#185 He is City Lovin'

Weekend I’d Forget

I can cram the events of this past weekend into three acronyms: NYC, AC, SONJ

And for the first time ever, the highlight of the weekend wasn't the food!

Blasphemy, I know!

We started with a 'work dinner’, but dinner with Hubby's coworkers is never a traditional 'work dinner’ it is too much fun to be considered that. We ate at “Blue Water Grill” in Union Square. Part of me was wishing I had come three hours earlier to walk around the area and soak it all in—I love Union Square!

I ordered the scallops and naturally, they were fabulous. However, as I said, the food really wasn’t the highlight. We were seated in the restaurant’s Jazz Dining Room and were only feet away from live entertainment that played everything from classic jazz hits to pop hits with a twist.

Hubby and I were eyeing up the Shellfish Tower that several tables ordered. It was three tiers of the best seafood around. Perhaps next time…

As we headed to our hotel after a little wandering around town, I saw what appeared to be flames. I could only imagine it was a contained, controlled fire and wasn’t worried until we walked closer and there was no one there containing or controlling.

By the time we were across the street from it, we realized a huge garbage container was ablaze and growing by the second. A bouncer at a club across the street stood in the middle of the road shouting the license plate numbers of the car behind and in front of the fire to the hostess in case it was one of their patrons’. We were more concerned with calling the fire department. It certainly appeared as though this wasn’t a regular occurrence on West 36^th street because every passerby stopped what they were doing to stare at the flames. Some people ran past then stopped, gauging just how far away they felt was safe enough to stop and stare in awe. One daredevil stood about two feet from the flames videotaping the fire.

Not exactly the choice I would have made. We stayed to watch the fireman come all while gazing back and forth between the fire and the line of traffic backed up on the street, and then realized our hotel was in spitting distance from the fire. We went up thinking that we would sit and stare down below and then realized we were in the only level of the hotel with angled windows. They were perfect for a dreamy city view, but not perfect for spying down below.

Here is a bit of common sense. While staying in a hotel, if you want to sleep in, you should close the curtains.

In spite of knowing that the blinding sun would wake me up, I couldn’t. I wanted to go to sleep gazing out at the city and wake up to the city.

And I did.

At 5:00 am.

But the view was so worth it.

For breakfast, we headed uptown, way uptown, to Absolute Bagels which you might remember from our short Valentine’s Day trip to the city. We were greeted with a long line and a very, very, cranky man in front of us.

It was also worth it.

Being the foodies we are, we needed good coffee, so we headed to a French pastry shop. Two lattes and a French donut later, we were headed to Central Park to enjoy our goodies.

This was a REAL French donut, folks. Remember the French donut of Le Pain Quotidien that we discovered in Chicago? Let’s just say I referred to the present pastry as a French donut and the authentic Frenchman behind the counter said, “Well, yeah, you could call it that.”

As if spending the night in the city, seeing our first street fire, and walking around west Central Park wasn’t enough, from NYC we headed straight to Atlantic City to meet up again with Hubby’s work buddies. We weren’t just there to gamble, though of course, we did.

Hubby’s coworker, Jason, plays hockey and his team was having their championship games all weekend. I have only been to one hockey game in my life, and I loved every minute of it. So I was a little over eager to go to the game.

I did, however, forget that even though it is starting to feel like summer in New Jersey, it will always feel like winter in a skating rink. I was the smart one who wore flip flops that day.

Go ahead and laugh. I deserve it.

Here’s where you’re going to think we are absolutely wild and crazy. We drove home somewhere around 12:30 am from Atlantic City to hop in bed and wake up five hours later to go to Gloucester County, NJ for Jonathan’s last Special Olympics swim meet before the Summer Games.

I’ve always been a night owl, but it has been a while since I pulled two days of nonstop activity paired with two nights of five hours or less sleep.

But New York City, work friends, Atlantic City, and Jonathan are all worth it.

