today

Today is one of those days.

One of the days that I feel panicky, and my heart beats fast and my head starts to swim (although that just might be my head-cold talking).
The months are slipping by. September starts on Sunday, and graduation is a mere 8 months and a week or two away.

My first blog post was one day short of 25 months ago.
I had no idea what I wanted to do with this blog, how I wanted to write, or what kind of pictures I wanted to post. I debated whether or not to include the names of my loved ones, like some blogs who always call their husband "Charming," "Handsome" or simply "Husband".
I didn't post many specifics for a long time, until I realized that was stupid and the only people reading this are my family and friends.

That first post included this summary of my blog:

This is a diary of adventures. Having just graduated from college, my new husband and I are now taking on the grand challenge of moving to the East Coast. To Virginia. We are both life-long Arizonans, yet we are encouraged by our new state's slogan, "Virginia is for Lovers!"

I was cheesy (ok, I still am) and excited and expectant, as well as insecure and shaky and overwhelmed.

The first picture in front of our apartment - dad and Dusty unloading.
We still hadn't even stepped inside!

Empty - so much potential there. 

Mom and I working on thrifted furniture. 

My "Arizona window", which lasted maybe a few weeks before I killed them all.

One of the things that makes me laugh the most is trying to go back and embody that person I was, remembering all of my thoughts and expectations when we arrived. This place is going to be clean all the time (HA). I'm going to garden. I will have a window with thriving plants (now dead and buried). I'm going to learn to cook. I'm going to be fresh and fit and fancy. 
I remember feeling like creating that "Arizona window" embodied all of those wifely things, this tiny clean kitchen and this new blog. A new me was beginning.

Which was actually true - Dusty and I were talking the other day about how much we've changed.
I asked him what he thought was different about me, from then to now, and he said that I am confident and funny, that I make him laugh all the time. I've become a stronger person, despite not checking off all of those "good wife" checklists. And in the long run, I don't think Dusty cared all that much that I killed the Arizona window, because he didn't marry me because of my (lack of) gardening skills.
I can point to many things we've done well, and many things we've fallen short of, in our expectations of moving out here. We still have to work hard to keep things clean in our little place, we rescued two kittens, which wasn't in the (Dusty's) plan. It took me about two years to "finish" the guest room, and it's still a work in progress. That first year we ate out way too much, probably a manifestation of our homesickness that culminated into culinary laziness. We gained weight and stopped cooking as much, and I lost that sense of creativity in the kitchen. Taco Bell was the salve to my wounds, some of which I didn't even realize I had.
It was a mechanism for comfort, I suppose.

Some of the things we did right?

Luna Lovegood. Evangeline. Making each other laugh, being silly. Not taking law school too seriously. Intentionally becoming a part of the law wives. Making friends. Trying new restaurants. Traveling. Winter Wonderland. Summer 12. Embracing our cluttered, fort-like home. Loving each other. Starting my blogs. Putting each other first. Being adventurous. Falling in love with Virginia.

During the first month of my blogging, I wrote another post on the day my mom and grandma left.
I said,

Tonight will be the beginning of a long and wonderful three years of togetherness for Dusty and I, wherein we will be changed and strengthened and blessed by all that we encounter.
During one of my bouts of tears and sadness this afternoon, I simply said, "Well, this is the price of going on an adventure."

What no one told me was that there would be a second price.
Another time to pay up...saying goodbye to that adventure.
I know some of you may be thinking that this is way too early to be sad, way too early to start the process of preparing myself to move.
But honestly, I'm going to need every single day to prepare. I already get teary-eyed thinking about it. I suppose I never spent much time thinking about these three years coming to an end - because we had no idea what that would look like, and we still don't. There's a lot of unknowns and a lot of apprehension, coupled with the excitement of moving back to our beloved Arizona.
The problem is... I'm not wholly Arizonan any longer. I fell in love with this place and the people and the memories it holds. Our silly little apartment and our favorite haunts. I'm going to be leaving part of my heart here when we leave.
But...that, my friends, is the price of going on an adventure.
One I'd be happy to pay again and again.

the long weekend

I have completely forgotten how to be by myself.

I'm actually pretty impressed that I managed it. Dusty was gone all weekend for a Mediation Tournament (for those of you who don't know what that is, go ahead and Google it because I'm certain I'd only confuse you more).
Because I'm an introvert at heart, I was actually kind of excited for the chance to reconnect with my fascinating self.
But come to find out, BAM. I am really boring to be around.

I have melded into Dusty's wife. We have become one. I am no longer on my own, and I get really lonely when he's away. It was a weird realization. I couldn't fall asleep, I had to keep a light on, everything was quiet, I had to turn on a fan and put on music...it was sad. Even with no one else around to witness it, I knew in my heart that it was sad.
Friday night was a blur, and I was in the throws of depression already from watching Downton Abbey so we'll just skip that.
Saturday, I was proud of myself. I got up. I got dressed. I was cute. I went downtown, fancy downtown, and I sat in my favorite coffee shop and read in my favorite nook all day long.

