November...Bring it.

Yesterday a coworker looked inquisitively at me and said, "You look like the cat that ate the canary. Someone is making you happy". That woman has some strong and slightly scary powers of insight.

According to the Chinese horoscope, my good fortune should not be upon me until this Saturday. Well, I have been warranted an early release from chaos and have been granted the right of bliss. I am moving from the time entitled "Vulnerable" to that of "Glorious Breakthroughs". It says that this is my month of transformation and all the changes are excellent. Apparently it only takes one look to know that the transformation has already begun!

The cat has found the someones and the somethings, in very unexpected places. Recently I've been at the Lexington BBQ Fest and wine tasting with great friends. I also kicked one of their asses in a rematch of travel Scrabble...that would be twice now. I've also been fortunate to hike up to MacRae Peak on Grandfather Mountain. Cables and ladders and wind, oh my. The views, the company, and the landscape was so well worth the pain in my knees the next day.


And then. And then there was Halloween. As everyone knows, this is the best day of the year for me. I just love everything about it...and it really doesn't matter if it is spent by throwing a huge drunken costume party or just quietly sitting on the porch with friends...drinking wine and passing out candy. I admit that I was unprepared for the awesomeness of this one. Memorable? Just call it infamous. Friends, food, Glogg, debauchery, a legendary gay nightclub, dancing, seeing 4a and thinking that too was awesome. Just awesome.

If that weren't delightful enough, November entered my world with an extra hour of needed sleep and a smile on my face. That smile stayed all the way through to West Virginia and back...car finally came through, and the Iona plate has been reborn.

Yeah, you can call this cat happy...and I have someones to thank for that.

Pretty Has a Purpose

I will acknowledge that over the past couple months my personality has taken a beating. Some days it was bitter, others obnoxious, sometimes giddy, often angry, and rarely pretty. While I felt I was "holding it in", I knew it was bleeding out. It's one thing though when people who know you see it, it's entirely another when strangers pick up on it.

I didn't get that fact until I was out on the other side. I knew the day that I felt better, and bit-by-bit the people around me realized that it wasn't a fluke and that I would probably still be the same tomorrow. I started being referred to as "Tigger" or asked if I was "always on"...and the answer is yes. YES I AM! Right now I am wired high and I plan to stay there. I am running faster, sleeping less, and feeling better. Some might call that happy.

And it is paying off in other ways. The prettier personality has been noticed by strangers; people who have no stake in the game are getting it. The man at Costco went out of his way to get me a cart. The woman at Target told me she loved what I was wearing. The neighbor around the corner stopped to talk to me for the first time ever...even though we've lived with our backyards touching for over a year. People have been going out of their way to treat me well, and I am certain it is because they see a happy and confident person in front of them. My edge no longer fuels theirs. In the case of personality, pretty does pay off.

Would you like to try some Glogg?

This was the weekend of random awesomeness, and therefore can only be described through pictures. When someone asks you to go to IKEA, what should you say? HELL YES. Hell yes when you haven't been in over a year, the closest one is 2 hours away, someone you like to spend time with is driving, you crave meatballs, and you need napkins.

Did you know you can upgrade your meatball platter of goodness? Yes boys and girls, for only $1.00 you can get 5 more meatballs. The country is super fat for a reason.


A game of Size and Manners? Oh my. Date night?

Our IKEA trip culminated with a pass through the Marketplace to buy frozen meatballs and cookies. As we were reaching the checkout, we heard a very excited voice ask us, "Would you like to try some Glogg?". Did that man in a fake accent say Glogg? Oh what fine Swedish delicacy could Glogg be? Well for $2.99 you get a bottle of some fine tasting mulling spice-like beverage. And according to our happy and somewhat spastic man, it tastes mighty great with vodka, or rum, or wine. This key piece of information probably accounts for his giddy nature. We all left with Glogg.