This is somewhere around the four hundred and ninety bazillionth swim meet I have attended. I sometimes go with my old hat face on. We’re going to watch Jon swim, we’re going to be excited for him, we’re going to go out to eat and celebrate no matter what.

In his first race he swam his little heart out and legitimately earned his gold medal. I say legitimately because there have been times he was only competing against himself. In that case, earning a gold medal merely means that he swam. This time it meant he pushed past the other two competitors in his division.

The Special Olympics motto is, “Let me win, but if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt.”

I wish all competitors could adopt this motto. It has become a mantra for me along with Habit Four of the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, “Think Win/Win, Everyone Can Win”.

This was put into action as Jonathan’s 50-meter relay, the dead last heat of the day, took place. I used to feel bad for the people that had to stick out the swim meets until the last event and here we were, sticking it out. Surprisingly, there were still several fans there. Jonathan swam first and was lagging a little behind, but the next two swimmers caught his team up. When the final swimmer, who couldn’t have been more than ten, went to swim, he swam one length of the pool and stopped.

“Go back!!” was screamed from the stands.

We watched as this little guy stopped at the edge of the pool, turned and then swam a few feet. He stopped, swam to the ropes and waited. He slowly pushed himself a little further, then stopped and clung to the ropes again, contemplating the water, looking as though he might not finish the race at all.

This is often the point where the winners’ families all turn away and leave, and the coaches and volunteers for the finished teams start to walk toward the area that medals are given. The families of the lagging team are left standing alone in the stands.

But not this day.

No one moved from the stands. Everyone was already standing from cheering for their teams, and now they all cheered with one common goal—to get this little guy to the finish. The coaches and volunteers crowded around the end of his lane, and just about everyone in the room cheered and clapped for the athlete and the team that would take last place.

“Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing” is a famous quote of UCLA Bruins football coach Henry Russell "Red" Sanders. 

My guess is that Mr. Sanders never saw a Special Olympics competition where winning isn’t the focus, but the people behind the sport are what is most important.

Winning should be secondary. People are primary. This weekend, I knew that to be true.

#175 He Believes in Me

                                                                 Weekend I’d Forget

These events are in no particular order.

1. I ate nachos.

Hubby has a running list on his phone of places to go to eat. It ranges from local places to places in New York and LA. This is partially to due to watching far too many episodes of Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives, but also due to the fact that we love trying new places.

Since we were in the area, 10th Avenue Burrito ended up being our lunch option on Sunday. I had sworn off any form of Mexican food because of the 7-layer-nacho experience, but didn't want to be a party pooper.

I can't say that I have had a better nacho in my life. They are obviously homemade as they have a greasy delicious crunch to them that you just don't get out of the bag. They were loaded with cheese and meat and all other necessary nacho delights. I could have used a little more sour cream though, maybe some salsa, too.

The burritos, however, for which the restaurant is named, weren't all that. I ordered the chicken stir fry burrito thinking it would be a milder burrito.

No. Not at all.

I could only take about two bites because the spice was so overpowering. If you like spicy, I suppose you would be thrilled.

Our waitress was pretty horrible too, but I'll save you from that description and leave it for my Trip Advisor readers.

2. I cut my hair.

I have been cutting my hair every six to eight weeks for the past year, so that isn't so exciting. But I did get a completely different style and color this time. Blonde, even just highlights, have been too much upkeep for me so I decided to make a change. But apparently I can't resist color...so I asked my hair stylist to throw in a little purple.

My thoughts?

Where has this been all my life?

3. I celebrated the start of Spring Break.

I heard tell of the deliciousness of the Cucumber Basil Smash at Seasons 52. It tasted like I was drinking the healthiest cocktail ever, Prairie Organic Cucumber Vodka will do that, I suppose. I know what you're thinking--is that good thing or a bad thing? In this case it was definitely a good thing! If you are a cucumber fan, as I am, and can enjoy a hint of basil, this is a drink for you!

