February 2006

2006-02-23 10:23:43

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In case you live under a rock, I wanted to let you know that Pat and I went on our first date eight years ago today. Here's my version of what transpired. As a warning, it's not at all concise and there are no pictures, so I am sure some of you will not want to read this. And to that I say, "Pft, weakling."

Anyhoo, I was a junior at Nazareth, and I got a job working at Wink Photo as a lab rat. There, I met Frank and Sarah. Frank was Pat’s roommate and Sarah was a mutual friend of Frank and Pat’s. Both Frank and Sarah attended RIT. To back up a bit, I had a pretty mundane college experience. I had great friends, but my typical weekend nights consisted on hanging out with my girlfriends, going to the mixers, and going to bed by 2. Saturday mornings, I would work with Frank and Sarah, and they’d always tell me about these crazy parties they had. I was intrigued, so I asked Frank to let me know next time they were having a party. I would provide the ladies, which, as far as RIT goes, is as good as gold bouillon.

A couple weeks later, Frank let me know about a party they were having on the following Friday night, and I rounded up three of my girlfriends headed over to 412 Racquet Club. Sounds fancy, right? On the contrary, but that’s neither here nor there. Frank, being the delightful host he is, introduced me to his roommates and friends. When he introduced me to Pat, Pat immediately insulted my printing skills – about the worst thing you can do to a photographer-type person. I thought, “What an ass” and decided to steer clear of him for the rest of the night. The evening went on, however, and at one point, I looked over and noticed Pat sitting on the couch by himself. He looked completely drunk out of his gourd. I saw a weak spot and was determined to get him back for insulting me earlier on in the evening. When I gave him some sassmouth, he gave it right back to me. Needless to say, I was impressed in some sick sort of way. Before I knew it, Pat and I were dancing, and we danced until 4 in the morning. (Yup, two hours past my usual bedtime.)

The next day, Frank, Sarah, and I worked at the lab. Frank told me that Pat had a little crush on me. (Editor’s note: Pat told me years later that he did not say that, so I’m guessing Frank told a little fib to help his game. :)) Frank suggested we go on a double date (as he was interested in my friend Amanda). Being the busy college students that we were, it took us about a month to actually get a time when the four of us could all go out, and it ended up being a weeknight. Pat picked us up in his gray 1992 Ford Tempo, with Ani DiFranco playing on his tape deck. (Just writing that made me laugh out loud.) We went to see the Wedding Singer. After the movie, Pat dropped Amanda off since she needed to get up early the next day, and Frank, Pat, and I went to Perkins for a little snack.

I’m sure you’re all dying to know, if you don’t already, but things never worked out between Frank and Amanda.

The date was not the greatest ever – we both admit to that. We didn’t really seem to click at all, but thankfully, Pat called me up a couple days later, and we fell in love over the phone. We spent the next few nights on the phone for hours, and the rest is history, as they say.

412 Racquet club, where we met and fell in love, was demolished the very next year. The Perkins we went to is now Mamasans. The movie theater has since turned into the Rochester Athletic Club For Women. Fortunately, our relationship did not meet the same demise.

For Pat's version of the events, check out this.


2006-02-23 04:48:58

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Eight years ago today, Pat Reed and I went on our first date. Here's one of the first images documenting the courting phase.

Shortly after that, Pat took my heart and my cat hostage.

Fast-forward eight years and he has impregnated me and taken me to a second prom.

That really sums it up right there. Okay, kidding. If I have more time today, I'll bust out the real story of how it all went down.

Love you, Patty! Happy eight years!


2006-02-21 10:17:28

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Ugg. So, just like last week, I had horrible dreams the entire night following our childbirth classes. They all involved me being in the early stages of labor, and me running around like a mad woman trying to get last-minute stuff done. The scariest part about the dreams is that it could very well come true. I'm trying my best to get all of our ducks in a row, but you never really know when those little suckers are going to come, and I'm not exactly known for being a great planner.

Last night, I even tried to watch a little TV before going to bed so I would hopefully have something else on my mind when I went to sleep. Apparently, Wife Swap is not stimulating enough to make its way into dreams. Who knew??

Next week, after class, I am seriously considering watching an episode of OZ (which we've been watching via Netflix on a pretty regular basis lately). I think I would actually prefer to have dreams involving prison violence (and wondering how Adebisi keeps that little hat cocked so precariously on his head) to labor. Well, at least it would mix things up a bit.


2006-02-19 13:03:42

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We started our childbirth classes this past week, and so far so good, I guess. I didn’t learn a ton myself, as I’ve been doing lots and lots of reading, but it did give some good info for what the coach (baby daddy) can do to help out during labor. We also learned and practiced some breathing techniques – all of which made me feel like I was going to pass out. The class definitely seemed to cause me some anxiety (isn’t it supposed to do the opposite?), and I spent that entire night having dreams I was in labor. Fuuuun. Six more weeks of this, you say? Awesome.

Tuesday, we had a delightful Valentine’s Day. The last four or five years, Pat and I have decided to cook in rather than try to deal with going out to a restaurant, and we did the same this year. I bought the dessert: a mini heart-shaped carrot cake from Cheesy Eddie’s. Pat bought the other items for dinner: filet mignon, lobster tail, potatoes, asparagus, and bread. That’s right, surf ‘n’ turf, b1tches! Pat prepared the meats while I prepared the sides. It was our first time cooking lobster, so we were a little sketchy on that, but it turned out perfectly.

