tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65376732761042835582024-03-13T12:56:07.500-05:00comeback specialput your head on my shoulder, whisper in my earstacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.comBlogger162125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-61043856546402910072015-08-18T17:23:00.001-05:002015-08-18T17:23:58.489-05:00muck talk.<span style="font-size: 85%;">In less than 2 weeks, I will be mucking it up at MuckFest MS through 19 muddy obstacles over a 5K course with my team of both ill- and well-prepared MuckNuggets, all to raise funds and awareness for the National MS Society.
<br>
<br>
...man, this is hard to write... here we go. As you may or may not know, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis a little over 3 years ago. MS is a chronic and often debilitating disease that attacks the central nervous system. It can cause an array of symptoms; MS is unpredictable and affects every individual differently. I have been fortunate in so many ways. Fortunate to have excellent medical care. Fortunate to have the most incredible support system. Fortunate to be feeling really, really good. (<i>Not to brag, but have you seen my yoga moves?</i>)
<br>
<br>
I first heard about MuckFest MS last fall. I had seen ads for Walk MS and Bike MS and Run MS, and always thought, "Nope. Not me." Partially because I hate to run, don't have a bike, and barely tolerate walking to the train to get to work. But then I got an email about MuckFest MS in Chicago. I thought maybe I could do that. It looks like a muddy jungle gym. I love playgrounds. It was almost a year away and registration wasn't for months, but I forwarded it to my sister and said, "Maybe would you do this with me?"
<br>
<br>
For the next few months, I went back and forth about whether I really wanted to do it. It wasn't the athletics that were holding me back, either. A few weeks after I was diagnosed in 2012, the Walk MS event was in Chicago. I considered it for a moment, but I wasn't even ready to accept the diagnosis. I didn't know what MS was going to look like for me in 3 weeks - in 6 months - in 2 years - in 5 years... I was too afraid to be face to face with any "worst case scenarios." I was already living my worst case scenario. Worst case scenario at that time was just having MS at all. I wasn't ready for more.
<br>
<br>
Now after three years, three different medications, countless needles and banging MRI machines, cutting out gluten (<i>mostly</i>), rotating vitamin combos, and one hilarious spinal tap (<i>thanks to Todd</i>), I kind of feel ready to do something public. I wasn't hiding from my diagnosis. I didn't avoid it if it came up in conversation. But to participate in the community is something completely different.
<br>
<br>
So I bit the bullet. I registered and started a team. And the next thing I knew, we had a crew of 14 Chicken MuckNuggets! I didn't initially plan to do any fundraising, but the reaction from my friends/family and their enthusiasm to join me in this muddy adventure lit a fire inside me. To date, we have raised $3,000 in support of the National MS Society and their mission. Every time we receive a new donation, no matter the size, my heart fills with pride and love and so many feelings. My eyes well with tears every. single. time. I am overwhelmed by the generosity I have seen from people. And "Thank You" just doesn't even begin to express the extent of my gratitude.
<br>
<br>
Like I said, I am fortunate in so many ways. I have been living with MS for over three years. I have accepted my new reality for now, but the thing that keeps me from fearing the next "worst case scenario" is learning about the medical breakthroughs that happen everyday. <b>I believe that we will find a cure for MS in my lifetime.</b> That is where all of these fundraising dollars are going. To end MS forever. But for now, I am celebrating my health at MuckFest MS next weekend with my incredible team, who I love so much. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your support. Thank you for reading this. Thank you for being a friend.
<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR/MuckFest/ILDMUCKEvents?px=13615757&pg=personal&fr_id=25082" target="_blank" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jpzUQ2lQpAQ/VdNdnuvdXoI/AAAAAAAALMY/UCax0NynH14/s400/MFMS_2014DigitalDownloads_Badge_fp.jpg" /></a></div>
<center><i>To make a donation to our team, <a href="http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR/MuckFest/ILDMUCKEvents?px=13615757&pg=personal&fr_id=25082" target="_blank">visit my fundraising page</a>!</i></center>
<br>
</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-66511044058520583062015-08-04T15:26:00.000-05:002015-08-04T15:26:35.057-05:00getting unstuck.<span style="font-size: 85%;">I'm stuck. Not stuck in a sad way, but stuck in that way you get stuck when you are anticipating the unknown with both excitement and trepidation. I have passed a number of milestones in life already, but for some reason this next chapter has me standing like a deer in headlights.
<br>
<br>
According to the rules of life, I am a grown up. I am over 30, employed, insured, married, and I just finished paying off my car loan. Writing it out like that makes it look way more responsible than I actually feel. There are still many things that I don't do that a grown-ass-woman probably should. Like make dinner occasionally (<i>on the stove or in the oven - not in the microwave</i>), get out of bed before 11am on the weekends... or before 8am on the weekdays, shower regularly (<i>kidding... not really...</i>), go to the dentist, maybe to the gym, maybe the unpack those last few boxes from when we moved two years ago... am I painting a clear picture for you? For every responsibility there is an equal and opposite irresponsibility. Isn't that what Newton said? No?
<br>
<br>
We have one year left on our current lease, and while we love our apartment and our neighborhood we can't help but think forward to the next phase of our life. Do we buy something and put our money towards property that we own, or continue renting until we are ready to leave the city? When would we want to leave the city? And that leads to the question that people inevitably start asking after you've been married for two years (<i>if they've even waited that long</i>) - what about kids? When? How many? If we buy a house next year, would we regret leaving the city so soon? If we buy a condo, it would need to be baby-hauling friendly. Babies don't care if they have a yard, but I definitely care about lugging a stroller and other baby accouterments (<i>oh, and also the baby</i>) up and down multiple flights of stairs - no matter how gorgeous the balcony may be and how close we are to the Square. Can we even afford any of this? How do you know? WHAT IS A BUDGET?
<br>
<br>
Picture me now like when Dr. Grant and Lex are nose to nose with the T-Rex in Jurassic Park: "Don't. Move. He can't see us if we don't move." "He", in my scenario, I suppose would be Life? Father Time? The Responsibility Monster? It's hard to tell. At least I'm not being chased by a T-Rex. We've gotten away from the point.
<br>
<br>
I think I am so afraid of making the <i>wrong</i> decision that I have found myself too afraid to make any decision at all. I can't even help decide where we should go on vacation this year, because it all seems too overwhelming. What places do we want to see "before we have kids"? What about before I am pregnant? Will I be pregnant next year?? Oh god, should we take a BIG trip this year? Oh god, is this our last summer before we're having kids?? And now it's August and we have made no plans. Any suggestions?? Seriously. I need help.
<br>
<br>
I know this probably seems frivolous to some, and maybe relatable to others, but it's where I'm at. Feeling like I've hit a roadblock and I'm stuck here trying to figure out how best to climb over it (<i>ladder? chair? catapult?</i>) and what could possibly be on the other side, when I should really just walk around it and let things happen.</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-76594650916075554702014-10-16T23:33:00.000-05:002014-10-17T01:34:21.483-05:00dirty thirty. like dirt.<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i>So yes, maybe I have been working on this post for the past 12 months. But I really just couldn't handle how special my 30th was. So get ready for a LONG post with LOTS of pictures, which were taken exactly one year ago.</i>
<br />
<br />
Last year, leading up to my 30th birthday, I painted my nails dark red and realized that my hands now look like my mom's. Not as much as my sister's do, but that's because she got Mom's craftsman skills and uses them every day. I had gotten my hair cut short again while I was visiting Justin in AZ for his/Todd's birthdays at the beginning of October, and his stylist told me my grey hair was "perfect." It's not so bad being 30, I thought.<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ghx_eFRhfIU/VECmN6B3AhI/AAAAAAAAHtM/GpOh93J5cQU/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2014-10-16%2Bat%2B11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ghx_eFRhfIU/VECmN6B3AhI/AAAAAAAAHtM/GpOh93J5cQU/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2014-10-16%2Bat%2B11.jpg" /></a></div><br>
I was feeling good about my birthday weekend - but also apprehensive. Like, excited nervousness. You see, many years ago I showed Todd a cake and said, "Todd, this is the cake I want you to buy for my surprise 30th birthday party." And that was sort of the end of it. We joked about it a couple times in the following years (<i>i.e. I dropped not-so-subtle hints about my "surprise" 30th birthday</i>), but I gave him no direction whatsoever. Just a cake. Earlier in the year, I knew he was starting to plan something because I straight up asked him, "Are we going to Disney World for my birthday? I just have to know so I don't make a disappointed face, even if I'm not actually disappointed with what we <i>are</i> doing." He said no. So I made the disappointed face. But he said it was because he wanted more of my friends to be able to come. I was sad we would not be celebrating at The Happiest Place on Earth, but I was also really excited to know that he was actually thinking about it and trying to make plans.