4. I went to see Cats with my SIL, Sam, and Jonathan.

If I hadn't been familiar with the music, I might have been a little confused. Afterwards I did a little reading and realized that because T.S.Eliot's book, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, is the inspiration and text of most of the show, Andrew Lloyd Webber was given permission by the Eliot Estate only to use the original poems as the text, which from the start of the show in 1981 caused confusion among cast members over the plot.

Regardless, the performance was well-done for a local theater group. The costumes and scenery looked comparable to any pictures I have seen of the show on Broadway.

5. I spoke to a woman with a 56-year-old brother with Down syndrome. She just so happened to be sitting behind us for the entire show.

Jonathan loves shows. He is, let's say, overly enthusiastic about them. He isn't disruptive, but he does like to bounce with excitement, gasp enthusiastically, and shake his dolls back and forth to the music. We've never had a problem in the theater (we have in church, but that is a different story for a different time), but I'm always overly cautious and as considerate as I can be of those around us. Translation: I spend half the night trying to make Jonathan 'like everyone else'.

Boo to that.

When the play finished, the woman behind us said, "Is he your brother?" She then told me of her brother, how he is nonverbal but would have been enjoying the show just as Jonathan did. We both felt it had been meant to be that she was behind us. I told her that I was one of Jonathan's guardians and she excitedly told me that she was for her brother also.

She gave me a positive outlook on what aging will be like for Jonathan.

Like everything else with those with Down syndrome, it looks like it will be awesome.

6. I took an obnoxious number of pictures with this cutie.

Speaking of obnoxious, I made the mistake of quoting the seahorse from Finding Nemo who says, "I'm obnoxious" when introducing himself to Nemo. To which Jonathan proceeded to say, "I'm obnoxious" for the entire ride home from the show. However, it slowly transformed from "I'm obnoxious" to "I'm noxious" to "I'm nauseous".

Thankfully, it was just an interpretation issue and not literal.

7. I was spoiled with a new violin by Hubby.

You might recall two years ago when I went with my friend, Amy, to help her pick out a violin. Ever since I came home from that experience, apparently, Hubby had been planning on having me return to the same violin shop.

When I decided I wanted to go to college for violin, I began the dreaded task of auditioning for schools. When auditioning for my top pick, in front of the associate concertmaster of the Philadelphia orchestra no less, I was advised to major in music education (which later caused me to switch to a music minor) and to get a new violin.

The best argument to get your parents to shell out cash on a new violin is to say the associate concertmaster of the Philadelphia Orchestra told you to.

That was more years ago than I want to admit. I finished school. Time passed. I stopped playing. I played here and there. I stopped playing. I taught beginner violin lessons. I played for church. I stopped playing.

Until I decided enough was enough and started taking private lessons again.

This naturally spurned the desire for a new violin, but it also brought up realization of mistakes and improvements I needed to make in my playing.

It has been a little under a year and I am still going strong with taking lessons. I have learned so much more in this short amount of time than throughout all my high school or college years combined. Even though I would have said I'm not worth investing in a new violin, I have a husband who still wanted to do so.

My new violin is beautiful, it has character, history, and will only continue to help the progress I have begun. It is also a constant reminder of how much my Hubby not only loves me, but believes in me.

#172 He is My Valentine

Weekend I’d Forget

Somewhere over the last two or three years, I decided I liked Valentine’s Day. For so long I had decided to down play it that I suppose in the end I forced myself to like it. The last time I had been out to eat on Valentine’s Day was back when Hubby and I were dating. We waited at least two hours for a table he had reserved weeks in advance.

No, wait. That sentence doesn't do that experience justice. We waited in the entryway of a little Italian restaurant in South Jersey crammed up against what felt like every other couple in South Jersey. The restaurant was open enough that we could see other couples sitting and enjoying their dinners, but the waiting area was close enough to the front door that we needed to keep our coats on or else endure cold winds every time the door was opened. We stood for so long that at some point, probably around the two hour mark; one of the employees came around and gave every woman waiting a tiny gold heart pendant wrapped in a velvet envelope as some sort of peace offering.    