Only one thing can compete with IKEA, and that would be the NC STATE FAIR! This trip was destined to be great because it came with a personal tour guide. Thank you Brad for attending the fair for 29 of your 30 young years. Thank you for not making Carl and I wander aimlessly without a path or a purpose. Otherwise I may have missed the vicious cottonball of death....

...or The Fried Dough Shop...

...or the drunken sheep made by high school students. What really are they teaching these kids out in the country?

...and I might have missed Wisconsin! It is good to know that there is a little bit of Wisconsin in every State Fair. A little bit of Hot Wisconsin Cheese to go with the Chocolate Covered Bacon aka Pig Lickers. I am speechless. And no longer hungry. No longer hungry for food ever, ever, again.


Most importantly though, I may have missed Carl's inner-Pirate. And oh what a shame that would be. Arrggh. This man looks like he knows his Glogg.

Pick a Pumpkin

Saturday was one of those silly days that reminds me of why I love this time of year. The fairs, the festivals, and the friends who come over and carve pumpkins.

Earlier in the day I was hanging out in the backseat while my friends drove all over the city looking for the best places to stop on the Parade of Homes tour. We wandered in and out of a few neighborhoods with million dollar + listings that showed potential. But before long, we realized that we had better taste than most of the home stagers, and that we'd probably all have to live together in order to make the mortgage "really work". The corgi would just not like all the stairs, so we had to decline this option.

So instead we started talking about all the upcoming Halloween activities and began ticking off the ones we'd be participating in over the next couple weeks. That made me realize that I had NO PUMPKINS. At this point I believe I was jumping around in the backseat demanding that we find a pumpkin patch. As good men do, they quickly indulged my needs.

Off to the Farmer's Market we went and within no time we were stocked with a car full of pumpkins and mums. Let the carving begin!


A little wine, some beer, a happy dog, and a yard full of men carving pumpkins. Seriously? Did someone get into my head and know that this was the day I was dreaming of? You have your fantasy...and it is fine for me to have mine.

I expect that I will get out all the decorations later this week and really make the house ready for trick-or-treaters. Where to find me on the great Hallowed Day? Of course...on the porch with the corgi, wine, and friends. Just where I should be.

Observations of Others

Most of the time, I am pretty ambivalent about the unsolicited opinions of others. Now don't get me wrong, I appreciate good criticism as a platform for improvement, and I like feedback. But some recent comments just made me pause...and laugh.

Friday was a fun day for my department. We were all in the office early so that that we could end at noon and go on a group scavenger hunt around Durham. I am a morning person, so the earlier in the day, the better. Well, some of my employees are not used to seeing me first thing in the morning and were a little unprepared for my energy level. I was talking to a couple people, when one of my managers just looks at me in shock and says, "You are a Tigger, and you so need to take it down to at least an Eeyore level". This is one I want to use again and again.

Later that day the scavenger hunt facilitator made a silly comment about me, and a coworker near me looks at him and says, "Oh no you didn't! You don't mess with the Sarah! No you don't". Apparently my Zohan alter ego has quite the reputation in the office.

A couple weeks back someone called me "fat". I acknowledge that during several points in my life this would have been a justifiable perception. I have never stressed about my weight, but I have certainly been heavier than I prefer. But now? Since August I have lost about 20 pounds and have been working out at least four times a week. I no longer have clothes that fit and I have coworkers demanding me to STOP LOSING WEIGHT. So for someone to call me fat NOW? I really, really need to just laugh this one off.

It was raining last Tuesday so Michael and I ran inside around the track, rather than along our typical outdoor route. The track sits above the basketball courts, which is also where I play volleyball. As we were rounding a turn, I could see some of our players setting up the nets so I waved down to them. After about 2.5 miles, Michael left and I went down to the courts to play. During one of our breaks, a fellow player came up to me and said, "I knew it. I knew you were a runner. I noticed last week that you have the legs of a runner". That is definitely something that no one has ever said to me before. This is an observation I want to hold onto. This one made me laugh, and more importantly, it made me smile.

