A few weeks ago, I was participating in a team-building activity with my company and was asked “what do you like to do for fun outside of work?”  My answer, among other things was “play outside.”  I’ve always been a big fan of being in the outdoors… whether it is at Camp Big Woods running a summer program, lying on the beach in North Carolina, walking/jogging outside on a brisk fall day or relishing in one of the many northeastern snowstorms.  I love to be outside and so it is not surprising that I met and married someone who shares this same interest.  

Over the years, Justin and I have spent many, many summer nights at a campground, or hosting a barbeque and one of our favorite things to do is take an evening “stroll” together through Brookline, particularly once the weather is nice.  Yes, sometimes the stroll is up to the brew-pub, but it is a stroll nonetheless.  :)  

Last month, we took a new approach on “playing outside” and participated in some fundraising events.  On May 3rd, he biked 42 miles in the cold and driving rain to complete the NYC 5-Boro Tour  while I traipsed through Boston on a 20 mile route in the annual Walk For Hunger.  Then, on May 16th and 17th, I completed the Avon Breast Cancer Walk, which was a 39.1 mile walk.   Together, we raised a total of $2900 that went to the organizations that we supported.  Needless to say, we both felt pretty accomplished and incredibly grateful to all of our family, friends and colleagues who supported us.

Stephanie, Dori, Jess & Heather - Walk for Hunger, Boston 2009

NYC 5-Boro Bike Ride

Avon Finish Line!

And now… on to our next outdoor activity!  On August 15th we will ride with Elizabeth and Jon in the Harpoon Point to Point bike ride.  It’s a 50 mile trek through Vermont to benefit the state’s food bank.  Should be fun and we’re already looking forward to it!  :)

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Justin and I have spent the better part of our spring fighting off the flu.  It’s not been super-fun, but it did give us some quality time together in our the new digs.  However, after 4 weeks of feeling run-down we were both pretty fed up.  We took the trip to NY and felt both felt midly OK upon our return.  However, as the week following that trip progressed,  I began to take another turn for the worse.  Grrrr…. 

(Un) Fortunately, my downturn in health coincided with a solo trip to Maryland.  After de-planing on Thursday night, I knew the fate of my weekend had been determined.  A complete feeling of fatigue took over my body, accompanied by a sore throat, fever and body-rattling cough.  I contacted the friend I was planning to travel with and cancelled our plans - - I needed a weekend to rest, re-cooperate and hang out with Mom.  :) Folks, I must confess that I was secretly relieved and excited to have an excuse to spend that time in my parent’s house, snuggled up under a blanket,  completely neglecting the world that existed outside.

Damascus, MD is my hometown and though I didn’t spend my childhood there,  I did “grow up” there.  My family moved to Damascus when I was 12 years old, facing the awful realities of middle-school, braces, breasts, and hormones that turned me into somebody I didn’t know.  To say I hated everything and everyone is an understatement — everything was changing for me that year and in hindsight, 1989 was a pretty pivotal year in my life. As time progressed,  I learned more about our new town, the kids, and our family began to grow in a new direction.  I lived in Damascus through my senior year of high school and then returned back for frequent weekend visits throughout college.  And, though I have not physically lived in my parent’s house in nearly 9 years I still feel a very strong connection to the town, the house and of course, to my family. more…

For 24 years of my life I was a fan of the Baltimore Orioles.  I’ve attended a countless number of games with my dad, grandfather, sister (and occasionally, Mom) at Memorial Stadium and Camden Yards.  My grandfather once caught a fly ball hit by the Twin’s center fielder (we were sitting in right field when he snagged it with his ball-cap).  Every time I hear the Star Spangled Banner, I want to yell “OOOOOO say can you see” midway through the song. 

