Never a bad time for a French grammar lesson...

It is no secret that I LOVE watching TV and movies. I love them like Laura loves reading! Along the same lines, I thoroughly enjoy introducing my wife to movies and shows that I have enjoyed over the years. Sometimes they take (The Goonies, House), and sometimes they don't (80's John Cusack Movies). Regardless, I am thankful that she patiently watches even the "bad" ones as I try to introduce my cinematic fetish of sorts to her.

Perhaps the biggest success has been Gilmore Girls. I have watched this show since its second season, and was mortified when the final episode of season seven marked the end of the show. Although it does not typify the genre that attracts most men, I absolutely love the witty and satirical writing on the show. Laura began to like watching the re-runs that dominate late afternoon cable TV, and while she was in China she found the first six seasons relatively cheap (one of the best gifts... EVER!). Since that time, we have slowly started watching every episode.

A funny thing happend while watching one episode though. A strange lesson in French grammar. Here is the exerpt from the episode:

Lorelei: "The plural of cul-de-sac is culs-de-sac? That doesn't even sound like English."

Rory: "That's because it's French."

As you can imagine, I faced a dilema. All this time, and my blog title isn't even grammatically correct! Not that anyone ever called me out on it, or even noticed, but in order to uphold my strong belief that the English language is being destroyed by informal methods of communication (Twitter, Facebook, even Blogs), I feel I must make the change. I will do my part to restore proper English usage, even if it means starting with French!

An Indian Shooting a Star is Worth Nothing (Nor Was it Ever)

A while back, one of the ladies that I work with brought in Tootsie Pops to fill the office candy jar. It immediately brought back memories of my childhood, and how I was on team Tootsie Pop and not team Blow Pop (I'm still probably in the minority now, huh?). Regardless, it also reminded me of the good old days when I would anxiously wait to unwrap my Tootsie Pop and search the wrapper for the picture of an indian shooting a star with a bow and arrow. The reason? So that I could cash that in at the local candy shop (aka grocery store, 7/11, or gas station) for a free Tootsie Pop! Everyone knew about this exchange, right?

Wrong! The ladies at work looked at me like I was crazy. As I disguised my sweet tooth's desire for a Tootsie Pop for merely a search for such a wrapper, I indulged in a few samples from the jar over the next couple of days. Finally, I uncovered one with the indian shooting a star. After instructing the ladies that I work with of the exchange policy, and how I did it all the time as a child, they were somewhat intrigued (or just appeasing one of my daily rants).

Now, I must retract my statement about how I did this all the time in my youth. I used myself as an example since I knew so many other kids who knew someone (and so on), that it was safe to say I did it too.

Upon talking up the prize of the candy world, I decided to look up the legend for the ladies. Surely the internet would verify my claim!

Nope.

Apparently this is an "Urban Legend" and the company has never authorized the exchange of the somewhat rare (1 in 3 wrappers sport the picture) wrapper for another Tootsie Pop. Where the rumor started is a mystery in itself, however, the rumor was so widely spread that some stores would in fact make the exchange for kids.

Perhaps I was naive in my youth to believe such stories from friends (of friends of friends), but it was more fun to believe than not to. Just another example of a fun story from my childhood being shot down. Being a gullible adult is no fun.

Weekend in Review

After the long work week, you always want to reward yourself with a nice relaxing weekend, right? So, Friday afternoon I shock treated the well (water supply for you "Cul-de-sac" people) since it had started to get a sulfur smell. I had treated it with a chlorine solution last weekend, but a faint odor remained. This meant no use of the house faucets for 18 hours. The relaxing weekend had begun!

Next, what would be the ultimate in relaxing, romantic friday night for my wife and I? How about shelling lima beans? Yup, that sounds good! I can't believe that when I was pursuing Laura that I didn't break out this date night idea! In all honesty, it was not bad, and it was somewhat relaxing sitting on the sofa next to Laura, talking and shelling. It was a date though. After all, we were watching the movie "Date Night". It's safe to say that our date night was less eventful than Steve and Tina's.

Saturday morning found us blanching beans and getting them in the freezer (it's the date that keeps giving!). Once that was done, we got a call from Mom and Bruce who were on there way to his mother's birthday celebration, and were making good time, so they wanted to swing by and see us. After a frantic rush to get the house in company-worthy appearance, they arrived and we had a nice visit.