<br />
<br />
And then I started to psych myself out. I always pictured seeing my best friends' faces and laughing and drinking and smiling all night. But all my friends had just come to Chicago in May (<i>you know, for our wedding</i>), and I would not, could not, be mad at them for missing a birthday party after just traveling to be a part of another super special celebration. So I was mentally preparing myself for something smaller than I had originally pictured, and was practicing my "happy-face". I knew Todd was working so hard to plan something special, and whatever it was going to be would be just right. When it came time to pack, he said, "Pack for Wisconsin." I said, "Wisconsin? Like inside, or outside?" And he said, "Yes." Cool. Thanks for the help.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m9Q4dtXbMxA/VECafFGLH1I/AAAAAAAAHqo/eaRDcG1-84I/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2014-10-16%2Bat%2B11.23.55%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m9Q4dtXbMxA/VECafFGLH1I/AAAAAAAAHqo/eaRDcG1-84I/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2014-10-16%2Bat%2B11.23.55%2BPM.png" /></a></div><br>
On the eve of my birthday, we left work and drove to his parents house. I had been texting with Justin all afternoon about how Todd was taking me to the woods for ritual sacrifice on my 30th birthday. Todd was stressed out because there was traffic and "we had dinner reservations." I <i>really</i> knew something was up when we pulled in his parents' driveway and the kitchen window shade was closed. (<i>It's never closed. Something was happening inside there!</i>) We walked in the front door, and his parents were sitting in the living room, very suspiciously nonchalant. I gave them hugs and kisses, and then as I walked past the kitchen, I hear "SURPRISE!!!" in two of my favorite lady-voices! I turn around just in time to be jumped on by <a href="http://staceyemitchell.blogspot.com/2011/10/heart-and-soul.html" target="_blank"><font color="#088A29">Shay and A</font></a>, who flew from NYC and DC. Oddly enough, the first face I actually saw was Matt - Shay's new bf, who I had not yet met - and I remember thinking... "Oh hey, Matt is here waitaminuteWHAT??" and then I was tackled.<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oSuMB8P3I0M/VECcKS_lW3I/AAAAAAAAHq8/M5ompAtU7MI/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B17%2C%2B8%2B59%2B57%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oSuMB8P3I0M/VECcKS_lW3I/AAAAAAAAHq8/M5ompAtU7MI/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B17%2C%2B8%2B59%2B57%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div><br>
My mother in law had prepared quite a spread - as usual - so we sat down to eat and give my heart a rest, and Todd went out to the car to get our bags. When he came back in, I turned around and following him through the door was Justin. That jerk had been texting me all day in airports. I covered my face with my hands and he teased me with some profanity not fit for in-laws. When I looked up again, there were Brandon (brother) and Shane (bf) right behind him. They all flew in from Phoenix just for me.<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fq6BvpfJpts/VECdwPqUkMI/AAAAAAAAHrQ/qHGYNoKrdPs/s1600/C360_2013-10-17-20-46-22-948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fq6BvpfJpts/VECdwPqUkMI/AAAAAAAAHrQ/qHGYNoKrdPs/s400/C360_2013-10-17-20-46-22-948.jpg" /></a></div><br>
After things settled down, I asked if this was it. Like, this is plenty. So many people I love - (<i>and I knew Dom and Kristen were joining the next day from Chicago</i>) - just hanging out all weekend in Milwaukee. I'm good. This is so good. But no. One more surprise tomorrow, and no one would tell me where we were going. So the next morning, we packed up again and hit the road. It was a beautifully sunny day to turn 30. We drove west from Milwaukee into the depths of Wisconsin for about 45 minutes and got off the highway in the middle of nowhere. We went down country roads, and I was pretty sure the ritual sacrifice was becoming a real possibility. We turned down a residential road and I saw a lake and thought "Aww, lake house! Yay!" When we got to the end of the road there was a very cute old sign for "Wandawega Lake Resort" and I said "Todd, look at that cute sign! Did you see it?" And then we turned into a gravel drive. I saw an open field with archery... and a tire swing - omg... and a TREEHOUSE... and then I screamed at him, "WE'RE AT CAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMPPPPP!!!!!" I was grinning from ear to ear, jumped out of the car and ran to the tire swing shouting "Somebody push me!" Yep. That's how I turned 30 years old. On a tire swing.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q9W9k3uRSOM/VECdOIP1DaI/AAAAAAAAHrI/eLIq9vsjoVo/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B12%2B25%2B56%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q9W9k3uRSOM/VECdOIP1DaI/AAAAAAAAHrI/eLIq9vsjoVo/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B12%2B25%2B56%2BPM.jpg" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dc0b_W_LIQ0/VECp9XuR6_I/AAAAAAAAHt4/WHdGkQYUtWI/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B1%2B27%2B32%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dc0b_W_LIQ0/VECp9XuR6_I/AAAAAAAAHt4/WHdGkQYUtWI/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B1%2B27%2B32%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
In the last year, Camp Wandawega has blown up in the media. They have been all over the blogs, in the news, on an episode of Tree House Masters. It's incredible. But at that point, I feel like it was still relatively under the radar - except I <i>had</i> seen it before. I had pinned <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/32440059785395286/" target="_blank"><font color="#088A29">this image</a></font> of my dream grown-up treehouse. And there it was. Right before my very eyes. And that evening, after Kristen and Dom and Leah and Dianna had all arrived to join us for archery, tire swinging, treehouse mimosas and dinner at a "Friday Night Fish Fry" (<i>which is apparently a thing in Wisconsin</i>), we sat at that very table under those very lights in that very treehouse and Todd brought out my birthday cake. Not only did I open my eyes and shout "MY SPRINKLE CAAAAAAKE!!!" but when we cut into it, the cake was a Golden Delight. Just like the ones at every single graduation party from high school. You know the ones: light angel-food style cake with whipped cream style frosting layers that have sliced strawberries laid in them... My mouth is watering. It was a deliciously happy-accident on his part. (<i>See what I did there?</i>) My mother-in-law was in charge of the cake, and I believe his main instructions were just "Covered in sprinkles. Like, no icing should be visible." They nailed it.<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CHpP6mb-aFI/VECf9YIwOyI/AAAAAAAAHr0/C548qtMX3CM/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B6%2B07%2B43%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CHpP6mb-aFI/VECf9YIwOyI/AAAAAAAAHr0/C548qtMX3CM/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B6%2B07%2B43%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ozeUyFSlUbA/VECe2-OcBwI/AAAAAAAAHrc/CFnW6D-6xqg/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B8%2B57%2B24%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ozeUyFSlUbA/VECe2-OcBwI/AAAAAAAAHrc/CFnW6D-6xqg/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B8%2B57%2B24%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