After that experience, Hubby never wanted anything to do with restaurants on Valentine’s Day again. During the rest of our dating years, we would go out a few days before or after, noting that the day really held no significance. After we were married we began taking turns being responsible for dinner. One year, he ordered food, picked it up on his way home from work, and served it to me on china. Other years, we cooked for each other. You might recall last year, and the surprise trip I planned to Baltimore.

Hubby didn't fail to live up to last year’s standards. He planned an entire weekend in my favorite place: NYC. Though the temperature was somewhere in the not-at-all-human degrees, we still enjoyed ourselves in my favorite place on earth.

Originally, he wanted to get us a room at The Plaza. There is a tiny dork inside of me who desperately wants to one day stay there because of one of my favorite movies, Home Alone 2: Lost in New York.

Don’t judge.

However, the prices were enough to make you scream, so he booked two nights at the hotel directly next to The Plaza: Park Lane Hotel. Same view of Central Park, same exact block, only it was a hunk of cash cheaper.  

We really let our inner foodies shine this weekend. For all the times we have been to NYC we have never had a NYC bagel or pizza.

Take a moment to recover from the shock. It’s overwhelming, I know.

So they were, obviously, two important stops for us to make.

Then, for the first time in over ten years, we went out to eat on Valentine’s Day. I’m not sure how Hubby researches or discovers such awesome restaurants, but our Valentine’s Day meal was out of this world. We had an eight-course dinner that at first made me afraid, then in the end made me want to experience it again and again.

It would only be right to discuss our foodie ventures over at The Orange Strainer. So that is where you will find them.

When we weren't eating, we were shopping. When we weren't shopping, we were rushing to catch the Subway before we started to frost over. Despite the bitter temperature, most of NYC was wide awake and hustling to and from as if it was any other weekend. It made me feel good that we weren't the only people daring enough to take on single digit temperatures with a negative Real Feel.

The food was certainly my favorite part of the weekend, but a close second was sleeping in, sharing champagne with my Hubby, and sitting back and enjoying our view.

I can’t wait to go back in the spring.

  

#165 He Shops Every Level of Macy's

Did I miss Weekend I'd Forget last weekend?

And perhaps the weekend before?

Yes.

And I loved every minute of it.

While the past two weekends held moments that were Weekend I'd Forget worthy, in order to have truly enjoyed them, to have let them absorb into the depths of my being, there was no way I could blog about them.

I have been busier this holiday season than ever before.  At first, I thought, How can this be?  This year was like any other.

Then I realized I was fooling myself.  This year has been quite unlike any other, especially the past three months.  In October, I lost my senses and started a recipe challenge committing myself to cook 65 new recipes in less than three months.  In November, I started a new job, then baked for three days straight for Thanksgiving breakfast.  In December, I tried to juggle it all from making dinners to fulfill my recipe challenge to practicing violin for the lessons I began in July.  Somewhere in there I scrambled together time to blog, Christmas shop, and spend time with family.

I reached the days before Christmas slightly out of breath and certainly ready for the two week break from work.  I have only begun to kick my feet up and relax.

My house this week has been flooded with wrapping paper, bows, shopping bags, and boxes.  Even my organizational side has loved every second of it.

Saturday, Hubby and I spent the entire day in NYC, and I may have once or twice begged him to throw care to the wind and find an apartment there to rent with me.

Thank goodness he practically reminded me how expensive the city would be for our wallet.

I then pled with him to compromise and move us to the outskirts of the city.

I'm thinking it is still a 'no'.

We ate delicious food, walked around the shops at Bryant Park, and then shopped every single level at Macy's.

It was wonderful and all too soon I had to return to the reality of my little corner of New Jersey.