The afternoon plans were to meet our friend Michelle at the local car dealership to test drive some vehicles with her. The vehicles she was looking at were the Ford Escape, Mazda CX-7, and Hyundai Santa Fe. While any new vehicle is appealing, it was clear that the Hyundai was the best option for our friend. After that, she asked if we would got to another dealer and go for a ride in a vehicle she had test-driven the week before for a second (and third) opinion. The last test drive was the Kia Sorento, which pleasantly surprised both Laura and I. It will be a tough decision for Michelle, but in the end I think both are reasonable vehicles.

Sunday morning started with sleeping in, and then church. After church, it was back to the house for lunch, football, and lawn mowing for me, and to school for Laura. Fortunately, we were able to get everything done, and manage to actually "relax" while watching The Amazing Race at night.

And that is our weekend in review. Back to work tomorrow.

De-Linked?!?

So, a funny thing happened on the way to blogging... I stopped updating. Ok, so maybe that isn't very funny, but my serious blogger of a wife (one of the things I love about her) threatened to "de-link" my blog on her blog site if I didn't update it. Of course I was probably calling her bluff since she made her threat about a month ago. I felt bad for not updating more often, but I never think about topics during my day, and I am one who believes that a blog isn't very exciting without pictures. I need to learn to document my life a little bit better with my new camera.

Obviously, a lot has happened since I last blogged. I will skip to the most recent events.

Did anyone notice that football started? I know that I did. Unfortunately for my wife, she also noticed. Last Sunday I spent the afternoon watching football ALL AFTERNOON. I believe that it was around eight o'clock at night when I finally changed the channel, and Laura states "I never realized how much I don't like football". Hmmm... is this marriage doomed from the start? I am only kidding!!! There are only a few times that I absolutely MUST watch football on Sunday. If the Patriots are being televised on local TV, or if there is some playoff implication, I can normally make watching the games a priority. All other circumstances I can justify doing something else (maybe more productive) with my time. I'll have to make sure that Laura is able to flex some "polite assertiveness" on Sundays.

Transitively, when football starts, so does fantasy football! I am a member of only one league, and it is a free league, so I might be considered a novice at the hobby, but it can certainly monopolize a lot of my free time. My lunch hours at work can almost entirely be devoted to research. This year, the research might have paid off. My lineup is highlighted by #1 pick Chris Johnson, Miles Austin, Jamaal Charles, Matt Forte, Jermichael Finley, and Joe Flacco (who has since been replaced by waiver-wire pick up, Michael Vick). Wish me luck!

On a relationship note, marriage is going wonderfully. Laura and I have enrolled in the local gym's biggest loser contest. We will weekly weigh-in and partake in some competitions for small prizes. The big prize in the end is a fairly sizable amount of cash ($350?), with a smaller pot for second place. We both entered the competition understanding that neither one of us really had a shot at winning money since we have both already lost a lot of weight over the last two years, but we needed a jump start to losing again. One week in and we are both off to a good start. I lost seven pounds and Laura lost three! I am very proud of my wife! Despite being ill all last week, she managed to fit in exercise when she could and ate sensibly. Hopefully, after our three month competition we will be on our way to our desired weight, and most importantly, healthy!

Married!!!

So, it has been a while since I have had a minute to update my blog (keeping up has not been as easy has I had expected, but to be fair, I have been just a little busy), but I have a minute and have commandeered Laura's laptop while she rests. Seemed like a good opportunity.

Where to start? Oh yeah, I'M MARRIED!!! It still almost seems surreal, and it has already been two weeks. It's amazing how three months (maybe a little more) of preparation culminates in one fantastic event that passes without you almost not even noticing. Regardless, Laura and I are ecstatically happy, and have certainly enjoyed our two weeks!

OK, so we got married on June 18th, and it could not have been more perfect. It was a warm, but not overly hot Friday afternoon. More than 150 of our closest friends and family attended the ceremony that was held in Laura's Poppop's backyard. The setting was amazing with white chairs forming an aisle for the processional.

One of the advantages of being the groom in the wedding, is the fact that you are not hidden from all the guests until the ceremony begins. This allowed me to visit with all the guests, many of whom I had not seen in a while, prior to the ceremony. Eventually it was time to begin the ceremony, and actually get married!

