When it rains...

I had quite the bout with illness the last seven days. I'm amazed by how many of you reached out via comments, f-book, chat, texts, calls, etc. I appreciate the outpouring of support and offers to help--so sweet on all of your parts! There were a few dicey days in there, but I'm happy to say I'm definitely on the up and up. Swallowing (and in turn breathing, drinking, eating, yawning, talking, etc.) is no longer too much of a burden and I'm regaining some strength.

But when it rains, why does it always seem to pour? Do our downcast spirits have a heightened awareness and sensitivity to the other crummy things we have going on in our lives? Or do bad things really come in threes?

I'm not too sure of the answer to that question, but I do know I finally became a police statistic. Someone smashed in my driver's side front window sometime between Tuesday and Friday (how little I drive my car when I commute to work and fall into bed immediately after getting home) and stole my GPS and the bulk of the rip-away $1 bills (in a pack of 100) my Gram gives us for Christmas every year. As annoying as it is to lose $200+ of goods from my car, the true annoyance comes from actually having to deal with this kind of situation. The glass was every where in my car -- I couldn't even move my car off the street before I swept most of the glass off the seat. Then comes the perpetual worry of your now open-to-the-world car getting stolen outright because it's perma-open to the world. The glass needs to be vacuumed, insurance and police reports filed, oh yeah, and not having a window in February in Boston. Awesome.

The silver lining to the icing on the top of a dramatic week was a) my car hasn't been stolen yet, b) it wasn't my house that got broken into, c) i didn't get my face smashed in and d) those greedy theives didn't steal my Tammy Taylor sunglasses. Right?

To celebrate the end of a craptastic week, I decided to spend the afternoon at the multi-plex. I bus and T'd myself downtown in record time (pretty sure divine intervention was making up for the fact my car was parked in the wrong place at the wrong time) and enjoyed a double feature of Slumdog Millionaire with a hotdog followed by Confessions of a Shopaholic with popcorn. Both features had a large Coke Zero. Talk about heaaaaaaaaaaven. HEAVEN. That's right folks, I travel alone and I go to movies alone.

Dinner and dessert with two of my favorite people provided another umbrella from the rain, and Saturday cemented itself as the best day of this week.

Having a car with three windows still kind of makes me nervous. But it's late and I'll have to deal with that another day!

Better off dead

There's nothing like feeling crummy to start feeling like the world is falling apart, right? It's an odd-numbered year, so it's time I got the flu. I've spent the better part of yesterday and today avoiding movement of any kind lest it aggravate my tired, sore, achy body. Wah wah wahhhh.

I think it's been about a hundred years since I did a brain dump. Far past time, and a good excuse to remember that the world isn't caving in because I've been in the same clothes too long, am wearing my glasses, and in general look like a monochromatic witch.

• I spent several hours a few weeks ago hanging photos in my room. There's something magical about actually printing photos from Costco, framing them, and hanging them. I now have a wall arranged with some of my favorite photos -- my favorite piece being a 3x3 frame filled with me and nine of my besties. I kind of love that my Grandpa is the only male in that frame.
• I went to Paris in December and as previously mentioned, I haven't stopped thinking about it since. My bathroom has kind of a Parisian theme, and my bedroom has several Eiffel towers in it now. I really do need to go back.
• A year ago this week, my girlfriends and I went to Ireland and London. Somehow in a short year's span, I became a fairly well traveled person. No international travel for me this year sadly as I'll be spending all my vacation days attending weddings.
• Holy weddings people! I haven't had a good friend get married in quite some time, and now they're just stacking up. How happy I am that the people I love are finding people to love.
  
• I'm not the kind that loves having my schedule well planned, but I have a strange obsession with travel scheduling. I'm desperately trying to get all my flights for 2009 bought--including Christmas.
  
• My country station has been playing non-stop on Pandora for the last week. I love the fact I very rarely have to even skip a song.
  
• My fascination with awards shows continues. The Grammys were a few weeks ago and I tuned in with zest. The Oscars are this weekend and despite the fact I have only seen 4% of any of the nominations, I'm eagerly counting down until Sunday night. I might actually be the last person on earth who digs award shows.
• Knock on wood, but I think we're done with snow this year. I know that's in no way true, but a girl can hope, right? The snow has all melted, and it's been in the 30's. Nothing too unmanageable, though I'm ready to shed the New England paste.
• One of my absolute biggest pet peeves in life might be when people are only your friend when they need something. Seriously?
  