But that's okay.  There will be other weekends.

#148 He 'Climbs' the Empire State Building

Weekend I’d Forget

One thing that used to bother me when I was working was the dreaded question asked by all on Monday mornings, "How was your weekend?"

How was my weekend?  It's 8 am on Monday morning.  My weekend is the furthest thing from my mind right now.

Then I would stutter and squirm through trying to remember what on earth I actually did during the weekend.  I'd attempt to make it sound exciting, knowing that regardless what I had done it couldn't make up for the fact that it was now Monday morning and I had five days ahead of me before I could reach the freedom of another weekend again.*

*Note: I have always loved my jobs.  But I do not, repeat do NOT, like Monday mornings or 8 am.

This leads me to Weekend I'd Forget.  As an attempt to make sure I have something to write on Monday mornings, I am holding myself accountable to write a Weekend I'd Forget every Monday morning.  The point and purpose is to find one positive about my weekend to share with you.  I hope that in return you might find one positive about your weekend to share with me in the comments section either here or on my Facebook page.

So here goes.

Fortunately, my first Weekend I'd Forget was jam packed with fun and excitement.  We literally had plans every minute of the weekend, which is a big deal for us.  If I had to pick one favorite from the weekend though it would be this:

We went to NYC with my SIL, Sam, and her boyfriend, Kurt.  The purpose of the trip was to use gift cards we exchanged over the past two years to the Brazilian steakhouse, Fogo de Chao.  Initially, I thought dinner was going to be my Weekend I'd Forget entry.  Naturally, the meats were delicious.  The dessert was delicious.  My drink, Super-fruit Lemonade, was delicious.  Our after dinner drinks at my favorite coffee shop, Caffe Bene were delicious.  But our excursion following dinner was really what made my weekend.

Despite having visited the city a billion times over the last ten years, I have never experienced the Empire State Building.  It always seemed too touristy for me.  But when Hubby took some out-of-state coworkers, I realized through bitterness just how much I actually wanted the chance to climb the Empire State Building.

Most people find rolling hills and soothing seashores to be relaxing.  For me, the view of the city causes me to sigh romantically as I gaze longingly down the city streets lined with taxi cabs and skyscrapers.  

I also had to fight the urge to quote the movie, Elf, the entire time we were there.

We were in and out of the Empire State Building in roughly three hours.  I could have stayed longer, leaning against the bars staring down at the city streets.  A lot of tourists were daring, holding their phones out beyond the bars in order to get the best pictures possible.  My only regret was that I didn't have my fancy SLR camera with me to do the same (of course, while it was safely strapped around my neck).

Oh well.  Next time.

#136 He's Got a Dream

When I think about my ultimate life aspirations, the scene from the movie, "Tangled" immediately pops into my mind.  I am all of a sudden surrounded by ruffians and thugs singing about how they really don't want to be malicious and scary but would rather have professions as concert pianists, florists, and interior designers.

This past weekend I stayed in one of my top five favorite places: NYC! (Who am I kidding? It's really my number one, but I wanted to leave room for any other potential candidates that might like to try out for the position).  Back in May, Hubby pushed me to pursue my dream of writing for a living in a more committed way; translation: this would be an investment of our money and my time.  He forced me to register for the Writer's Digest Conference being held in NYC and to not just register for the conference, but also for the 'Pitch Slam'.  The Pitch Slam is an hour where writers are given the opportunity to pitch their book to agents and editors in hopes of obtaining business cards representing an invitation to contact that agent/editor with more information, and it also, as I'm sure you've guessed, is a further financial commitment.

At first, I tried to chicken out.  While of course spending the weekend in the city was appealing, I wasn't sure about this whole 'pitch slam' thing.  After all, was I really ready for that?

What you may not know, dear blog follower, is that I have been sitting on my completed manuscript for well over three months now.  I sent out a few feelers, but that was the extent of it.  Therefore, yes, I was really ready for it, I just lacked the confidence to pursue it.  