The rest of the weekend included bunking in the old "hotel" building (<i>aka "house of ill-repute"</i>) with incredible lake views, hot whiskey-ciders made on the vintage stove, hikes (<i>yes, a couple friends got briefly lost</i>), one exhausting canoe/row-boat outing, hanging out in tee-pees, bonfires, dirty-catch-phrase, and spending 4-5 straight hours taking turns on the rope-swing over the lake set to the weekend anthem: "Wrecking Ball" by Miley Cyrus. It really is the perfect rope swinging song.<br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FTZ0dFu2gdY/VECqc6nyptI/AAAAAAAAHuQ/mGsoD0iiD_M/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B6%2B31%2B17%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FTZ0dFu2gdY/VECqc6nyptI/AAAAAAAAHuQ/mGsoD0iiD_M/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B6%2B31%2B17%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NzX3yyZAu4o/VECrKAL_0mI/AAAAAAAAHuY/nE669DwZOak/s1600/20131019_151057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NzX3yyZAu4o/VECrKAL_0mI/AAAAAAAAHuY/nE669DwZOak/s400/20131019_151057.jpg" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rFUbJ6UDm_4/VECpnR5_w7I/AAAAAAAAHtw/Ykf5xXsAK7s/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B12%2B26%2B09%2BPM%2B(HDR).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rFUbJ6UDm_4/VECpnR5_w7I/AAAAAAAAHtw/Ykf5xXsAK7s/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B12%2B26%2B09%2BPM%2B(HDR).jpg" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JG7MFDAm_6g/VECfHjxHBGI/AAAAAAAAHrk/esJc1oFmpJA/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B12%2B54%2B29%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JG7MFDAm_6g/VECfHjxHBGI/AAAAAAAAHrk/esJc1oFmpJA/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B12%2B54%2B29%2BPM.jpg" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8fg4UkINZT0/VECpC_I3NbI/AAAAAAAAHtg/1Bn61OjMxOQ/s1600/20131019_130548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8fg4UkINZT0/VECpC_I3NbI/AAAAAAAAHtg/1Bn61OjMxOQ/s400/20131019_130548.jpg" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--XGzRbCYays/VECqKYQHcCI/AAAAAAAAHuA/5JZ8SF2qlak/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B1%2B07%2B59%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--XGzRbCYays/VECqKYQHcCI/AAAAAAAAHuA/5JZ8SF2qlak/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B1%2B07%2B59%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3EzJyDtkhik/VECqOhCmHdI/AAAAAAAAHuI/bq7vzOXOHKs/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B1%2B05%2B34%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3EzJyDtkhik/VECqOhCmHdI/AAAAAAAAHuI/bq7vzOXOHKs/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B1%2B05%2B34%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V_MxCi8fmQs/VDw0Ym4IWGI/AAAAAAAAHmI/eHbmAlwzqI0/s1600/1395450_10100561575460557_792754808_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V_MxCi8fmQs/VDw0Ym4IWGI/AAAAAAAAHmI/eHbmAlwzqI0/s400/1395450_10100561575460557_792754808_n.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YAG4jPgNGIo/VEChNttQ6qI/AAAAAAAAHsc/1SXESUq1Pmw/s1600/P1010486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YAG4jPgNGIo/VEChNttQ6qI/AAAAAAAAHsc/1SXESUq1Pmw/s400/P1010486.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cSe5Jw4SXxo/VECpZkbSrdI/AAAAAAAAHto/0tmgmC0T674/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B1%2B12%2B23%2BPM%2B(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 85%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cSe5Jw4SXxo/VECpZkbSrdI/AAAAAAAAHto/0tmgmC0T674/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B1%2B12%2B23%2BPM%2B(1).jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7hffaU0olBc/VECffIRtyFI/AAAAAAAAHrs/koEPlSHgkiQ/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B2%2B18%2B27%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7hffaU0olBc/VECffIRtyFI/AAAAAAAAHrs/koEPlSHgkiQ/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B2%2B18%2B27%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMue8rQi52k/VEComXakcJI/AAAAAAAAHtY/Lyztacgkwr4/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B2%2B48%2B12%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMue8rQi52k/VEComXakcJI/AAAAAAAAHtY/Lyztacgkwr4/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B19%2C%2B2%2B48%2B12%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QxGLfZWNn3A/VECgEqQZrrI/AAAAAAAAHr8/FVsHMy_QAKc/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B5%2B04%2B55%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QxGLfZWNn3A/VECgEqQZrrI/AAAAAAAAHr8/FVsHMy_QAKc/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B5%2B04%2B55%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MMehMAwhxE4/VECg4g5oCsI/AAAAAAAAHsM/p-n8WYIazYw/s1600/P1010556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MMehMAwhxE4/VECg4g5oCsI/AAAAAAAAHsM/p-n8WYIazYw/s400/P1010556.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ve_w4foEsqU/VEChV-6Gp3I/AAAAAAAAHsk/0tVqX3O4_N4/s1600/P1010452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ve_w4foEsqU/VEChV-6Gp3I/AAAAAAAAHsk/0tVqX3O4_N4/s400/P1010452.JPG" /></a></div><br>
I want to go on and on. But this post is already approaching 1,500 words. That's probably longer than any college paper I ever wrote. (<i>I didn't take very many hard classes, obviously.</i>) I honestly could never say enough about my 30th birthday weekend. Todd pulled off the most unexpected surprise, and the most incredible weekend I could have ever imagined. If I hadn't just married him a few months prior, he would have been a shoe-in at that point for sure. I rode the wave of that joy for 12 solid months. To be honest, I still am. I can't wait to celebrate 31 with some of my Wandawega campers this weekend. I just feel so blessed. (<i>Not like, </i>#blessed<i>. Like, actually blessed.</i>)<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HEZBAz1SlnI/VECjtSNDIoI/AAAAAAAAHsw/RxkgouTtVbo/s1600/P1010515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HEZBAz1SlnI/VECjtSNDIoI/AAAAAAAAHsw/RxkgouTtVbo/s400/P1010515.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l5VlcYTa3nA/VECjtxLGZ2I/AAAAAAAAHs4/FQL0F4qzgJE/s1600/P1010545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l5VlcYTa3nA/VECjtxLGZ2I/AAAAAAAAHs4/FQL0F4qzgJE/s400/P1010545.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-72w3uBxS23A/VEClrkwQiLI/AAAAAAAAHtE/PpBeYNwiAdg/s1600/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B3%2B37%2B54%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-72w3uBxS23A/VEClrkwQiLI/AAAAAAAAHtE/PpBeYNwiAdg/s400/Photo%2BOct%2B18%2C%2B3%2B37%2B54%2BPM.jpg" /></a></div><br>
Long live Wandawega. xoxo
</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-88664030426296008212014-09-02T15:17:00.000-05:002014-09-02T15:17:12.993-05:00i think i'm being tested.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g97KNC4NeII/VAYlU1HkaBI/AAAAAAAAE98/sqv1ittCGy4/s1600/20140902_082006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g97KNC4NeII/VAYlU1HkaBI/AAAAAAAAE98/sqv1ittCGy4/s400/20140902_082006.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<b>Really??</b>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-72660819334318671152014-08-25T14:50:00.001-05:002014-08-25T14:50:30.894-05:00live and let go.<span style="font-size: 85%;">I usually try to keep things pretty light around here. I'm very aware of the whole "your grandkids may be able to clone you based on your internet life that lives in the cloud" theory. I want them to clone the best possible version of me, and leave the bad stuff in the past where it belongs.
<br><br>
Speaking of leaving the stuff in the past, I have a serious issue with letting go of things. Not even emotional things - I'm actually pretty good at the whole "forgive and forget" way of living. I'm talking about silly things like ticket stubs from a baseball game that I randomly attended with friends, cheap-o jewelry that is tarnished and out-dated, thrifted t-shirts that are waaaayyyy too small because "maybe my kids can wear them!"
<br><br>
I can attach an emotion or a memory to anything. And it makes it incredibly difficult for me when things happen that are out of my control, and I am no longer in possession of one or more of my belongings. I've had two Jeeps stolen since living in Chicago. The first had my favorite bathing suit in it, an awesome red igloo cooler, newspapers from the day after Obama was elected president and a book of my favorite CDs. The second had less. Todd's first Ray-Bans that I bought him and my Walt Disney World Mickey antennae ball from my 2003 road trip w/ Lindsay after our freshman year of college. Each time the car was found completely stripped with nothing left but a milk crate where the driver's seat should be. People are terrible.
