House Hunting

I had a great visit with my parents over the weekend. We celebrated my mom’s birthday and mine on Saturday. My mom made the annual white buttermilk cake, and to follow tradition, we took the center pieces because they are kind of dense and gooey. I got some great smelly stuff from The Bath and Body Works and a cute little bird pin from my brother. My dad was able to fix the electrical problem in my basement. It was a “eureka” moment…the electric down there has been a real source of frustration.

On Sunday, Lindsey and I drove around some neighborhoods sort of looking at houses. We went to old St. Charles and found a couple of cuties. But we really don’t know where we want to be. Many of the areas convenient to our jobs are out of our price range—or at least more than we want to spend (we are choosing to be conservative on this expenditure). By the end of the day, I was very excited about getting a house together, but having a lot of anxiety about moving away from my city friends and activities. Then I felt like a spoiled heel because Lindsey left everything in Texas to come here and I’m having reservations about moving across town. Not that he ever once has made an issue out of that fact. I guess it has a lot to do with lifestyle choices. I like that we can now meet up with friends on a whim for dinner, I can easily meet up with folks for project meetings, and that we are so close to so many different kinds of restaurants, cultural activities, etc. Moving west means more planning. I’m the kind of person who once I’m home for the evening, I like to stay home. Moving west will encourage the hermit in me and it doesn’t need encouragement. Anyway, we can’t do anything until my house sells and it won’t be ready to put on the market until April. So we have plenty of time for discussion and looking. I hope something magical happens.

We watched the French version of Breathless on Saturday, except that I fell asleep. I can’t remember the last time I made it through an entire movie that started during non-daylight hours on the home DVD player. Great movies, movies without subtitles, action movies…it doesn’t matter. I fall asleep. Is this was turning 39 means? I'm just going to start nodding off all the time? Cripes.

Exotic All American

This was the first week in FOR-EVER that I didn't have a single after work obligation. No meetings. No events. No social activities. It was delightfully strange. I could lazily do my domestic chores, read, and watch tv. It felt so all-American.

On Wednesday, Lindsey took me to dinner at Aya Sofia, one of my new favorite places. I love the atmosphere. The food is fantastic. The service great. And sommelier Jill Aboussie is strikingly gorgeous, in my opinion. Everything about Aya Sofia is exotic yet comfortable. The waiters don't seem to mind when Lindsey asks about spelling and pronunciation of menu items. Our waiter this time even went so far as to write the name and phonetic spelling of Asure, the strange Turkish wheat pudding dessert that was a special that evening. It included nearly 20 ingredients—chickpeas, dried fruits, pomegranate seeds, nuts, etc. It isn't the kind of dessert I would crave, but it was definitely worth sharing.

To my surprise, Lindsey had gone by Noel's and picked up my engagement ring. We've been working with her for months and I've been anxious to get it. I thought she was out of town so I wouldn't have it until my birthday. But he went by her place before picking me up for dinner. So he got on bended knee and proposed all proper—even though he asked and I said yes back in September and the wedding planning train left the station a long time ago. I was delighted with his romantic gesture and we spent the rest of our dinner sitting next to each other in the booth like little dorky lovebirds cooing over each other and the ring, while belly dancers entertained. It was so fun.

My ring is a big chunky silver thing with an awesome pearl that is in this odd organic shape that I used to paint in a lot of my paintings. I really love it. Not until after I got it on Wednesday, did I begin to research the pearl. Now it seems even more to be the perfect choice.

Folklore, Legend, Healing Properties: Cultured or freshwater pearls are considered to offer the power of love, money, protection, and luck. Pearls are thought to give wisdom through experience, to quicken the laws of karma and to cement engagements and love relationships. They are thought to keep children safe. Early Chinese myths told of pearls falling from the sky when dragons fought. Ancient legend says that pearls were thought to be the tears of the gods and the Greeks believed that wearing pearls would promote marital bliss and prevent newlywed women from crying.

And Lindsey says there is a parable in the bible about a man finding a pearl in a field and burying it. He then sells all his worldly possessions in order to have enough money to buy the entire field, and thus gain the treasure. The story illustrates giving up all you have with joy in anticpation for something better (the kingdom of heaven). And since Lindsey sold half his belongings and left his life in Austin to move here to be with me...well, the story has some similiarities. I'm not suggesting life with me is anywhere near heavenly. But it is an interesting parable, nonetheless. I'm so glad we picked the pearl and that we worked on it together. Noel Leicht, the designer, has turned out to be such an incredible joy. I am going to work with her on redesignign her website. So the whole process has just been wonderful.

My parents are arriving tonight and we are celebrating my birthday and my mom's birthday tomorrow, along with doing more work on the house. It should be a nice weekend of visiting, although the frigid temperatures are a real drag. Can't wait for spring--although this has been one of the best winters for me in a long time. I think all the exercise is helping my spirits!

Bee Hunt

Super Bowl dinner party at Deb and Armando’s was really a fun affair. One of the highlights was Nicolas proudly showing me all the photos in living room and naming all the people in them. (I think he is four.) He showed me Deb and Armando’s wedding picture and then next to it was a picture of him with his sister, Isabella. “This is mine and Isabella’s wedding picture, but we didn’t go a on a bee hunt so we aren’t married.” When I figured out a few seconds later that by bee hunt, he meant honeymoon (bees…honey)—I lost it. And I don’t know if there is anything much cuter than a scrawny kid in pajamas running around wild with excitement over company.