After the standard entrance of family and bridesmaids, it was time for Laura to be escorted down the aisle by her father. As they turned the corner of her Poppop's house and I got the first look at my bride in her dress. She was the most beautiful vision I have ever seen. It was the perfect dress, and she only made it look better! My heart stopped beating for the minute as they made their way up the aisle. When they finally arrived and I was given her hand, I couldn't help but think of the Chuck Wicks song, "Stealing Cinderella".

Now, while Laura and I were focused on each other, we were unable to notice all of the birds that had come to act as spectators for the nuptials. Whenever the strings trio played, the birds all congregated in the tree. Everyone we have talked to has compared them to a Disney movie. As I said, we didn't even notice them.

After we said our "I Dos" and walked down the aisle as husband and wife, it was time for pictures. I wish that I had some to post, but we don't have them back from the photographer yet. During the entire honeymoon, Laura and I kept telling each other "I can't wait to see the pictures!"

Once being announced to the crowd as husband and wife, we shared our first dance as a married couple. We danced to Little Big Town's "To Know Love". While we had originally thought that the song would be long, as neither one of us is much for dancing, it passed quickly, and gave us a minute to just talk to each other.

The reception was great, even if it felt a little rushed. Everything came together with little to no hitches. While some things might not have turned out like we had planned, none of it really mattered since we were married! We got to visit with some of our friends and family at the reception and catch up with those that we had not seen in a while. Before we knew it though, it was time for us to leave. We had made it through the ceremony, the first dance, dinner, cake cutting (and no... we didn't smash it in each other's face), and it was finally time to leave.

As my car was pulled around, we got to see the beautiful artwork that our friends had so graciously painted on the car's windows. This stayed on the car until we returned from the honeymoon.
As a farewell, the remaining guests who managed to stay for the entire reception sent us off with an aisle of sparklers. It was an interesting idea that Laura had, and we both cannot wait to see how the pictures turned out.

And so we were married, and have been for two weeks. It was a perfect afternoon, and it has only gotten better as each day together has gone by. I love my wife!

An Unexpected Gift...

This past weekend, while at her apartment, I was surprised with my wedding gift from Laura (early of course). I wasn't expecting anything from her, let alone something early so this was a complete surprise! Last month I had given Laura a Barnes & Noble Nook as her birthday gift/wedding gift (my parents all chipped in as well to further dilute the impact on my finances) since I had promised her that I would not spend much for her birthday. Regardless, I was not expecting a gift at all, and was confused when she said that she wanted to give it to me early so I could learn how to use it. It all made sense when I opened the gift.

She had gotten me a new digital camera! I was so excited! I had wanted a new one for a long time since mine was about seven years old and was about the size of a camcorder. Also working off of a comment I had made about loving panoramic pictures, she got me the new Sony Cybershot (the one that Taylor Swift advertises for). Here are a few of my first shots...

Seven... always so cute... and for some reason looks drugged here.

Panoramic picture of the front yard...

Another panoramic of the Finance Office at work. The blue stuffed monkey on top of Ruth's desk is aptly name Charles after I lost to her at the water gun race in Ocean City. Perhaps I had been a little too cocky about my abilities... it was splitting hairs though and I anxiously await a rematch. She has said "Bring it on! I need another one to name Laura!"

Now I really need to win to keep my fiance's name off a tacky carnival stuffed animal...

Wedding Prep and Peacocks

The following week was a rather busy one.

It started with doing a little wedding preparation. This involved me identifying an aspect of the wedding that was not already accounted for, and attempting to "get the ball rolling", so to speak. While the most obvious choice could have been to complete the guestbook (which I had so generously at the time volunteered to do, but failed to complete for the last two months), I focused on starting a new aspect. I began thinking about the wedding programs, both the practical literature content, as well as the presentation. Laura and I had decided that we would print our own trifold programs, and bound them with a blue and silver band that stated our names and the wedding date. My primary focus was to initiate the production of the bands. A considerable amount of thought had to go into such a task (or at least I made it considerable), as I needed to calculate how wide each band could be in order to maximize the printable space on a sheet of paper. Not easy, and also not without spoilage either. Regardless, I accomplished my task, and got them printed and all two-hundred strips of both silver and blue cut. While the strips still need to be glued together, my intent was merely to "get the ball rolling", remember?