<br><br>
Last week I was pick pocketed for the first time in the 10 years that I've lived here. I was having lunch outside with my back pack on the back of my chair and someone stole my wallet, a compact mirror that I gave to all my bridesmaids at my wedding, and my make-up bag (it was leather and probably just looked like a clutch). All this happened right behind my back. I feel violated and vulnerable, but mostly heartbroken over my leather wallet that I bought for myself when I first moved to the city, my gold dive card that I earned in 2001 that cannot be replaced (the new ones are blue. and stupid.), the playing card that Justin slipped in my wallet as a practical joke because magic makes me nervous, and the spare key to my mom's old Jeep that my dad saved for me when he finally sold it last year. Thinking about these things makes me cry. People are terrible.
<br><br>
It's hard for me not to just let this turn into a tail-spin post of how horrible people are - how they need to get a real job and earn their own money and not steal from people who work hard. That can lead to a lot of controversial topics that are really just coming from the heightened emotions of my own heartache. Bad things happen. Sometimes it feels like they happen all the time. And only to me. I know that's not true, but I feel like I've had my fair share so if the world could just lay off for a while, I would really appreciate it.
<br><br>
I need to bring this back around. I feel myself going down that tail-spin I mentioned. Basically, a lesson that I have to re-learn every time something like this happens is to let go. Let go of the physical things. They don't take the memories with them when they are gone. I have those. I will remember Justin's tormenting sense of humor without the 4 of clubs. I will remember my first dive and getting certified with my sister at 17 without my original gold card. I will remember that white Jeep Grand Cherokee and every memory made in it for 15 years without that key I carried around in my wallet.
<br><br>
Even before this happened, I had mentally been trying to prepare myself to "purge" at our house. I've been watching friends as they prepare their house for the arrival of their baby, and have been thinking about all the things I have carried with me from apartment to apartment. All the things "I need to save!" but have been feeling less attached to as I continue my new life with Todd. We have unpacked boxes of photos and trinkets and mementos, and they're all mine. I feel guilty that our house is filled with my clutter. Boxes of things that were important to me once as I tried to hold onto every single moment, as if they all needed to last forever. Moments that no longer really matter. They have made me who I am, and I am grateful. But I want our house to be filled with our memories. Our family. Our friends. Not with boxes of my past. I do not need every tiny t-shirt that I once fit into in high school. I do not need the key chain "ticket" from senior prom. Every time I lose something that I most treasured, these other items I've held onto become even less important. If I can keep the memories of my most loved treasures without the actual physical thing, why am I holding onto all of this other junk?
<br><br>
It's hard for me to learn this lesson over and over and over again. I couldn't even leave a towel at the bottom of the ocean, for pete's sake. (See previous vacation post for that reference.) But I try. Or I am trying. Or I will try. One of those. My heart still breaks though. And it hurts.
</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-57661467174796590662014-06-22T21:19:00.000-05:002014-06-23T13:30:00.265-05:00the name game.<span style="font-size: 85%;">I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but I got married last year. What's that? Only like a million times? Ok, well then we're all up to speed now.
<br>
<br>
Well, one whole year and a month or so later, I'm finally looking in to what it takes to legally change your name. Todd and I had a few conversations about it before we were married, and he's never pressured me to take his last name. It's not something that either one of us came into this feeling that strongly about. We didn't feel like sharing a name would make us any more or less married and committed to each other. But to be honest, the main reasons I've postponed doing anything about it until now is convenience, travel and sheer laziness. Apparently, in order to change your name on a plane ticket (<i>since they would have to match my new ID and passport, obviously</i>), airlines will charge you upwards of $250-300. JUST TO CHANGE THE NAME THAT PRINTS OUT ON THE TICKET. Ugh. I mean, I'm in the ticketing business. I get it. You don't want people just buying a bunch of tickets and then selling them for more money and changing the name. But still. If you can prove that you are the same person who bought the ticket, and just changing your legal name, there should be some kind of exception. So anyway, since Todd and I already had a couple of plane tickets purchased through March of this year, we decided I would just wait until after those trips were over so we didn't have to pay even more money just so I could be "Mrs" instead of "Ms". And then we booked that other (<i>super amazing</i>) trip for May... so it got pushed back a few more months.
<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-71YsE1rXNSE/U6hsnAcERCI/AAAAAAAAE1c/w3TKzwIKwMU/s1600/iceland+tix.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-71YsE1rXNSE/U6hsnAcERCI/AAAAAAAAE1c/w3TKzwIKwMU/s400/iceland+tix.png" /></a></div>
<br>
And that was okay by me. I mean, it is actually really frustrating and complicated. And even after you've jumped through the hoops of legally changing your name with the Social Security Office and the DMV and the Passport Office, it gets really overwhelming when you start to think about the number of other places/organizations that you still need to notify... utility companies, banks, credit cards, insurance, employers, post office, doctors' offices, voter's registration, schools... It's crazy how many places know who you are.
<br>
<br>
That's when the laziness kicks in. I like my first, middle, and last names. They've done me right for 30 years. They're great. I like being SEM. But I'm also really excited to have a new chapter of life as "Mr. and Mrs. Garcia". It's pretty cool. People might even think I speak Spanish. (<i>I don't.</i>) But do I drop my last name and keep the first+middle? Or do I drop the middle and make my last name my new middle name? Or do I go for broke and keep them all?? I've been practicing my new signature to see what feels natural. And if I kept them all, can I have two middle initials? Or would I have a double last name, no hyphen?? The possibilities are endless!
