Archive | March, 2013

5 Guys + Columbus Alive = Nostalgic Moo

28 Mar

A few weeks ago, the Mister and I went out for a hike on part of the AT (Appalachian Trail, for those of you who don’t know) with Slim. It was a glorious day, sunshine and that cool, crisp air that tells you winter is losing it’s battle with spring. After we hiked for an hour or so, we decided we were starving and needed a game plan before the “hangrys” set in. We decided on 5 Guys Burgers and Fries in Ashburn. 5 Guys. Oh, 5 Guys. I always, always get the same thing, cheeseburger, all the way. Micah changes his order from time to time… the man likes everything but pickles and he loves a change-up. 5 Guys is good. Every. Single. Time. They never disappoint. And those FRIES! We always split a regular size cause there’s just too manY of them. And we salt and pepper the heck outta those babies! If you’ve ever been to a 5 GUYS, you know that they have “flare” on their walls in the form of newspaper and magazine articles. I usually check them out while we eat our peanuts and wait for our food. As I was scanning the walls, reading various reviews, I stumbled across a publication that I read almost every week in Columbus, called Columbus Alive. It’s a great little alternative paper with TONS of info on what to do and where to eat in Columbus. It was the “Best of Columbus” issue from 2010 and 5 Guys was the runner up in the “Best French Fry and Best Burger” categories. It was beaten out by none other than the Thurman Cafe in German Village. I shouted over to Micah to “check THIS out!” And then I was sad. Thurman’s was one of the LAST places Micah and I ate at before we left town for VA. I got so nostalgic, longing for the neighborhood feel of GermanVillage, Grandview and Clintonville. (I also feel this way every time I see a car with an Ohio license plate or an OSU bumper sticker. Then I check out the driver, you know, just to make sure I don’t know them. Normal, right?) It made me miss the sense of community. The GOOD food at affordable prices. The hole in the wall places, that you know after you’ve lived somewhere for years. Your local haunts. And then I started to miss my people. (Speaking of my people, a very cool thing happened when Mr. V and I started dating. My friends and his friends BECAME friends. And are still friends. Independently of us. It really is pretty cool.) I miss my people pretty much on a daily basis. I talked to my mom everyday (sounds crazy, I know, but I have an hour drive home from work so it’s a perfect way to spend that time.) Lately, I have been missing home like Scarlet misses Rhett. I know that my life is here now, with Micah and the Slim but sometimes it is really hard. I am a social beast and when I have no outlet for that, I tend to go nuts. I think planning the wedding is making me homesick too. BUT, there is a silver lining (isn’t there always?!)… I go home in 2 weeks!!!! 2 WEEKS from TODAY!!!! I cannot wait. I have no return ticket…yet. I know, I know, I gotta one.







20 Mar

I passed the Praxis!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I found out on Tuesday, in the most random fashion. Mr. V and I had an argument the night before about me going back to school, debt and his thesis. About supporting each other, financially and emotionally, and about things that happened before we knew each other (i.e. debt and thesis papers). And I was feeling very 1)irritated 2) guilty and 3) overwhelmed when I came to work the next day. I decided to check to see if my scores had come in (I’ve checked every week since I took the test… they said it could take 2 to 4 weeks to get the final scores. UGH!) and *SURPRISE* there they were. My little heart flipped as I scanned the page to check if I passed… I knew EXACTLY what score I needed, numerically, in order to pass and as soon as I saw that I exceeded that number, I did a little woop woop at my desk and was grinning from ear to ear. I called my parents house. No answer. I called Mr. V. No answer. I called my mom’s cell. No answer. I called my Dad’s cell. No answer. I had a “WFT is going on?!?!?” moment and called Micah at work. No answer. I called my dad again… SUCCESS!!! Then my mom called me. And then Mr. V called me. We all were happy, stupid happy and relieved. It was the most fulfilling/proud feeling that I have had in such a long time. I needed it. I was craving a goal to accomplish and man! it felt so, SO good to knock that one outta the park.

No rest for the weary tho… now it’s on the VCLA (Virginia Communication and Literacy Assessment) test. I am studying for that this weekend… luckily, it’s only reading and writing so fingers crossed, I’ll nail this one too. Look out grad school, I’m coming for ya!!

Rumpelstiltskin and Billy Joel.

5 Mar

Today I felt crummy, icky, poo, icky, icky, poo. All day. And I snapped at an innocent co-worker for no real reason. I hate when I do that… I will go to bed feeling bad about it. I have the WORST case of Catholic guilt any non-Catholic has ever contracted. About anything. It follows me around like a shadow. Terrible. Harr-rible.

Anyway, I didn’t eat a whole lot today but I drink have lots of drinks. Coffee, tea, smoothie, water and ginger ale. None of those really helped either. So I spent the rest of my day with my head on my desk or slouched down in my chair, trying to give my tummy some relief.

On the way home, I realized exactly what I needed to help me feel better. Billy. Joel. DUH! Of course! So I put on the Billy Joel radio on good ole Pandora and away I went. I also got to rock out to the Outfield (you know…. yes, you do. “I don’t wanna lose your loooove toniiiiight. I just wanna use your love toniiiight. yeeeah!”) and Phil Collins. What, I ask you makes you feel better than that? Nuthin’

I also had a weird thought… which really isn’t that weird because I think the same thought every.single.time. my tummy hurts…”Am I pregnant?!?!!?!” And then I started thinking about Rumpelstiltskin and how he took the Miller’s daughter’s first born as a debt payment. I mean, and that is supposed to be a “Fairy Tale”? I don’t think so. I mean, how scary for a baby. Some short, bearded man to come and take you away from your King dad and (now) Queen mom, who btw, can turn straw into gold. Some life. Thank heavens the Queen mom guessed that lil stinker’s name. And Rumpelstiltskin. Really? Oh, zee Germanz, zay are crazy.

And, now, naturally, I am feeling loads better.