Another interesting event this week was the arrival of an unexpected guest. While talking on the phone, I noticed my cat Pooka intently following something through the back door. Assuming that it was the usual neighorhood cat or squirel, I decided to check it out. Quite frankly surprised at what I saw, I quickly got Laura's attention and waived for her to come look. When she got to the window, I asked, "is that a... peacock?!?" She replied, "I think it is!" She quickly grabbed her camera and took pictures. While I was quickly corrected as to the identification of the bird as a peaHEN, it was nonetheless an interesting visitor.

The next morning, I woke up and the peahen was still meandering around the back yard. While having read about their potential for destruction of landscapes and vehicles, I concluded that I would attempt to "shoo her away". One must understand that as I continue, there were no other individuals around to take pictures, as I am sure that any such documentation would have surely provided a more comical depiction of the event that ensued.

Already dressed for work in my shirt and tie, this was probably not the best peahen shooing outfit, but I had anticipated a quick, victorious assault. I exited the house via the front door, and grabbed the broom. As I walked briskly to the back of the house, the creature was not overly startled by the sight of a human (bad sign). Determined, I quickly approached the bird like an elderly woman declaring, "shoo... SHOO!" This only caused the peahen to turn in the other direction toward the side yard. I quickly followed, broom in hand! When it got the the edge of the house, it made a left turn and headed for the front yard. Then, another left turn across the front yard. Realizing that I wanted to merely chase it into the woods behind my house, this was not my intention. Anyway, across the front yard it went and made yet another left and cut across the side of the house where the vehicles are located. Once past the vehicles, the pesty fowl made another left. For all who are counting, yes, that's four lefts. We are right back where we started. Perhaps I should have taken a different course of action, but riding purely on the adreneline of chasing the bird, it was impulse that drove me to follow her as she waddled around the house two more times. While the bird was not fast by any means, I never got too close for fear of it directly attacking me. Its foot (if that is indeed what they are called) size was rather large, accompanied by what appeared to be claws, was intimidating enough, but the shear size of the wing-span when it took flight a couple times (5-6 feet) was honestly frightening. I decided it was best to keep some distance.

After another eight or twelve left turns, the bird seemingly made a mistake and made a right after passing by the pickup truck. Now I was chasing it around the truck, until I stopped to take inventory of the situation. Looking over the cab of the truck, I located her. Extending its neck seemingly like a giraffe, it located me. While staring each other down (a la a bad western) I decided to change my direction! So did the peahen! Then we both stopped and we felt each other's plan of attack out. I moved to the left. She moved to the left. I went right. She went right! It was the proverbial cat and mouse game typically played between two children in movies, only here it was a grown man in shirt and tie, and a peahen! Making one last attempt, I jaunted in one direction. Arriving at the other side of the vehicle, the peahen was gone! It was nowhere to be seen, however, until it emerged from UNDER THE TRUCK on the other side! It quickly scurried to where the chase began in the back yard.

I knew that I had lost. Defeatedly, I returned the broom to the front porch and entered my vehicle. Sitting there, exhausted and unusually sweaty for work, I turned the ignition. As I put the car in reverse, I looked up to see the peahen slowly waddling into the back woods, pecking at the ground. As it slowly left my property, I thought...

VICTORY!

Farewell to LOST...

Last night marked the end of a period in my life that was complimented by of all things, a television show.

I know that it may sound trivial and absurd to identify a part of one’s life as supplanted by a television show, but LOST was most definitely a part of my life. One of my “constants”, if you will (and most LOST fans will understand the use of the term in this particular reference). Regardless of where you are at in life, or what altering event may occur, we all take refuge, or find solace in various forms. Sometimes it’s the obvious; a close friend; a parent or family member; religion; or a past experience. However, sometimes it is in the obscure, but nonetheless comforting aspects of life. A game… a blog... a bowl of ice cream… or maybe even a television show. Don’t get me wrong, it was not my whole life, and by no means would I ever correlate my existence or even my personality as a direct result of my viewing, but it was a weekly place of refuge. A weekly moment of solace.