But alas, I met and married a Red Sox fan.  Call me a traitor, tell me I just love the underdog (which they were when I met Justin in 2002)… assume that I am a chameleon and wanted to connect with my guy.  Any of those statements might be true.  However, I have a pretty clear memory of October 27, 2004 because that was the night I felt in love with the Red Sox.  How could you not that night?  Furthermore, irregardless of how you may feel about them now, in 2004 they deserved to win and it was such a thrill to watch them.  Standing in front of the tv  in my Watson Hall RD apartment at Syracuse University that evening, crossing my fingers with all my might, I never could have imagined that we would move to Boston  9 months later.  

Yet, here we are living in Boston nearly 4 years later. Moving to Boston was a huge turning point in our relationship and we’ve taken some pretty major steps (like marriage) in our time here.  Our first apartment - - all whopping 400 square feet of it was less than 1 mile from Fenway park.  On summer nights when we had the windows open, we could hear the game and see the stadium lights through the tree branches.  At that point, we had such a small amount of money that we balked at spending more than $40 a week on groceries (for two people!).  But somehow, we found a way to make it to the Red Sox games that year.  Times have changed, but not that drastically, and we still find ourselves making room in the budget to attend games on a regular basis.  And though we have moved several times in the past 4 years, we are still within walking distance to Fenway Park.   more…

A few posts back I described events that unfolded in our lives between 2/14/2009 and 3/29/2009  - the chaotic move to a new house followed by weeks of the “regular” flu.  At that time, lying on the couch in our new basement, surrounded by unpacked boxes and barely able to breathe without coughing, I drew to mind the words that my Grandfather once bitterly announced to our family “I fail to see the humor in this.”  If memory serves, he was referring to some mishap that occurred on a family vacation.  However, the internal optimist in me (thank you M.J. Fox), did have some small hope that I would be able to look back and note some moments of humor within our ordeal.  I have had a few weeks to recover in a number of ways and have pinpointed 5 such moments. 

Humorous Moment #1:  As we are moving our belongings into the new house, we broke a mirror in the common area that is shared with our next door neighbor.  We humbly knocked on her door, introduced ourselves, profusely apologized and offered to replace it ASAP.  The very next day as we are unpacking she knocks on our door to a: ask if we’d had a chance to get a new mirror yet because the entryway looks “weird without it” and b: to review a list of things that we should be aware of so that we don’t “irritate her.”   And no,  I am not paraphrasing.  She then followed that sentence by “Oh honey, you look like you’re going to cry… I’m not mad at you.” 

The New Mirror

Humorous Moment #2:  Roughly 6 days before our move,  I called our utility and insurance companies to switch our respective home services over to the new place.  It was a pretty simple process with most companies, except for Comcast.  Admittedly our absolute least favorite utility company to encounter, Comcast managed to activate our new account at our old address. Not a big shock - -nor was it a huge shock that the installation technician (who arrived 2 hours late) was not authorized to install our internet connection, leaving Justin on the phone with Comcast “customer service” for 4 hours.  Three days later when we received a bill for close to $400, having just sent in a payment of nearly $200, Justin took a deep breath and dared to have a coherent conversation with a customer service representative.   45 minutes later I was typing away to the Better Business Bureau and hear Justin say “I don’t think that we’re really getting anywhere and I’d like to speak with a supervisor.”  The representative (from what I could assume) asked why he felt a supervisor was required.  ”You want to know why?  Here’s why (raises voice significantly) ” AT THIS POINT I’M READY TO ACCEPT SERVICE FROM A COMPANY THAT WOULD PROVIDE ME WITH TWO TIN CANS AND A FUCKING BALL OF STRING SO THAT I DON’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH COMCAST ANYMORE.  GET ME A GOD -DAMN SUPERVISOR ON THE PHONE, PLEASE.  We have now been credited for our troubles… twice. more…

Some people say the key to a successful marriage is never going to bed angry.  Other people will tell you that the key is something akin to the golden rule (a.k.a. you get what you give.)  On a recent trip I took, I read an article about the Obama’s and their claim to success in marriage;  spending time together (going on dates, etc.).  One reporter also apparently felt that the key to the Obama’s marriage was “fisting,” though somehow I feel her comments were taken a little out of context.