<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCSRTePui6M/U6hvOKecqwI/AAAAAAAAE1o/r2avHYSxYk4/s1600/TS_mr_mrs.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCSRTePui6M/U6hvOKecqwI/AAAAAAAAE1o/r2avHYSxYk4/s400/TS_mr_mrs.png" /></a></div>
<br>
Has anyone else been at this crossroads, or did you dive right into the name-change and never look back? Any tips or super secret short cuts or loopholes you found to be helpful? Has anyone else done the double-middle name?</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-49778654132972115442014-06-12T00:11:00.000-05:002014-06-12T00:18:56.301-05:00sun days. fun days.<span style="font-size: 85%;">Our dad loves boats. He finally bought a boat a couple years ago that he keeps down in Florida. It is so great and I love staying on it. It's the perfect size for a weekend visit. We knew once he broke down and bought a boat again (<i>they sold our last boat when I was in elementary school, I think</i>), that it would only be a matter of time before he was hooked again. Well, he's hooked. In a big way. He's also (</span><i style="font-size: 85%;">always been</i><span style="font-size: 85%;">) hooked on family vacations to tropical islands. And this time, those two hooks hooked each other and Stef, Loc, Todd and I all benefited from said hooking.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1gn_5rT_qrs/U5kj5P-yCNI/AAAAAAAAEtg/qX8WzpeBbes/s1600/P1020457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1gn_5rT_qrs/U5kj5P-yCNI/AAAAAAAAEtg/qX8WzpeBbes/s1600/P1020457.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SYci9eLB5lQ/U5krQY1jynI/AAAAAAAAEvU/g1kGeUTEivQ/s1600/P1020454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SYci9eLB5lQ/U5krQY1jynI/AAAAAAAAEvU/g1kGeUTEivQ/s1600/P1020454.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 85%;">My dad chartered a power catamaran, large enough for the five of us to eat, drink, sleep, cruise, swim around, dive from, and sun ourselves on for seven days. It was actual paradise. We hit a new island everyday. We were in the British Virgin Islands, and it was so easy to get from one spot to the next. We didn't even get out "to sea" really, because we were almost always in sight of Tortola (</span><i style="font-size: 85%;">the largest island</i><span style="font-size: 85%;">) and at least 4 little islands or cays. Dad was the captain and we were his crew.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pRnQ7HdEOb8/U5kkTV4XQII/AAAAAAAAEto/p6kTrp-jUpA/s1600/P1020048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pRnQ7HdEOb8/U5kkTV4XQII/AAAAAAAAEto/p6kTrp-jUpA/s1600/P1020048.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KMO3KpTKky0/U5kso387zII/AAAAAAAAEvk/HfoAxy3QY2k/s1600/20140524_124427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KMO3KpTKky0/U5kso387zII/AAAAAAAAEvk/HfoAxy3QY2k/s1600/20140524_124427.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tb-xdOnqXQw/U5kjNra5CYI/AAAAAAAAEtY/Aj58YDX-854/s1600/P1020314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tb-xdOnqXQw/U5kjNra5CYI/AAAAAAAAEtY/Aj58YDX-854/s1600/P1020314.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">Stef quickly established herself as navigator/dive guide/maintenance crew. Loc, Todd and I dutifully appointed ourselves the mooring crew, with Loc on the port line, I took the starboard and Todd had the mooring hook to snag all the <s>boys</s> buoys. You may be wondering how Stefanie became our "maintenance crew". Well, our first evening on board and out of the marina, we noticed that our water tanks were empty. That's odd. As we were filling them the next morning, the gauge raised and then dropped to empty again. That's odd. So obviously Stef investigates the situation, hops below deck, finds the valve that was "on", switched it to "off", and miraculously our water tanks were no longer emptying directly into the ocean. She was immediately dubbed our "crew chief", because duh.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rCD85LyI0ws/U5klu93ZgQI/AAAAAAAAEt8/fxusJF-yano/s1600/P5250008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rCD85LyI0ws/U5klu93ZgQI/AAAAAAAAEt8/fxusJF-yano/s1600/P5250008.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-88k0EgqWCBc/U5km6SugSVI/AAAAAAAAEuU/VX14RXNESas/s1600/P1020174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-88k0EgqWCBc/U5km6SugSVI/AAAAAAAAEuU/VX14RXNESas/s1600/P1020174.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">Loc was also appointed "dinghy captain" and his skills were tested on one of our last adventures when we took the dinghy through a downpour to get to a tiny islet, called Sandy Spit, on the other side of the rain. I believe halfway through he said something like, "can't go back now!". Todd was our "galley boy" and prepared most of our meals on board, including an adaptation of the new-to-him classic Mitchell-Family-Vacation summertime specialty "mac & cheese & hotdogs". This trip we got fancy with Velveeta Shells & Cheese & Spam. His life and culinary prowess will never be the same. He also made other delicious things that were actual non-processed foods, but who cares about that stuff? (<i>I do. Please don't stop feeding me, Todd. I love you.</i>) What was my role, you ask? I took the most strenuous job on the boat: "sunpad supervisor". I spent everyday laying on that sunpad to make sure it was still there. It was. You're welcome.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QV_1Tx1GQ6I/U5kmOXOGtVI/AAAAAAAAEuE/9Y8xSpOkAeg/s1600/P1020113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QV_1Tx1GQ6I/U5kmOXOGtVI/AAAAAAAAEuE/9Y8xSpOkAeg/s1600/P1020113.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3Ugv1RmvRK0/U5kmZmQrL1I/AAAAAAAAEuM/2s36AUCIvcQ/s1600/P1020135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3Ugv1RmvRK0/U5kmZmQrL1I/AAAAAAAAEuM/2s36AUCIvcQ/s1600/P1020135.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wGG0RamJwp0/U5ksdahy-9I/AAAAAAAAEvc/Oa0hGyJYDtU/s1600/Photo+May+27,+12+56+07+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wGG0RamJwp0/U5ksdahy-9I/AAAAAAAAEvc/Oa0hGyJYDtU/s1600/Photo+May+27,+12+56+07+PM.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">We are also now officially a full dive family! Loc passed his certification dives while we were down there, so we all got to dive together for the first time ever! (</span><i style="font-size: 85%;">Todd completed his certification on our honeymoon last year.</i><span style="font-size: 85%;">) I also love diving with my sister. She is the most fun underwater. No offense to the dudes, but they don't quite understand our underwater talking language yet. I was so excited to be diving with her again that she talked me into pushing my free-diving skills when one of our towels blew off the railing and sank 33 feet to the ocean floor below our boat. You see, she is a very good free-diver/breath-holder/buoyancy-controller/body-pressure-equalizer. I would also like to be good at those things, so when she said "you can do it, just try" obviously I was going to try. I'm 30. Can't be the baby sister forever, right? (</span><i style="font-size: 85%;">RIGHT?</i><span style="font-size: 85%;">) So I strapped on my mask and fins and a weight-belt, and plunged into the sea. And well, the rest is history.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5zRRz3Y3jw8/U5knSNChwQI/AAAAAAAAEug/fMmoRYEbd2o/s1600/P1020187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5zRRz3Y3jw8/U5knSNChwQI/AAAAAAAAEug/fMmoRYEbd2o/s1600/P1020187.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G6ZtzM4KbEg/U5kp6a3oV6I/AAAAAAAAEvA/Tf1kyflCq1U/s1600/20140530_200415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G6ZtzM4KbEg/U5kp6a3oV6I/AAAAAAAAEvA/Tf1kyflCq1U/s1600/20140530_200415.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SfkHpZUfrRc/U5kzN7b0o-I/AAAAAAAAEwk/zYoetk6_M5E/s1600/P1020384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SfkHpZUfrRc/U5kzN7b0o-I/AAAAAAAAEwk/zYoetk6_M5E/s1600/P1020384.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">(<i>Note to self: equalizing the pressure in your mask is equally as important as equalizing the pressure in your ears.</i>) BUT GUYS! I got my treasure and free dove deeper than I ever would have attempted before and held my breath longer than ever! I'd say it's a trade-off. I also got a temporary job-title upgrade to "treasure diver". It didn't stick long, since I couldn't really wear my mask again after that. (<i>No more eyeball suctioning, thanks.</i>) </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JrWsDhJJKUg/U5ktWNN3UGI/AAAAAAAAEvs/lE3m9xalSvc/s1600/Photo+Jun+02,+1+42+20+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JrWsDhJJKUg/U5ktWNN3UGI/AAAAAAAAEvs/lE3m9xalSvc/s1600/Photo+Jun+02,+1+42+20+PM.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5fMX0uLUgSI/U5ktcsGuMcI/AAAAAAAAEv0/eA_WkdFcnzk/s1600/Photo+May+26,+1+08+26+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5fMX0uLUgSI/U5ktcsGuMcI/AAAAAAAAEv0/eA_WkdFcnzk/s1600/Photo+May+26,+1+08+26+PM.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-htMD21XteIU/U5koWXJD0TI/AAAAAAAAEu4/udz1Dw4wJMI/s1600/P1020385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-htMD21XteIU/U5koWXJD0TI/AAAAAAAAEu4/udz1Dw4wJMI/s1600/P1020385.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FHvDpKXQaCo/U5kt_W03R6I/AAAAAAAAEwE/e4lSPDbRlEY/s1600/P1020369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FHvDpKXQaCo/U5kt_W03R6I/AAAAAAAAEwE/e4lSPDbRlEY/s1600/P1020369.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kvPLOkym1Rs/U5kzlMWfs2I/AAAAAAAAEws/feXCQkiYr4A/s1600/P1020386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kvPLOkym1Rs/U5kzlMWfs2I/AAAAAAAAEws/feXCQkiYr4A/s1600/P1020386.