• I crafted some pretty beautiful Valentines this year. I might not be the best at Christmas, birthday or Mother's/Father's day cards, but I try to do V's every year.
• Thanks to a well gifted food processor and an excellent recipe by Mal Pal, I can now make a mean homemade salsa.
• I'm going to be in Portland the end of March and am conducting a lunchtime workshop "brown bag" on cupcakes at work. A few people special requested it, and I normally make cupcakes when I go to the PDX office anyway... everyone wins this way. And I live for these kind of random things.
• I'm on my fourth Blackberry in two years. I had a wild, wild, wild ten days of Phone issues last week. Suffice it to say I now have a phone with 12 numbers in it. I've realized this is about all I talk to, so I'm not crying over the loss of all those misplaced numbers. If you haven't heard from me, it's because I don't have your number -- if I need it I'll reach out, otherwise ping me.
• If you can't come to something I plan or invite you to, a simple "sorry Nat, I can't attend" goes a looooooooooong way. Otherwise I'm just crossing you off my future invite list.
• Linda and I live in the most beautiful home. There's not much other place I'd rather be than in my room (now that it's clean and packing bin-less!) or on the couch.
  
• I did my taxes a month ago and have long since received my tax refund. The money is now sitting in savings earning interest that I can be taxed on again next year. Huzzah!
  
• I'm serious about going abroad next March or April and am interested in finding a travel partner. If you're at all interested, let me know -- let's chat it out.

Okay! I still feel crummy on the inside, but feel slightly better having given yall a few minutes to procrastinate the work or school you should be doing. Be thankful for non-flu-ed bodies!

I'm not a DVD purchaser

But when these three films were on the $5 rack at Target, it was a chance for me to reclaim my childhood summers. Late 80's viewing party at my house this weekend. Who's in?

Heaven = Sports + Pop Culture references

23. Steve Nash
He's the Jennifer Aniston of the NBA: A sympathetic figure who brings a ton to the table and just wanted to have kids (or in Nash's case, win one title), only now his window is closing and he's considering the sperm donor route (or in Nash's case, a mercy trade to a contender with a better chance of winning, like Portland). By the way, Sarver is absolutely Angelina Jolie in this analogy -- he ruined everything and doesn't even feel bad about it. The Shaq trade equals the time Jennifer's wasting by dating John Mayer -- ultimately, it's a wasted year for her ovaries. Amare Stoudemire was Brad Pitt, the guy who should have made it happen and didn't. And I think Marc Stein was Us Weekly.

--Bill Simmons, ESPN

If you don't get this, don't worry. I think the Sports Guy, Whitney W.L. and I are the only people that might fully understand this analogy, but it cracked me right up. Is it sad that I feel glee?

Who needs Halloween?

"You look elfin today. Like a Lord of the Rings elf. But in a good way."

These were the words I first heard when I got to work this morning. To her credit, I guess my long, straight blonde hair, single skinny braid pinned behind my ear, and turquoise cowl necked sweater lent itself to a rather ethereal look.

Six hours later I'm realizing she might have meant I look like Orlando Bloom.

City of Lights

Considering how much I absolutely adored Paris, it's a true shame it has taken two months to blog photos. I wasn't expecting to love the City of Lights as much as I did -- but given my brief time there, I honestly can't wait to go back. Maybe in the Spring or Fall next go round!

I arrived into the city at 7AM local time on a flight from Barcelona. G&G and Alaina had flown home to Salt Lake and I was alone for the first time in a city whose language I knew less than a handful of words. It was snowing when the bus dropped me off in the Opera District; cold, tired, and weighed down with a cruise-worth's of luggage, I'll admit that I was a bit overwhelmed. Wonder of wonders, my hotel room was ready for me and the front desk clerk didn't think twice about letting me check in. Unbelievable. So I had a place to dump my stuff, gather my strength, and take off walking.

It was the first day of December and oh so amazing being in the City with all the Christmas (Noel) decorations and shoppers. Sunday mornings must be slow; I had the city practically to myself until after noon. The hotel had supplied a map and I walked and walked and walked until my hip and knee joints ached from avoiding puddles and speed walking. I knew I'd walked an exhorbitant distance, but once I got home I realized I'd gone 15+ miles. (Now my belief that a half marathon is doable has been proven.) I saw the Louve, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, walked the Champs Elysees--and the Eiffel Tower was visible from nearly every spot in the City. (I'll admit the first time I spotted it, the upper portion was encased in fog, and I nearly cried. I must have been tired.) I bopped along to a playlist of Adele and Duffy and loved every second of being there.

Traveling alone was definitely an experience. To be honest, I really loved it. Having a French speaker would have made things easier, and I definitely want to go back to Paris with people I love, but there's was something so empowering about being there on my own; making my own decisions--turning left without telling anyone I was going to do so--and pushing myself to go and do and see more than I might have otherwise. Silly as it may seem, I was on top of the world--I felt like nothing was out of reach while I was wandering around. My senses and brain were hyper alert and firing on all cylinders. If I could navigate being alone in a foreign country, I could navigate my own life with ease. Like I said, it was an experience.

I did get tired of taking my own photo.