Thus far, the key to success in our marriage has been our commitment to maintaining our own identities, not being afraid to have a 3 person relationship: me, him and “us.”  Our relationship began when we were living 2 hours apart so in the beginning the struggle was not to create a life outside of the other person, but rather, to include each other in our current lives.  Today, after living together for almost 6(!!) years,  we find ourselves striving for the opposite approach.  

On Easter weekend we traveled together to New York City; after a rather lengthy decision making process we caught the 5:30 Megabus from Boston’s South Station to Madison Square Garden.  One of the great things about taking the bus to NYC (aside from the low cost) is that wi-fi is included, which means you can be pretty productive during that 4.5 - 5 hour bus ride… at least until the battery on your laptop runs out (Megabus doesn’t have the power feature).   Taking the bus also means that neither person has to focus on driving and if you arrive at the bus terminal promptly enough, you have a pretty good chance of getting seats together (which, we did).  We both had noble intentions of getting a few pesky work related emails out of the way and then settling back to enjoy the trip.  Unfortunately, we were flatly unsuccessful in this task.  Justin, tried in vain for about an hour to get connected to his work server with no luck and finally gave up.  I, on the other hand jumped right into my work email and ended up banging out 2.5 hours of work on my laptop and then another hour on his laptop after my battery died.  So much for “wrapping a few things up.”   As we pulled into NYC, however, we both had our iPOD’s cranked, hands linked and were in full weekend mode.  

After retrieving our bags, we literally hit the ground running to meet Gary at the Shake Shack, recently re-opened for late night dining, but still closing at 11AM. We arrived, out of breath at 10:50, ordered our burgers, fries and shake and were promptly handed our meal in-a-box and asked to leave the premises at 11:03.  Meh… that part kind of sucked.  Nonetheless, the three of us found a bench where we enjoyed our late night fast food and then made our way to Astoria/Gary’s abode. Once back at Gary’s place, the boys enjoyed a few beers while I got ready for bed and moved in and out of consciousness on the futon. If you are a fan of How I Met Your Mother, you are probably familiar with the recent episode where Ted creates the “Murtaw List”  - sleeping on a futon is on that list.  However, as our average age as a couple is 29, we decided to disregard the list for at least a few more months. Sorry, Ted! more…

Someday I will be able to write about what has happened over the last month with humorous detail.  I know I’ll be able to because a few weeks ago, Justin and I had dinner with friends and recounted certain moments aloud and had everyone in the room hysterical with laughter.  For right now, I think the timeline of events below will speak for itself.

 February 13, 2009:  A normal Friday, we go out to dinner with Gordon and Jess.  We cannot find a parking spot so Justin returns the car to our apartment and walks to the restaurant.  It is 25 degrees and the zipper on his coat is broken.

 February 14, 2009:

10:00AM: Justin wakes up with a sore throat. 

10:15 AM: He goes to get a glass of water and finds a notice under our door.  It reads (essentially) “construction will begin on your apartment the last week in February.”

11:30AM:  Both sets of parents have been consulted on the apartment issue and an email is sent to our landlord.

11:45AM:  Justin goes back to bed (he has a fever)

5:15PM: Landlord emails back to say she is out of town but didn’t know about the construction and will be in touch.

7:00PM:  Dori goes to pick up chicken soup from Zaftigs and gets hit on by an older man who presumes she is single, out by herself on Valentines Day.

10:00PM: We’re both asleep.  It’s snowing. What a shitty Valentines Day.

 February 16, 2009: Dori talks to Elizabeth  - - she and Jon are engaged!!!  There is much excited screaming (Dori) and smiling (both).

 February 17, 2009: Dori talks with the condominium association manager to confirm aforementioned construction.  She learns that (essentially) they will need to move out.

 February 19, 2009: Justin returns to work, though he is still sick.

 February 20, 2009:  Dori goes to New York to meet Sarah and Nicki for a girls weekend.