Sins of the Father

I have inherited many things from my father....some amazing qualities, and some that prove more challenging. More importantly though, I have learned a lot from my dad. And most of these things I have demonstrated to be productive, inspiring and instrumental in my success as an adult. And that includes his teachings about beer.

Several of our friends and my coworkers volunteered last Saturday at the World Beer Festival in Durham. Although I still wasn't feeling well, the day was quite fun. My friend Valerie and I decided to be beer pourers, which basically meant that we set up a booth with buckets, ice and beer, and then poured 2 ounces of said beer into many, many, many small glasses.


When asked which beer booth we wanted to volunteer at, I didn't have to consider for very long. Where am I from again? Oh yeah, Wisconsin. What beer does my dad really like? That would be Leinenkugels. Where are they from? BRING IT ON, Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin.


Leinie's must have known that a local girl was working their table because they didn't even send a rep down to tell us about the beer, educate us on the seasonal brews, or provide any information what-so-ever about the product or the company. No problem, I can handle this. And handle it we did. I ended up talking to many Wisconsinites who wanted to trade tales about our happy state and all the things (Leinies included) that they cannot procure in abundance in NC. It didn't take long for Valerie to start lying and say that she too failed from cheese land. Apparently when you are drunk, a Southern accent sounds remarkably similar to my native tongue.

Each session of the festival lasts 4 hours and ours started at noon. The first hour is filled with a variety of people - those that just want to drink, those that are particular about what they try, and those that are seriously there to taste and score the selections. By the second hour, the inebriation sets in. By the third, EVERYONE is drunk. At the fourth, people no longer care what they are drinking as long as they believe there is alcohol in it. At this point it was very clear we were running out of beer, and I was a little worried that people were going to riot our little table.

Thankfully one of the guys at the booth next to us thought we were cute and really had a thing for redheads. That meant he firmly positioned himself between Valerie and I, and kept our tubs iced down and full of cold beer. Keep in mind that I don't know if we could have kept the masses happy without him. We ended up running out of all but one beer with an hour still to go, and ALL beer 30 minutes later. And the drunks kept coming.

All told, we opened 192 bottles and poured over a 1000 two-ounce tastes. All while fending off lots of leering drunks who did not mind that I am married or Valerie has a boyfriend. My favorite remains the distinguished gentleman that owns a local pizza place and was easily the age of my dad. He came around at least four times to just stand, look at me, and then remind me to "save him a slow dance". It is no wonder that by 4p, I was tired, still laughing, and needing a drink.

October Don't Fail Me

The best month EVER is here. I love October. I love fall. I LOVE, LOVE, HALLOWEEN. This is the month of scary movies, our wedding anniversary, of Halloween. Did I mention Halloween?

I expected it to come in so perfectly, but of course that was not the case. Almost immediately I fell prey to the cold/flu thing that has been traveling around both my personal and professional lives. Noooo! I need/want/deserve this to be a good month.

To give October some credit, several great things have already set their wheels in motion. I love to have things to look forward to, and my calendar is being asked to reserve dates.

For one, it appears that the lease swap vehicle I really wanted out of Ohio will come through. I still don't understand why it takes weeks to assume equity liability for someone's lease when it takes sheer hours to lease through a dealership...all through the same financing company. Whatever I guess. I just want the car. I also hear that road-tripping to Ohio in the fall is delightful. Now which weekend would be best? I better wait until the paperwork arrives on this one...

ELIZABETH IS COMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is no way I can scream that loud enough. Granted, she won't be here until next month, but I think I can last that long. Let the revelry planning begin.

Speaking of Elizabeth, she and Jason have set a wedding date and it is in Jamaica. Glorious! Plans for Spring travel can commence.

And finally, my friends are asking for visitation rights. I hadn't felt up to it before, but I do now. Here, there, and everywhere. Welcome October. Don't fail me.