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 85%;">It really was an incredible trip. I know family vacations are different for everyone - some people love them and some people dread them. I wasn't sure exactly how this trip would be, but everyone was so relaxed and so on board (</span><i style="font-size: 85%;">literally</i><span style="font-size: 85%;">) for everything anybody wanted to do. This was the first time we travelled with just the five of us, and it was a perfect family bonding trip. (</span><i style="font-size: 85%;">Great idea, Dad!</i><span style="font-size: 85%;">) We had one day back on Tortola after returning the boat before we all went back to normal, non-boat-living life. It was nice to just relax and ease out of it all a little bit. Get our land legs back. There were also cats at our hotel, and I befriended one and gave him chips, so I felt a little closer to home already.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RiUDs-vpXfs/U5kqD7Jj-kI/AAAAAAAAEvI/8tY5eZAvbt8/s1600/IMAG0114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RiUDs-vpXfs/U5kqD7Jj-kI/AAAAAAAAEvI/8tY5eZAvbt8/s1600/IMAG0114.jpg" height="226" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WgWDcZtoVc4/U5kufn61FAI/AAAAAAAAEwM/mC8izasOa98/s1600/P1020470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WgWDcZtoVc4/U5kufn61FAI/AAAAAAAAEwM/mC8izasOa98/s1600/P1020470.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RpunQMe48PE/U5kwYf6uH3I/AAAAAAAAEwc/0yOkN_XHjgI/s1600/P1020476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RpunQMe48PE/U5kwYf6uH3I/AAAAAAAAEwc/0yOkN_XHjgI/s1600/P1020476.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">
I never like leaving places like this. I love the sun (<i>all the time sun, please</i>) and the fact that the first thing I put on in the morning is a bathing suit. If it were appropriate in Chicago, I would wear a bathing suit under my clothes everyday and lay out on the sidewalk at lunch. That's totally normal, right? (<i>But seriously, Stacey + Sand + Sunshine + Swimsuit = the key to a happy life for Todd.</i>)</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4EXz7ZzXyz8/U5kvrla1NfI/AAAAAAAAEwU/ZIF4KSktTNc/s1600/P1020348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4EXz7ZzXyz8/U5kvrla1NfI/AAAAAAAAEwU/ZIF4KSktTNc/s1600/P1020348.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SkmceMywDLA/U5kqYoqFQ7I/AAAAAAAAEvQ/ZjOLsNVlk6Y/s1600/SAM_0073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SkmceMywDLA/U5kqYoqFQ7I/AAAAAAAAEvQ/ZjOLsNVlk6Y/s1600/SAM_0073.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yO4sbiJW75k/U5kz0dwW5xI/AAAAAAAAEw0/KUevNNDDIyE/s1600/P1020421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yO4sbiJW75k/U5kz0dwW5xI/AAAAAAAAEw0/KUevNNDDIyE/s1600/P1020421.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">Can I say it again? This trip was incredible.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">P.S. If you want a daily breakdown of this trip, Todd's been breaking it down over on <u><a href="http://toddagarcia.wordpress.com/2014/05/28/around-the-world-in-80-days-day-1/" target="_blank">his blog</a></u> lately.</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-72189307142356569082014-05-20T18:00:00.000-05:002014-06-12T00:12:14.326-05:004x4: keds will be keds.<span style="font-size: 85%;">For those one or two of you that can remember way back to when I first started this little blog, you may recall that I would occasionally do these little 4x4 posts. Four collections of four items each, with a common theme. (<i>These were the pre-Pinterest days, for any youngsters out there.</i>) Well, I think I'm gonna bring 'em back. Or at least, I'm doing one today! The last 4x4 was actually posted in February of 2011, so... consider this my first post-30 4x4. Basically the same, but with a little more expendable income.<br />
<br />
Recently (<i>yesterday</i>), I purchased a fresh pair of Keds. I wanted white, but this dirty city (<i>and my sister</i>) convinced me that coral was the way to go. My sister and I wore white leather Keds almost exclusively growing up. (<i>Remember when they only cost $11?</i>) I realized this morning that my footwear now consists of my "mom" sandals, my "dad" sperrys, and now my "stef-and-stace-growing-up" keds. I am nothing if not nostalgic. So, in honor of my relapse into childhood footwear, and our upcoming sunny vacation, I bring you the return of the 4x4. Just add shorts + t-shirt.<br />
<br />
<b>Forever Young</b></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZOSrxHeO7jg/U3qFf_G_tII/AAAAAAAAB7Y/J89chrsf3lI/s1600/4x4+051914+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZOSrxHeO7jg/U3qFf_G_tII/AAAAAAAAB7Y/J89chrsf3lI/s1600/4x4+051914+1.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 75%;">Shoes: <i><a href="http://www.zappos.com/keds-champion-ikat-navy-canvas" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Champion Ikat</a> </i>by Keds - $50
<center>
Shades: <i><a href="http://www.zappos.com/ray-ban-0rb3025-aviator-size-58-red" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Wrapped Aviators 58</a></i> by Ray Ban - $185<br />Jewels: <i><a href="http://factory.jcrew.com/womens-clothing/jewelry/necklaces/PRDOVR~B1076/B1076.jsp?color_name=orange-sorbet" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Stone and Crystal Arrow</a></i> by J. Crew Factory - $44.50<br />Bag: <i><a href="https://baggu.com/shop/knapsack/olive" target="_blank">Knapsack</a></i> by Baggu - $64</center></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 85%"><b>Prepster</b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MMDuGBr4X8g/U3qOdv4x-7I/AAAAAAAAB8A/wfgw8OxE3pw/s1600/4x4+051914+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MMDuGBr4X8g/U3qOdv4x-7I/AAAAAAAAB8A/wfgw8OxE3pw/s1600/4x4+051914+2.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 75%; text-align: center;">Shoes: <i><a href="http://www.zappos.com/keds-boyfriend-chambray-stripe-red" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Boyfriend Chambray Stripe</a></i> by Keds - $60
<center>
Shades: <i><a href="http://www.zappos.com/ray-ban-0rb2140-wayfarer-size-50-demi-gloss-beige" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Wayfarer 50</a></i> by Ray-Ban - $160<br />Jewels: <i><a href="http://factory.jcrew.com/womens-clothing/jewelry/necklaces/PRDOVR~B0387/B0387.jsp" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Stone Square</a></i> by J. Crew Factory - $34.50<br />Bag: <i><a href="https://baggu.com/shop/boattote/peach" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Boat Tote</a></i> by Baggu - $68</span></center></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><b>Summer Brights</b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ViqZbQLjg_c/U3qFf4wUc_I/AAAAAAAAB7c/P3zRrwRgMeI/s1600/4x4+051914+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ViqZbQLjg_c/U3qFf4wUc_I/AAAAAAAAB7c/P3zRrwRgMeI/s1600/4x4+051914+3.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 75%;">Shoes: <i><a href="http://www.zappos.com/keds-crash-back-chevron-lime-twill" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Crash-Back Chevron</a></i> by Keds - $45
<center>
Shades: <i><a href="http://www.zappos.com/ray-ban-0rb4147-boyfriend-60-top-black-on-green" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Boyfriend 60</a></i> by Ray-Ban - $150<br />Jewels: <i><a href="http://factory.jcrew.com/womens-clothing/jewelry/necklaces/PRDOVR~A6090/A6090.jsp?color_name=citrus-lime" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Neon Floral Burst</a></i> by J. Crew Factory - $44.50<br />Bag: <i><a href="https://baggu.com/shop/backpack/forest" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Backpack</a></i> by Baggu - $98</span></center></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><b>For Realsies</b></span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QRGPsB2pQ_8/TJonqtKGvMI/AAAAAAAAAik/uy7PgsyEd8Q/s1600/4x4+-+endless.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vLYte1YW7Zg/U3qFg7ShL8I/AAAAAAAAB7g/y9h5msLr5vk/s1600/4x4+051914+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vLYte1YW7Zg/U3qFg7ShL8I/AAAAAAAAB7g/y9h5msLr5vk/s1600/4x4+051914+4.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 75%;">Shoes: <i><a href="http://www.zappos.com/keds-champion-canvas-cvo-navy-canvas" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Champion Canvas</a></i> by Keds - $45
<center>
Shades: <i><a href="http://www.zappos.com/ray-ban-erika-dark-rubber-sand" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Erika</a></i> by Ray-Ban - $115<br />Jewels: <i><a href="http://factory.jcrew.com/womens-clothing/jewelry/necklaces/PRDOVR~B0359/B0359.jsp" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Layered Crystal Pendant</a></i> by J. Crew Factory - $34.50<br />Bag: <i><a href="https://baggu.com/shop/duckbag/sailorstripe" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Duck Bag</a></i> by Baggu - $48</span></center></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 85%"><i>I am in no way affiliated with Keds, Ray-Ban, J.Crew or Baggu. They are just some of my fave brands, and things that I actually buy.</i></span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-55894165126896382432014-05-08T18:03:00.000-05:002014-06-12T00:11:53.690-05:00the luckiest.<span style="font-size: 85%;">One year ago, I was in full pre-wedding-stress-mode. The dress had to be picked up from the seamstress, the menus and programs had to be picked up from the printer (<i>the first batch was ALL WRONG, I tell you!</i>), I had to check into the hotel, I didn't have a bra for my rehearsal dinner dress (<i>that I just picked out THAT WEEK! Because NOTHING WAS RIGHT!</I>), my original make-up artist cancelled at the last minute, it was unseasonably cold (<I>and WE ARE GETTING MARRIED IN THE GARDEN DAMMIT</I>)... FULL ON PANIC MODE!