Two years ago, during a difficult time in my life, my friends introduced me to the show by giving me their copies of the first three seasons to get me caught up to speed on the cult classic. I had resisted the urge to get into the show in the past (despite constant praise of the show’s greatness), but at the moment I had what seemed like nothing but time to kill. I would have taken any excuse to escape my life, and I could have found much worse ways to spend three or four hours every night than watching seasons past of a television show. I quickly realized why my friends had been drawn to the show. It’s writing and suspenseful nature always kept you of guard, and more importantly wanting more. Like a good book, I couldn’t put it down, or in this case resist putting in the next DVD despite the need to get sleep at one o’clock in the morning! Yes, it was THAT good!

Once I was caught up, I wanted more. I could not wait for every Tuesday night (which started out as Wednesday night) to come around! It gave me a reason to talk to friends, and even get to know some of them even better. One friend and I would get together every week to watch it, in what became a weekly ritual, and a great experience! It helped form an even better friendship.

Flash forward (as opposed to backward or sideways) two years, and I find myself a different person. I have made some new friendships, and maintained other great ones. Perhaps I no longer needed the security of a weekly television show, of all things. Perhaps I had other outlets now, and the show had run its course. Perhaps I myself was no longer “lost”, and it was time for the characters of my weekly addiction to let me go, just as a parent recognizes the maturity in their child and decides it is time to let them become the adult they were destined to become, and let go of their hand.

So, today I bid adieu to a part of my past two years. It has been a wild ride in both my weekly escape, and in the reality that encompassed the hours in between. Despite wanting more, I find myself content with its ending, and ready to move on. Thanks for the memories.

Voicemail...

In general, I like my job most days, and others it is certainly more than tolerable to go and take home a paycheck every other Friday. Also, in the current economic times I am not about to complain about having any job, period, let alone one that pays well and provides ample benefits. It is, however, human nature to focus on those aspects of life that are 'less than stellar'. I try to keep this in mind when I think about others, as I tend to find myself dwelling on their shortcomings, and not enough on what they do well, but I too revert to the pessimistic perspective from time to time.

Long story short, one of those aspects of my job that I am often times displeased with is the phone. I don't necessarily like talking on the phone (you can ask just about anyone that knows me). If it were professional to text all my peers at work, I would! Unfortunately for me, it is not, and I must at times verbally convey my message or answer a question. Secondly, the only thing worse than having to actually pick up the phone to talk to someone, is to see visually that someone wants me to call them. Here lies my dread of that little red light in the bottom corner of my phone console... the Voicemail light! Whenever I see this light on, my stomach sinks. Who could it be? What could they want? Inevitably, I always think that it is going to be some crazy question from someone who wants me to solve their problem for them (pessimistic perspective again! It's permanently linked to the Voicemail button). Regardless, it means I am going to have to pick up Alexander Graham Bell's masterpiece and talk to someone. This voicemail message was particularly upsetting, as it occurred as a direct result of my being on the phone in the first place, and missing the initial call! So here I was, on the phone in the middle of a 25 minute conversation with someone, who let's say I fail to recognize their 'positive contributions' on a regular basis, and the abhorrent light illuminates! Ugh! And why does it have to be red of all colors? Green might make me less apprehensive about the concept, but the creators of this particular unit wanted me to cringe at the sight. They succeeded!

So, as you can imagine, the pending phone conversation was going to be even worse than the current 25 minute one, right? I might as well clear the work schedule for the rest of the day, as this was going to take forever. Maybe we would have to resume it the next day! OK, all of this is perhaps a little over-dramatic, but you are surely expecting a wretched conversation ensuing. Well, nope. It was mild, really. It was merely a representative from the state calling me to let me know that he had worked on my issue regarding viewing a particular report, and to call me if I had any further trouble.

I guess that my fear was for nothing at all, and it was actually a result of a conversation I initiated. Oops... my bad.

Side-note #1: I did initiate the conversation via email, so why not continue that route?

Side-note #2: Yes, I did just ramble on what seemed like forever about a red light on my phone. This is exactly what my fiance gets from me on a daily basis, but for some reason it is one of her favorite aspects of my personality. I truly am a lucky man!

Security Guards...

At lunch time I decided that I would accomplish something that I had neglected to get done for a couple of weeks. I was going to get the marriage license for my impending marriage, of which I am ecstatically happy about and anxiously anticipating! Being 'pro-active'! Doing my part for the nuptials! That was my intent when I ventured out.