Though it was a fantastic opportunity, I think perhaps Hubby may have at one point or another slightly regretted forcing me to sign up for the Pitch Slam.  Because every free moment between the sessions I attended and my 1:30 pm Pitch Slam session on Saturday I forced him to listen again and again as I perfected my pitch.

My Pitch Slam Map.  I think I may have issues.

I came home with a five-pound Sunday edition of the NY Times, a signed copy of a self-published book written by a new friend I made, and streams of information written in my notebook and throbbing in my brain.  I also had four business cards.

The weekend was more than simply inspiring.  It was motivating, invigorating, and most importantly, eye-opening.  Several authors either were keynote speakers or spoke as part of various sessions I attended.  Hearing that they go through writer's block, have days where they feel like their writing is crap, and use things like laundry, grocery shopping, and research as excuses to procrastinate brought them down to earth, standing on the same level as me.

 Some of the best tips I scribbled down during the weekend, which I feel can also be applied to a lot of dreams outside of writing, are:

*Nothing is sacred
It's okay to delete your own work.  It doesn't have to be perfect, and more than likely won't be, the first time around.

*Do something!
When your story stalls you need to do something.  Romance writer, Cheryl St. John says, "Puke it out.  Clean it up later."  Your story isn't going to write itself.

*Don't sit around waiting for the muse
Despite what you may have heard about writers waiting for the muse to strike, almost every speaker at this conference spoke strongly against such an idea. 


My favorite speaker was Harlan Coben, a New York Times Bestselling Author of mystery novels.  He said many things that I loved, but I'll share two:

• "Only bad writers think they're good.  We're all insecure".

Mind blowing.  For that to come from a bestselling author seems impossible.  I would think such a person would reach a point of pompous entitlement to the reader acceptance of anything they produce.  I'm glad to hear it isn't so.

• "I don't like writing.  I like having written". 

This quote is fantastic because too often writers act as though the art of writing is what keeps them going.  And while that may be somewhat true, I can't imagine that being halfway through writing a novel is quite as satisfying as when it has been accepted by a publishing company and is going to print. 

Lastly, this quote wasn't said during the conference but is one whose sentiments were strongly felt in the overall tone of many of the speakers.  It is one of my favorites and is my mantra for whenever I get down about wanting to be a writer:

"Writers write.  If you want to be a writer, write".

#134 He Turned T-H-I-R-T-Y

Hubby isn't the type for surprises or big parties, so when we realized he was turning 30 this year (umm....how did that happen to the gangly 17-year-old I started dating a trillion years ago?) we decided we would take a 30th birthday vacation to Las Vegas instead.

I love Vegas.  This was our second time going, and I'd go again, and probably again and again still.  Vegas is my kind of town, for many reasons which you will have to wait until my next post to read about.  This post, however, is dedicated to:

My Top Five Dislikes About Las Vegas

I figured I would get my complaints out of the way so I can go into detail about all the things I love later!

1. Cigarette smoke is everywhere

I suppose I've been spoiled since New Jersey banned smoking in restaurants.  The only times I've had to endure cigarette smoke in Jersey is when I've been right next to someone outside who is smoking or when I accidentally walk near a smoking zone in Atlantic City casinos.

The luxury of signified smoking areas does not exist in Vegas.  The whole town is an open smoking area.  It's the worst in the casinos, so much so that when we went a few years ago in December all our clothes reeked of it.  This year it wasn't quite as bad, but there were moments.

2. Girls! Girls! Girls! propaganda is everywhere

This sort of thing is to be expected, I suppose, in Vegas.  What annoys me is that these people are practically side by side, lined up, slapping their business card sized brochures to an unknown rhythm in an effort to attract any passerby's attention.  

