Made in Richmond

Thank you.

While in line to pay the check at lunch, one of my coworkers spotted my driver’s license.

“Whoooaaaaaaaaa. Is that you?”

I looked down and the picture and realized that it’s a miracle my ID passes as me because I look totally different now.

Observe:

This was taken the Monday Ross and I got back from our honeymoon. And I’m almost unrecognizable. Oh and hello forehead.

I’m actually 17.8 years old!

Go here to find out what your “real age” is.

When I’m not smiling, I tend to look like this:

For some reason, when people see this face, they think something is wrong. And then we have a conversation like this:

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You look sad. Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m great!”

“You can tell me if something is wrong.”

“Really, nothing is wrong.”

And so on and so forth. Then I feel like I have to smile more than humanly possible to make them feel better about my naturally sad-looking face.

The funny thing is, I don’t think this face looks especially sad.

Vapid and vacant? Yes.

Sad? No.

Meet my new officemate:

I started gleefully flagging pages right after I peeled myself off of the ceiling.

Friday: To the gym after work. Much puttering. Met friends at Cous Cous for drinks and good chats. Home to bed late.

Saturday: Slept in. Laundry, cleaning, etc. Ordered in. Off to Ipanema for drinks and ridiculousness.

Sunday: Up for Loaves & Fishes. Got to leave early to come home and rest. Off to Ellwood Thompson and Kroger for groceries. Church. Home. Gym. Excellent dinner. Watching 49 Up before getting ready for bed.

Have a great week!

Ross and I spent a lot of time talking about some major decisions coming down the road for us, the most expensive of which involving where/when we are going to move. We’re not sure what the best decision is yet, but whichever path we choose will require big fat checks with more zeros than I want to think about.

Back when we were getting ready to buy our first house, we spent essentially no money. We ate at home, we hung out at home, we got the occasional dinner out when my in-laws were in town, but that was it. It paid off and a few months later we wrote the biggest check of our entire lives.

It took us a while to realize that we didn’t need to live such a stingy life once our savings account had been replenished. But eventually, we settled into a fairly relaxed (but by no means decadent) approach to money. Blessedly, we have never had a situation where a financial need arose that we didn’t have the cash on hand to cover it. We both work very hard and have somehow managed to become fairly comfortable pretty early in our life together.

We’ll be down-shifting back to a spending freeze over the next few months. Fewer nights out, more meals at home, and and no more impulse buys for anything at all. And while I’m somewhat dreading having to be super-conscious of every penny, Ross and I do so well when we’ve got something like this focus on. Solidarity comes out of shared sacrifice and I’m excited for what these lean times will bring.

(This is a rewrite of a previously posted version that apparently couldn’t handle something as technologically advanced as a video.)

Zapp never stops moving. Ever. I often wonder what it would be like if she had to just depend on us to get our energy out. Actually I do know: we would have thrown her in front of a truck. Kidding! Kind of.

Here’s a video of them playing. Please note how they transition from biting each other’s ankles and thrashing around like lions. (Oh, and sorry about the insanely loud television in the background - Ross was there, and you know how boys are.)

This:

You may have noticed that it snowed today. Such precipitation combined with the lack of grass in our backyard makes for some pretty dirty dogs once they come inside from doing their business. So dirty, in fact, that they were both caked with mud from toes to belly after just a few minutes of being outside.

Bath time!

Shooter does pretty well with baths. He just kind of looks mopey while being washed and then rubs himself all over any available surface once released from the tub.

Zapp, as usual, is a different story.

She hates being wet. She once snapped her collar off (not at the buckle, in the middle of the strap) because she was pulling so hard on a leash to get away from the hose. This means she would rather die than go near water.

When we try to put in her in the bathtub, she seems to sprout additional arms and legs (and TALONS), fighting it the entire time. Have you ever tried to hold 55lbs. of soaking wet determination into a slippery, clawfoot bathtub? Not so easy.

So, tonight, she took a shower.

That’s right.

Someone put on a bathing suit and stood with her in our teeny tiny shower stall to give her a quick rinse. Zapp spent much of the time with her face plastered against the sliding door while her companion hosed her down.

Unorthodox? Possibly.

Worth it? Absolutely.