Having gathered all the information that I needed, I went to the bank to get some cash to pay for the license (the Clerk of Courts doesn't accept any other form of payments... are you serious?!? Having cash in my wallet is a luxury, and about as common as the infamous 'Jackalope'). Not a big deal though. I got the cash and headed over to the circuit court building. Entering the building, and knowing that some things had changed in the county with respect to what building each service was at, before emptying my pockets to go through the metal detectors I would ask whether or not I was in the right place. The response from the security guard,

"Whoa, are you sure you want to get married?"

I knew what was going on here. This was the "Son, do you know what you are getting into?" lecture that seemingly all tied-down men speak of to all grooms-to-be. I would be lying if I said I had not already heard it two or three times in the last couple of months. I'm game, so I'll play along.

"Uh... yeah... I'm sure"

At this point my involvement in the 'game' has ended. The security guard who was not much older than myself proceeds to ask the other 'guard' slouched over in the chair at the end of the table, "(Name), how long you been married?"

To which he mumbled, "almost 20 years..."

"and how much would you say is good and how much is bad?"

The slouching 'guard' shrugs to indicate the response "I don't know".

"Ninety percent good? eighty percent?"

Probably fed up with his co-worker's self indulgence, he replies, "Probably ninety percent good"

Now the truth comes out...

"See... now I have been married a month... actually a little more than a week. That's why I ask if you know what you are getting into."

It was all so clear now. This guy was so gung-ho about being able to finally use the line that he had heard so many times (inevitably) leading up to his own wedding! I get it now! I am happy to have provided him with the opportunity, I guess.

Side-note #1: This all could have been avoided had I gone to the correct building. After this transpired, I was told to go to the Courthouse on the other side of town.

Side-note #2: I didn't have all the information I needed, and still didn't get the license.

Personal thoughts: I hope that the first week of marriage for the gentleman didn't really feel like a month.

The Beginning of Blogging...

So, today is the day that I embark on my blogging experience. I had toyed with the idea in the past, but didn't really know how to get started, or by what means I would get my word out to the general blogging and web-surfing community. By claiming that I wanted to get my word out might imply some agenda on my part, but I assure you that my comments are void of any such persuasiveness. The comments that I will make on this forum will be to the outside observer empty of meaning, and most likely of little or no consequence to even my closest of friends. I like to ramble, and more specifically write, and this will be my outlet!

And so it came to be, "Cul-de-sacs to Cornfields" was created. After talking with my fiance weeks back about creating a blog, she asked (to paraphrase), "What's your topic? What would you blog about?" My response, in quintessential form, "I don't know." I didn't even know you had to have a topic to blog about. Do you? Perhaps you do, to which I say, this blog will probably offer no enjoyment or entertainment to you other than hearing about my daily (or weekly... monthly) encounters and thoughts. I assure you, they will not be all that exciting, but I will talk if you will listen (er. read).

However, just maybe there is a topic to my blog, and it's in the title. "Cul-de-sacs to Cornfields" is the story of my life, demographically. Born in the suburbs of our nation's capital, I lived in one of those communities that acted more like mazes to an outsider. Filled with dead-ends in the form of cul-de-sacs, it was a visual depiction of "Oops! Ran out of land to build on, time to turn around". I might speak of these communities with a tone of resentment, but that is not the case. For all of the developers' greedy self interest that went into constructing these communities... I loved it! The proximity of my closest friends was a luxury that I under appreciated at the time. They were days that I would not change. Not in a million years.

Which brings us to "Cornfields". After university studies, and a couple of 'winding roads' I find myself an eight-year resident of the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Part of the Delmarva peninsula, the region (at least Caroline County) is dominated, if not sustained by an agricultural economy. A far cry from the maze laden communities of the suburbs, the area where neighborly visits often requires motorized transportation offers a tranquil setting, where a ten mile commute to work actually takes just ten minutes. Not without its faults, I have come to call this place 'Home', and my fiance who bleeds 'John Deere Green' will forever remind me of its undeniable, and sometimes under appreciated intrinsic value.

Around here, people refer to individuals such as myself as "transplants" (sometimes with a negative connotation attached). And so my blogging begins...