Saturday morning, my parents came into town briefly. My dad was fitted for a custom-made bike at Park Ave Bike shop – Apparently, there are only three places in the state that do that, and that is one of them. While my dad was getting fitted, Pat and I hung out with my mom and just caught up a bit. When my dad was done, he came to the house and we had a nice, but quick, lunch. We also gave ma and pa McCarthy a tour of the house, which was fun, because we've made tons of progress since they saw it last. We had to keep things brief though, because I had one of my baby showers in the afternoon, and Pat had his own plans, which we’ll call his man shower.

So, Saturday afternoon, we headed over to Rebecca and Bryan’s. Pat and Bryan headed to Acme to meet up with some of Pat’s boyz for his “last irresponsible afternoon of drinking.” It was great getting together with my lady friends. A couple of them I hadn’t seen in quite some time, and it was great to be surrounded by such great friends. Everybody seemed to hit it off right away and things were so nice and low-key. I just had the best time. Oh, but I'm the biggest jerk ever, because I never got a group shot of all of the girls. Luckily, Kirsten did document the scene for me. Thanks, K-money!

How excited am I about this lime green and pink Polo dress? If you don't know the answer to that, you don't know me very well.

R to L: Sara, Amy, and Makiko look on horrified. Melissa, however, looks positively tickled.

R to L: Melissa, Rachel, Kimmie, and my dumb head. Not pictured: Kirsten and Rebecca.

Pat’s last irresponsible afternoon of drinking kind of extended into the evening. One fun thing is that Pat and some of the guys came over to our house to hang out for a bit and have some coffee (kind of like a poor man’s speedball – isn’t that how John Belushi died?). I was honored that they would be interested in hanging out with me for part of the man shower. I do like to think of myself as an honorary dude; I'm glad others do as well. After their coffee, they headed back out for round II. It was just such a great day for both of us. Thanks so much to our friends who made it possible! Thanks especially to Rebecca and Amy for putting the shower together for me.

Today, I’ve been the laziest I’ve been in months. I can’t seem to get motivated, but I’m not too worried about it. For one, I could use the break, and for another, I have tomorrow off. That’s right, I have President’s Day off. Silliest holiday ever, but I am not going to complain! Um, so enjoy your President’s Day. Use it wisely.

Here's a little sumpin' extra. My latest pregnancy photo.

Notice the belly and the double chin. Just so you know, I can make fun of myself, but it's not polite for anyone else to make insensitive statements such as, "You're huge!" and "Wow, and you've still got a way to go." So please stop. The biggest offenders seem to be overweight men, which, although ironic, does still sting a bit.



Love is in the air

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As I was reading cnn at lunch today, I was feeling a little down about how un-romantic the news was this Valentine's Day. For examples, read here and here. This is why I choose to get my news from the Onion. That's more like it.

Happy Poopentine's Day, everyone.


2006-02-13 11:00:15

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Split-pea soup. Totally delicious or totally disgusting? Discuss.

Pat and I have been making some kind of soup just about every Sunday, aptly titled "Souper Sundays" (I got the idea from my brother and sister-in-law), and I asked Pat what kind of soup he wanted for this week. He said split pea. It is quite tasty, but kind of nasty at the same time. I'm so conflicted.


Won't you take me to sleepytown?

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Hey all. Sorry for being incommunicado for a while there. Apparently, some people were even starting to get nervous due to the lack of updates. Fortunately, there is nothing to fret over. All is well with us.

The biggest reason for lack of updates is that I've been generally drained lately, which just comes with the territory. I've been trying to get more sleep, which means I need to make more of the hours I'm not either sleeping or working. We're also kind of getting down to the wire for when this baby is going to come, so we've been really busy getting things in order. This includes finding a pediatrician, finding a day care center, taking care of pre-admittance forms for the hospital, birthing classes, and all of the totally bizarre things my hormones are making me do, like clean the fridge, organize the spice drawer, and purge the crap in every closet in the house. Oh, and trying to read up on everything I can having to do with babies. Reality check (I hate this term, btw): I'm the girl who only test drove one car and only applied to one college. I am not one for being too picky or doing lots of research, but I would really like to avoid messing this kid up, if at all possible.

Thankfully, we've been mixing a very good amount of fun in with all of the above lunacy. Last weekend, my best friend from high school, Taryn, and her husband, Todd, came to town to celebrate her birthday. Taryn and I went to Hicks & McCarthy for afternoon tea while the boys went on a man date to Beers of the World and House of Guitars. That evening, we got Thai from Esan, got coffee from Cibon (which has turned into some kind of sick, trendy techno-bistro), and then watched 40-Year-Old Virgin. We did other good stuff, but that was over a week ago, and I don't like to dwell on the past.

Last night, we went to a prom-themed going-away party for our friend Marcel. It was held at the Henrietta American Legion. I dare you to not have fun at an American Legion. It's impossible. In addition to a lot of fun people and good music, there were chocolate cupcakes, trophies, and wood paneling. Our friend Denise did an amazing job putting the party together. It was particularly special for me, because I got to be the token pregnant girl at the prom. Yup, my mom would be so proud. Even though I’m almost 30 and married, I have to admit it was more than a tad embarrassing to be token pregnant girl at the prom. Especially when I was crowned “prom princess” (it was a drawing, not a popular vote), and I had to dance with some poor guy I just met. Something tells me he’s never slow danced with a married, pregnant woman. It was tremendously fun though, and it was great to send Marcel off with such a great event. Yesterday, before the party, Pat and I were going through tons of old photos looking for pictures of him for his “yearbook,” and we’ve had so many fun times with him. Sigh.

Here are some new photo memories, soon to be old.

Pat, Cima, and Fran win trophies. For what? For being awesome.

Amy tries to make Fran feel not so out of place.

Fran turns 5 million shades of red after being crowned.

Sorry if this update sucks. I can’t even believe how tired I am. My brain is broke.