 February 21, 2009: Two very cool NYC attractions are seen:  Sex and the City Tour  and Broadway Show: “The Story of My Life”. more…

(this is a very delayed posted…meant for Valentines Day)

Our first Valentines Day fell on a Friday.  I was in my last semester of graduate school at Frostburg and Justin was, as you already know, was “spinning his wheels” at Galyans.  Each weekend, I would drive home from western Maryland and work 3 shifts at the store between the chaos of classes, my internships and job searching.  Each Friday, I woke up feeling a sense of pure excitement - - the kind of excitement that you can probably recall feeling when you were a kid and it’s Christmas Eve.  You have a WHOLE DAY to live through until the big day and it seems like it’s going to be unbearable, but, at the same time, the waiting and the curiosity about how it will feel is somehow exciting.  That is how Fridays were for me.  And so, inevitably I would try to make each Friday go by as fast as possible so that I could get on route 68 headed east and to the store, to see “Ase.” Friday, February 14, 2003 I would rush through my day, accepting valentines wishes and heart shaped cut outs from my students, I would eat lunch with my counseling mentor, and leave promptly at 2:30 to get on the road headed east.  However, I did not have my usual weekend bags with me; no laundry to put through the machines at home, no Galyans nametag in my purse.  I drove eastward home, picked up “Ase,” and we made the trek back to Frostburg together.  It was the beginning of a weekend that would change our relationship from “we think we’re just having fun” to “we think this is way more serious than we thought.” 

To put our first Valentines Day into perspective for you, Justin and I met in November, 2002.  As you know from previous posts, our “first date” occurred somewhere between December 24th – January 12th.  So, this weekend fell just over a month after our first date.  In the time between our first date and Valentines Day, we had a handful of lunch dates, a few dinner dates, some looong phone conversations, and lots flirting over IM.  I don’t remember much about the drive from Frostburg to Gaithersburg but I can surmise that I was probably driving a little too fast, was probably listening to the Dixie Chicks and singing at the top of my lungs and probably made at least one pit stop at a Sheetz to fill up and grab a soda.  Folks after you drive across route 68 to route 70 to route 27 as many times as I have the trips all blur together.  Only a few of the probably 300 or 400 of those trips stand out in my mind.  This day is one of them.  I had picked up Justin at his parent’s house; he was all ready with his overnight bag and several grocery bags full of mystery food that would later be used to cook an impressive dinner.   I was so excited to see him.  It was a nervous kind of excitement that accompanies a newer relationship and if I had to guess, I think he probably felt the same way, though he tends to hide that type of thing much better than I do.   more…

January of 2009 brought a mixture of relief from holiday travel and excitement towards our plans in the coming months.   We returned to Boston the Sunday after New Years day, vowing to never fly again with a certain low-budget airline, lugging suitcases that weighed frightening close to the new 50 lb. cutoff  and half heartedly engaged in the same argument that typically takes place as our plane inches down the runway to our gate.

Dori:  ”Maybe we should take a taxi back to Brookline.”

Justin: pretends he is asleep and cannot hear Dori

Dori: “I mean, our flight was delayed, we have these heavy bags, it’s cold and snowy… and…”

Justin: “Every time!  I knew you were going to bring this up!  Why do you always want to take a cab?!?!”

Dori: “…and clearly neither of us are in the mood to deal with the T and other T passengers….at least… you’re certainly not.”

Justin: “I don’t think you realize how expensive taking a cab is.”

Dori:  ”I’ve done it more times than you have, and besides it’s a nice way to end our holiday trip.  Let’s just splurge.”

Justin: “You know what? Fine.  We will take a cab this one time just so you can see how expensive it is.  And then, I don’t want to hear about this anymore.”

Dori:  ”Are you sure?” (smiles quietly to self) “Because if you don’t want to…”

Justin: It’s FINE!  Let’s just focus on getting off this damn plane for now.”

