariably made me smile.

but now... now it no longer applies. hmm. perhaps it's time to download "Going to the Chapel..."

mb