3. Wyndham employees attack at every turn

If you don't know what I mean by this, consider yourself fortunate.  We got talked into this racket on our honeymoon and have learned from our mistake.  Here's how it starts: A friendly looking person who looks rather official with their bright colored polo and sparkly smile approaches you and asks if you have a few minutes, and of course you do because you're on vacation.  They then proceed to tell you how they can get you a free show, dinner, or an extra night's stay.  If you've entertained them to this point, they'll tell you all this can be yours if you just give them another thirty minutes (which really turns into three hours) of your time.

In Vegas, they are in every casino.  It got to a point where Hubby and I would have to blatantly ignore them when they would approach us as we were plowing through to our next destination.

4. People don't know how to stay to the right

This might sound vaguely familiar if you read my post about NYC last October.  Vegas is packed with people, especially at night.  Streets and casino hallways are only so wide.  So why on earth can't people understand the basic concept of keeping to the right so that the left is open for oncoming walkers?

5. There is a lot of walking

Unless you plan to do what my grandmother did (play slots only in the casino where you are sleeping), plan to walk a lot.  We knew this from experience when we booked our trip, so we chose to stay at a casino that was in a pretty central spot: The Flamingo.  Yet somehow we still walked so much that by the second day we decided to go to the Jacuzzi in 102 degree heat just to relax our feet.

 
Note: This list is information that is worth knowing, but definitely not worth hindering any trip to Vegas.

#44 He Takes Me to Meet the Pioneer Woman

A little over a year ago, I was browsing the remainder bin at Barnes and Noble. There were books that had been left over from special events and book signings that were slightly, but not greatly, discounted in price. I fell upon a cookbook that was so awesome I had to have it, even though it was only slightly, and not greatly, discounted in price.

Me and cookbooks just aren't like that. I love to cook, but to find a cookbook that I absolutely have to have, well, I just never thought that was me.

Apparently it is.

The recipes literally had step by step pictures of the process, no matter how simple or difficult. Whether it was salt and peppering a steak or mixing together ingredients, it was pictured.

Glory hallelujah! Something that might actually show me if I was making a recipe correctly. Something that would keep me from second guessing myself until the final product had already arrived and there was no turning back.

That day I learned who the Pioneer Woman was. And my life was changed forever.

Not only did Pioneer Woman have this awesome book that I had instantly fallen in love with, but she also had a blog, something that I had been attempting, but fallen short on.

So daily I began to read her blog, and weekly something or other of Pioneer Woman's creation graced my breakfast, lunch, dinner, or dessert table.

Hubby heard about Pioneer Woman, often.

Within a nanosecond of her second book's pre-order listing, my copy was ordered on amazon.com (another thing my life would not be the same without). Her book tour was listed on her blog and I looked it over instantly hoping she would be at my local Barnes and Noble. Sadly, there were no visits scheduled to New Jersey and the signing in NYC was on the Tuesday night her book came out. Our home in New Jersey is about an hour away from NYC on a good day. The thought of driving into the city, on a school night, bounced back and forth in my mind until I gave the matter a finalized, "No".

I can't remember when hubby heard about it. But, when he did he gave me a finalized, "We're going".

I'm pretty sure I blacked out after that and didn't wake up until two days before the event.

I know, I have issues.

Don't tell me though, I'm in denial.

I'm not sure the last time I was so excited. I was so excited I couldn't sleep.

Seriously, I'm not sure what is wrong with me.

I did this ridiculous thing though. My first thought was, 'I should bring my camera. I can get a picture with her and it will be awesome,'.

And then, when it came time for me to run out the door I forgot my camera.

But, it gets worse.

I remembered that I forgot my camera upon getting into my car. Yet then, I did this too cool for school thing and thought, 'Nah, I don't need a picture with her. Plus, if I really want one, I've got my camera phone,'.

That's how I ended up with this:

Well, at least those books on top of that shelf came out clear.

Nevertheless, I left the bookstore thrilled, filled with inspiration, and

........more in love with my hubby than ever.