As you can see, they transformed this old store front, complete with its platformed window displays, into little reading nooks. Complete with comfy chairs, side tables and lamps. It's picture perfect.
The coffee shop/bookstore continues back into a quaint ensemble of wooden floors, hanging lights, Tolkien-inspired art and freshly roasted coffee.
They have the most delicious breakfast and lunch menu...they feature local produce and meat, and they use dairy products from a local farm. Their milk and cream and goat cheese is divine. 
This is the second time I've spent an entire Saturday there, and I hope it's not the last. I dream about it when I'm not there, and never want to leave once I am there.

My only complaint?
People sneaking in on my window display.
Excuse me, does this look like a double-display of fashionable mannequins at a local Belk? I don't think so!
This is a one person nook, despite the two chairs, no arguments, please.
My feet aren't just propped here for comfort...they're the signal that says, "Do not Enter".
Punishable by glare.

Maybe it's just me, but I would never climb those stairs and crawl over a stranger's happy, reading self to get to the other chair in that cozy little haven. It's too personal. It's too perfect. Too intimate to interrupt.
But, I had two different people awkwardly come and go while I was enjoying my stay.
One of the girls took her shoes off.
Please explain this behavior to me.


That afternoon, once I finished my last sip of iced lavender latte, I decided it was time to head home.
I ran a few errands, and then arrived at my empty apartment.
It was quiet again. Too quiet.
So I watched an entire season of America's Next Top Model. Yeah, that happened.
I'm not proud of it, and yet, I can't really bring myself to regret it.

The evening's progression.

I simply can't resist a cat, particularly a purring one. 

They are the cleanest, cunningest, and most intelligent things I know, 

outside of the girl you love, of course.

-Mark Twain

I stumbled into bed with Enya playing in my ear, and Sunday morning dawned bright and lovely.

I spent the day with Disney, playing Tangled, Mulan and Gnomeo and Juliet while cleaning the house. 

I thoroughly cleaned every inch of the place, and felt extremely accomplished by the end!

I also fixed a yummy casserole dinner and ran out to buy Dusty some new clothes in celebration of his qualification for nationals! 

He's going to be heading to Chicago in April to compete. So exciting!

What a weekend. 

I'm glad to have my husband back, and there are only 10 days until we fly away to LONDON!

I can hardly believe it. London and Paris, here we come!

Considering my issues with packing...I should probably start now.

:)

In love,

Cait

how can teeth be wise?

A few months before Dusty and I got married, I had to have my wisdom teeth out.
It was a rather horrific experience, but happily, I don't remember most of it.
I flew home to Arizona for an early Friday morning procedure, and flew back to California on Sunday.
In between, mom cared for me constantly, and I was in pretty bad shape. I slept most of the time and was in a daze of pain and grossness. I'm really glad I was home and didn't have to worry about things!

Sadly, ten days ago, it was Dusty's turn.
He had his wisdom teeth for years, but they were finally giving him enough trouble that our local dentist said, it's time. Let's just get these suckers out.

February 8th was the day - 11am procedure.
I dropped him off, grabbed Starbucks, and came back to wait. They wanted me there the entire time, in case anything went wrong or they needed me for some unforeseen reason.
Plus I have a feeling they really didn't want a drugged up, half-conscious swollen man waiting for his ride.
I sat reading, and it was quite pleasant.

I was surprised to find that it was only 45 minutes later when the nurse came out and called my name.

I gotta say, the next few hours were not fun for me. Walking into that operating room, seeing Dusty completely unconscious and already swelling...it was disconcerting.
Then, as if the nurse knew this was already nightmarish, she points to the back counter and says, "Do you know if he would want these?" as she points to four grisly teeth on a bloody napkin.
"Gawd, no!" I said, appalled. She then goes on to explain that sometimes, people ask for them after she's already disposed of them, and she wanted to make sure...
It was then that Dusty decided to wake up.
From behind me, I hear, "Graawwwrrrrrrgggg."
I suddenly felt like I knew what Frankenstein felt like, when he first met his newly living Monster.
He's aliiiiiive!
I bent over to his side, "Ohh, hi, honey! I'm sorry...did you want to keep your teeth?"
He nodded enthusiastically.
The nurse smiled, like she knew he would want to keep them all along, and flipped them all into an appropriate little medical baggy.
I took them from her and showed them to Dusty. "See? Look at that! Gross!"

His eyes took a while to focus, and then his eyebrows drew together in an angry scowl.
He jabbed at the bag with his finger, "Garrumpphh dratarrrr! Arrrgggurtarga, braaannn terrrrka!"
I just smiled and tried not to laugh, because neither of us would never know what he was trying to yell.