<BR>
<br>
Thankfully, I have the best friends/family/husband in the whole world. Everything was perfect, even the parts that weren't. We partied forever. And I would do it all over again every year. I will say it forever: May 11, 2013 was the happiest day of my life. It was an incredible day, filled with the most special people from every special moment of my life so far. I know that as time goes on, you lose touch with people. It's the natural way of things. But I feel so fortunate to have had so many people from so many places come to celebrate and send us off on this new adventure. It was especially important to me because of the absence of one most important guest. Who was there every time the clouds parted and the sun shined into the courtyard. Which it did at the most wonderful times.
<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0mfMADL2Kuk/U2wIdu_iJCI/AAAAAAAAB50/2GBL_hgqVtc/s1600/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_28$!900x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0mfMADL2Kuk/U2wIdu_iJCI/AAAAAAAAB50/2GBL_hgqVtc/s400/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_28$!900x.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aCFWboL7sLQ/U2wIeM9xU5I/AAAAAAAAB58/D7o0Hrxjlxo/s1600/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_38$!900x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aCFWboL7sLQ/U2wIeM9xU5I/AAAAAAAAB58/D7o0Hrxjlxo/s400/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_38$!900x.jpg" /></a></div>
<center><i>this ring is part of my mom's wedding set. she had three bands, too.</i></center>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AUF4gqtGVfM/U2wIeZ7J1lI/AAAAAAAAB6A/tSqqGFK3D80/s1600/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_48$!900x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AUF4gqtGVfM/U2wIeZ7J1lI/AAAAAAAAB6A/tSqqGFK3D80/s400/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_48$!900x.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rs9wVgMeqdA/U2wIep9UguI/AAAAAAAAB6M/4T7CHOYccZQ/s1600/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_79$!900x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rs9wVgMeqdA/U2wIep9UguI/AAAAAAAAB6M/4T7CHOYccZQ/s400/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_79$!900x.jpg" /></a></div><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XJF794lkLdU/U2wIc-ri1ZI/AAAAAAAAB5w/O5H-PCff9ws/s1600/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_103$!900x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XJF794lkLdU/U2wIc-ri1ZI/AAAAAAAAB5w/O5H-PCff9ws/s400/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_103$!900x.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A3BOWHt1jSM/U2wIcypL-II/AAAAAAAAB5o/eN3C35pFG6s/s1600/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_128$!900x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A3BOWHt1jSM/U2wIcypL-II/AAAAAAAAB5o/eN3C35pFG6s/s400/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_128$!900x.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_xsOsHEOxyA/U2wIc43bTxI/AAAAAAAAB5s/vvYqjMIaAyU/s1600/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_134$!900x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_xsOsHEOxyA/U2wIc43bTxI/AAAAAAAAB5s/vvYqjMIaAyU/s400/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_134$!900x.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>some may remember this as the second best moment of the night.</i></center>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-izPOw5ZEeo4/U2wIdWg5-QI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/7VTRDKRGcIA/s1600/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_162$!900x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-izPOw5ZEeo4/U2wIdWg5-QI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/7VTRDKRGcIA/s400/051113.mitchellgarciawedding_162$!900x.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
Full Disclosure: Marriage isn't easy. The first year of marriage has been tough, but that could be said about any year of any relationship ever. You work hard for love and happiness. And when you are in love and happy, even the hard work feels easy in the end. We are still so happy. So in love. So hilarious. So lucky. But I'm the luckiest. (<i>Don't tell Todd!</i>)
</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-72206002104929485862014-04-24T10:05:00.000-05:002014-04-24T10:06:02.688-05:00and then a year goes by.<span style="font-size: 85%;">Well, not an entire year. But practically a year. Since my last post of any substance, that is, and not just cute images and no real text. We really did go <a href="http://staceyemitchell.blogspot.com/2013/07/sleep-away.html" target="_blank">camping</a>, though. That wasn't just a fun name for our new home. But it is what we call our apartment, so maybe it was just a cute image. But now it has some context.
<br>
<br>
It's hard to jump back into blogging after such a long hiatus. What do you talk about? How do you break the ice? Do you start back where you left off, or pick up at present day? <i>THE PRESSURE IS OVERWHELMING!</i> But seriously, it kind of was. A lot of things have happened, and I wish I had captured some of those moments via blog. But to be honest, I'm kind of glad I didn't because that means I was really living in those moments and enjoying my time with family and friends. <I>(Not that bloggers don't enjoy things. I just tend to get distracted.)</I>
<br>
<br>
So I guess this is me. Saying hi. I'm back. <I>(Hopefully.)</I> And I'll probably do some recapping in the near future. I mean, this was our first year of marriage. I turned 30. We went to Florida. And Iceland. Big things at Camp Garcia. Stay tuned if you want! If not, I totally understand. Chances are I won't post again until October. But I have good intentions.