So… 25 minutes later we were off the plan.  25 minutes after that we finally had our 49.7 pound checked bag marked “CAUTION” with a bright pink sticker +  4 carry on bags and were waiting in the taxi line at Logan airport. Approximately 15 minutes and $28 later we were home.  Finally!  And, Justin finally admitted out-loud that he was wrong about the price of the taxi.   Woot!  

For the next (roughly) 10 days we barely left our apartment, except for work and to buy food at the grocery store.  In part, this was because Boston was hit with 2 snowstorms in the first few weeks of January.  But mostly, it was because being away from Boston made us realize how much we missed our city, missed our too small, too cold, smells like old people or overcooked cabbage (take your pick) apartment and missed each other.  Don’t get me wrong, we had a GREAT time visiting family and friends in Maryland and Florida during our time away.  And we wanted to make the most of that time with our favorite people which meant a lot of late nights, early mornings and busy day time plans too.  

So, our first 10 days back home were spent trying to recapture the moments of restful relaxation that typically accompanies a 13 day stint without work.  We both skipped our morning work-outs and slept in until 8AM during the week, 10AM or later on the weekend and went to bed at shamefully early times every night. We started and watched nearly all of the HBO series Weeds,  caught up on TV shows that had been missed during our time away and ate a lot of pasta (aka: low budget, low effort foods).  Folks - we returned to the lazy, sloth-like  humans that we had both once been before meeting each other.  It was pretty awesome.   more…

Ever since I was a kid, I have been pretty fascinated with the Christmas holiday.  Perhaps it was because school closed for a week or maybe it was the anticipation of Christmas morning.  I think a big part of it was because I was always so hopeful that the magic of the holiday  would bring snow.  (but, that is a different post altogether). 

My sister will tell you that living with Dori the Christmas Dork is pretty frustrating.  For her it meant waking up at 4 in the morning, at 3 in the morning and at least once… at 2AM  only to sit and wait for Mom and Dad to wake up at the painstakingly LATE hour of 6AM!   It also meant that she was frequently  dragged into a hunt through our parent’s closet for presents.  Which, consequently meant that she was rarely surprised on Christmas morning (which she is still very bitter about).  And finally, it meant that she had to open presents at same pace as me because she never knew exactly which presents or stocking stuffers had been purchased with us both in mind. Folks, she has been scarred.  To this day, Sarah prefers to keep everything hush hush, lest she have any inkling of what is to come on Christmas morning.  I can’t blame her though…  my poor sister - it’s tough living with a bossy, christmas dork older sibling.  Fortunately, she now has someone she can share these frustrations with; my husband.  

For Justin, living with me means shutting off the Christmas music that pumps through our speakers from November 1st - November 26th (and suffering through the wild arguments and tears that consequently ensue) .  It means hoofing it to our storage facility on a cold and icy Saturday morning in December to gather up and transport all of our Christmas decorations (we have 6 tubs) for me.   Believe it or not, this year he actually dared to say “what would you think about not decorating this year?”  He was promptly met with an icy, yet somehow tearful stare and said no more.  For my husband, living with Dori the Christmas Dork means spending hours upon hours signing holiday greeting cards, wrapping gifts, pushing cookies through a cookie press and wrestling with both the christmas tree lights AND the lighted Christmas garland that hangs on our balcony each year.   He is a saint. 

When it comes to dealing with my Christmas Dorkiness, the only difference between Sarah and Justin  is that Justin… had a choice.  He knew how Christmas obsessed I am before he said “I do.” Whereas Sarah…she was/is just stuck with me.  There are some redeeming factors to my obsession with this holiday: 

more…

This has been one of my favorite songs from the moment I heard it in the movie a few years ago.  I FINALLY found it online this evening.  Although Justin is not a fan of country music, it makes me think of him and our 3 month dash to the alter after 4 years of living together.  

Time’s A Wastin’ (Reese Witherspoon & Joaquin Phoenix)  from Walk the Line.