I was extremely impressed with how well he could walk. Occasionally he would try and walk forward without the nurse and I, and nearly fall, before holding his arms back out for us to help, with a "Ha ha, ha ha".
He even tried holding the door open for us.
Isn't it funny how things like that are embedded in a gentleman, even in an obliterated state?
I got him in the car semi-successfully...he stumbled and fell to the side a little, but didn't hit his face, which was the main goal.
I took a video of him in the car, and then he was out for the rest of the ride.
He would occasionally jerk awake when the car bumped or swerved a little, with a big gasp.
By the time we got home, I had to wake him up again.
"Okay, stay in here, okay? I'm coming around to get you...don't move...ok? Don't move."
I opened his side of the door and reached in to grab his arms, but he wouldn't come out.
He kept reaching behind him, trying to grab anything he could reach.
"You...yoooo...want yer...star, rrrr, bucksss? You..."
I was almost hysterical. "No! Honey, thank you, that's okay, you're so sweet...I'll get that later, now c'mon!"
He lumbered along with me, happy go lucky.
Once we were inside and I turned around to lock the door, he wriggled out of my grasp and stumbled headlong over the coffee table and onto the couch.
He couldn't smile, but that weird laugh came out again. "Ha ha, ha ha" and he didn't seem hurt.
Not that anything could phase him at this point.

Before he conked out, he struggled to speak again -- I think he was trying to say, "Is it okay that I sleep?" but it sounded like something King Kong would say while trying to steal a pretty blonde from a New York skyscraper.

It was pretty happy there, for a while.

I read and cuddled up with Eva while switching Dusty's frozen peas from one cheek to the other every half an hour or so.
Around 3pm, I tried to wake him up so we could switch out his gauze.
I was worried about keeping them in there too long; the doctor said we could switch them around 1pm, so I had already waited longer than that.
He didn't want to wake up, and once we got the used-up gauze out of his mouth...he just passed out.
I'm not even kidding, my mind was working in overload. I realized with sudden horror that I had no idea how to handle anything remotely close to this. I was absolutely useless in a crisis situation.
Every single drop of blood drained from his face, his head fell forward, and he started shaking and breathing really hard. I honestly thought he might die, and there was nothing in the world that I could do.
Not only am I useless, I'm a drama queen.
I grabbed my phone and called the dentist, while trying to get him to wake up. He was too heavy to move, and I was afraid to push his head back or move it around.

It was not a happy moment.
I made him a smoothie and tried to get some nutrients in him, to prevent him from passing out again. He needed fluids and some sustenance.
He definitely improved as the day went on, but I realized in that moment that I really, really love my husband. And I'm just not okay with seeing him in danger.
Also, I think I need some sort of medical training because I'm a complete nincompoop.

He stayed swollen but got better and better, and now he's just as studly as ever.
So glad that little spell is behind us!




In love,
Cait

the super bowl!

It's kind of crazy to think that this is our second Super Bowl here in Lynchburg, Virginia.

I clearly remember last year's Super Bowl. It seemed like a new milestone for our friendships, one of the first big parties we had all together. I remember feeling nervous and excited to go, holding Dusty's hand and saying, "I'm so glad we have friends here!!"

Super Bowl Sunday, 2012.

It was one of the first of many get-togethers with these folks.
This picture is hanging up in our upstairs hallway, along with pictures from our St. Patrick's Day party, and our trip to Washington D.C.

This year, we had our Super Bowl party over at Greg and Allison's place!
Once again, I had no idea who was playing. But I asked Dusty what colors to wear, and settled for wearing purple pants and a top with a kitten singing into a microphone for good measure.
Go Ravens! My enthusiasm obviously helped them into victory.

It was a great night. We ate way too much (pizza bites, mini burgers, chips and salsa, bacon-wrapped water chestnuts which were holy-moley delicious, hot wings...) and had both awwww and ewwww reactions to the various Super Bowl commercials.
For most of the night I'd wander into the kitchen for more snacks during game time, and resume my seat in the living room for the commercials. Classic.

It was a really great night! Lots of laughter and intrigue, what with the stadium black-out (is Beyonce involved with the Illuminati?) and the surprisingly exciting game.
We laughed at the plethora of memes that seemed to pop up within seconds of the black-out. We all complained of full stomachs. But we ate more anyway.

We cried a little at the Budweiser commercial with the faithful Clydesdale. We vomited a little when we saw the hairy lip of a red-cheeked nerd slobbering all over the face of a desperate-for-money blonde chick.
But most of all, we enjoyed each other's company.

You can't really beat candid shots.
And this one is begging to be captioned.

 Our friends!

Once we started doing Beyonce impressions, the camera needed to stop.
While I cannot and will not show some more intensely Beyonce-ish pictures, they definitely had us laughing ourselves to death.

Another great night in Lynchburg. :)

Valentine's Day is swiftly approaching, and even Spring Break is sneaking its way over here!
I wonder what the rest of the this semester will hold? :)

In love,
Cait