<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fmKd0qAtN3I/U1knHOssS6I/AAAAAAAAB2U/B3vYGHAZe_s/s1600/stax+trailer+square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fmKd0qAtN3I/U1knHOssS6I/AAAAAAAAB2U/B3vYGHAZe_s/s320/stax+trailer+square.jpg" /></a></div><center>If you need me, I'll just be over here.</center>
</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-51102437714826905832013-08-24T11:18:00.000-05:002014-06-12T00:12:03.557-05:00four year special.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tjjp5jfuwb0/U0Vv6_9WpDI/AAAAAAAAB1g/Y8arh0rl7tk/s1600/4th-birthday-cake-and-candle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tjjp5jfuwb0/U0Vv6_9WpDI/AAAAAAAAB1g/Y8arh0rl7tk/s320/4th-birthday-cake-and-candle.jpg" /></a></div><center>Happy Birthday <font color="#a1b058"><b>comeback special</b></font>!</center><br />
<span style="font-size:85%;">Year four of this little blog has come to an end. Big plans this fall. <i>(Though not quite as big as a wedding, thank goodness.)</i> Busy days and fun surprises! Guys. I'm turning 30 in less than two months. <i>YIPES!</i></span><br />
<br><span style="font-size:75%;">
<center>image above via <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PPm2tAXdQhY/Txh1zALfxRI/AAAAAAAADDg/0LUVVO-qaQA/s1600/229926%252Cxcitefun-4th-happy-birthday-with-cake-and-candle.jpg" target="_blank">here</a></center>
</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-8912532979563394572013-07-17T18:21:00.001-05:002013-07-17T18:21:43.485-05:00sleep away.<center><div style="width:435px;margin:0 auto"><div style="position:relative;"><a target="_blank" href="http://www.polyvore.com/his_hers_camp_garcia/set?.embedder=1195642&.svc=copypaste&id=89940596"><img width="435" alt="his + hers: camp garcia" src="http://cfc.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-set/.sig/bciPegPp2D6B3joUpyWqRw/cid/89940596/id/633PM3UVSEWvXS8FVsdmFg/size/c435x487.jpg" title="his + hers: camp garcia" height="487" border="0" /></a></div></div><br/></center>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-10559849719827191402013-07-15T08:24:00.000-05:002014-04-08T11:05:44.865-05:00the square is a circle.<span style="font-size: 85%;">I moved to the Logan Square neighborhood of Chicago seven years ago, somewhat relunctantly actually. I was coerced by my sister and an apartment on the circle with a garbage disposal that was half a block from the train station. You see, Logan Square is actually a circle. A wonderfully confusing mess of staight/curved/diagonal streets that allow you to weed out intruders to your neighborhood simply by observing who does or does not know how to properly navigate said circle.<br />
<br />
I wasn't so sure about the West Side or the Blue Line at the time. It was "FAR!" from my friends <i>(South Loop/Lincoln Park)</i> and my school <i>(South Loop)</i> and I would have to take TWO TRAINS to get anywhere! <i>(UGGGHHH! So hard!)</i> Stefanie said, "Just wait. In five years, this area is going to start growing like crazy." To which I said, "FIVE YEARS?! But we live here NOW!" <i>(P.S. I love reminiscing about how whiney I was to my sister all the time.)</i> Well, obviously, she did not lead me astray. Seven years and three apartments later, I've gotten to experience the changes to the neighborhood first hand.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EjTTTq494fY/UeQddFlJYlI/AAAAAAAABUA/CcviYMUv734/s1600/brokenfork+01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EjTTTq494fY/UeQddFlJYlI/AAAAAAAABUA/CcviYMUv734/s400/brokenfork+01.png" width="400" /></a></div><center><span style="font-size: 75%;"><a href="http://www.thelogantheatre.com/index.php/info/about-us">The Logan Theatre</a> was renovated back to its original glory and then some in 2012.<br />
(Instagram stolen from <a href="http://staceyemitchell.blogspot.com/2011/10/heart-and-soul.html">A</a>.)</span></center><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;">The downside of living in the new "hot" neighborhood is that rent just keeps going up. And the property managers don't seem to care about making any improvements to their apartments because there are one hundred new tenants just waiting for you to get sick of your shitty place so they can move in. Immediately after the honeymoon, Todd and I had the super-fun task of looking for a new apartment, effective immediately. Not the most relaxing way to start your life together as 'newlyweds', but it was necessary.<br />
<br />
At this point, I'd like to note that getting married can really skew your priorities and outlook on life. Like, "We're married now! We need to have two bathrooms, a garage, a fancy kitchen, a yard, and LOTS of closets!" We were ready to shell out hundreds more dollars a month to try to meet this expectation. We were open to any neighborhood; anywhere that we could check off as many of those boxes as possible. The more places Todd emailed to me to take a look at, the more discouraging the search became. How far do we go - geographically AND monitarily - to try to get the "dream" apartment? How many more places can we see before we just settle for something we don't love? Even in the perfect apartment, would we really love it as much as we love living in Logan Square? Have we gone about this search all wrong?</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KG11fwOlOBo/UeQtGrxHvDI/AAAAAAAABVM/x8wEYyDGSlc/s1600/ts+moving+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KG11fwOlOBo/UeQtGrxHvDI/AAAAAAAABVM/x8wEYyDGSlc/s400/ts+moving+day.jpg" /></a></div><center><span style="font-size: 75%;">Our last day at our first place. That was our window right above our heads.</span></center><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;">If the smiles above didn't already give it away... Surprise! We officially moved into my fourth apartment in Logan Square <i>(Todd's second)</i> on June 22nd; exactly six weeks after our wedding day. We found a great place in our favorite neighborhood for way less than the places we were looking at elsewhere. How did we do that, you ask? I'll have to get editor's notes from Todd because, honestly, he did it all. Including forcing me to make up my mind about what was most important. Our new place doesn't check all the crazy boxes we had dreamed up, but it checks enough of them. And we realized that the most important box was actually a Square. <i>(Which is actually a circle.)</i></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-onEOy1RpPx8/UeQiBXoAGdI/AAAAAAAABUs/s47lq1rzg_M/s1600/I_0017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-onEOy1RpPx8/UeQiBXoAGdI/AAAAAAAABUs/s47lq1rzg_M/s400/I_0017.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><center><span style="font-size: 75%;">We appropriately chose to shoot some of our engagement photos last year<br />
by the 'Home' mural outside of the Logan Square Blue Line station.</span></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vVL20vOp7PA/UeQpL0lHmOI/AAAAAAAABU8/Z01ub0V-1TE/s1600/I_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vVL20vOp7PA/UeQpL0lHmOI/AAAAAAAABU8/Z01ub0V-1TE/s640/I_0004.JPG" width="425" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;">Welcome <i>(back)</i> Home!</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-33799396596517063132013-06-19T17:28:00.001-05:002014-04-08T11:05:36.683-05:00insta gratification.<span style="font-size: 85%;">It really happened. I'm a married lady. Holy moly. And we've made it five and a half whole weeks already! So far, it's... pretty much the same. Don't take that the wrong way; it feels incredible to be married! But when you have been together for five years, lived together for almost two, and known each other for about eight, the marriage part is really a formality. He's been my husband for a while now.<br />
<br />
The wedding, though... Best. Day. Of. My. Life.<br />
<br />
Honestly. And not because it was "my day" or because every last detail was perfect and sparkly and white and every little girl's dream. It wasn't. It was <em>our</em> day. And every detail was not perfect, there were very few sparkles, and the whitest part was the dancing. But it was perfectly <em>us.</em> It was <em>our</em> dream. <em>(There you go. There's the cliche.)</em> It was the best, most amazing celebration of family and friends. I just wanted to drink in all of the love and joy and laughter that started the moment the first guests started arriving<em> (read: Justin. On Wednesday.)</em> and continued until the moment the last guests departed <em>(read: Us. Because Justin was asleep in our apartment when we left for our honeymoon. Yes, Todd knew what he was getting into before he proposed)</em>.<br />
<br />
Another thing I loved was getting to relive it all immediately, and peruse the hastags on instagram the next day. Here are a few favorites from #garciaganza2013 and #lovetoddandstacey.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bJZPCMLYcHU/UcIgHBGvawI/AAAAAAAABTQ/LI8-O9mAop4/s1600/streetdevotion+03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bJZPCMLYcHU/UcIgHBGvawI/AAAAAAAABTQ/LI8-O9mAop4/s320/streetdevotion+03.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 75%">heart breaker at hooters the day before. sorry fellas. this prize has been WON.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t1HrfqTtzAI/UcIfAPWIf2I/AAAAAAAABSA/1JoxHVvO-o0/s1600/emilyruthless+13.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t1HrfqTtzAI/UcIfAPWIf2I/AAAAAAAABSA/1JoxHVvO-o0/s320/emilyruthless+13.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">post-rehearsal-dinner drinks. post-post-rehearsal-dinner-drinks hair fix.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a-kfam-SIQE/UcIfMK1YmxI/AAAAAAAABSQ/eM04EWCPhaQ/s1600/emilyruthless+17.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a-kfam-SIQE/UcIfMK1YmxI/AAAAAAAABSQ/eM04EWCPhaQ/s320/emilyruthless+17.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">hs bffs. there's a baby in there!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HL4kHKJCpEA/UcIfVe6oBtI/AAAAAAAABSg/3TiwI2GTRFE/s1600/emilyruthless+19.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HL4kHKJCpEA/UcIfVe6oBtI/AAAAAAAABSg/3TiwI2GTRFE/s320/emilyruthless+19.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">clones. my hubba and my nuzzle. she knew before we knew.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6XPeviz6PM/UcIgAuEHGQI/AAAAAAAABTI/YHkuDh29MiA/s1600/brittholzmacher+01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6XPeviz6PM/UcIgAuEHGQI/AAAAAAAABTI/YHkuDh29MiA/s320/brittholzmacher+01.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">oh yeah, and then it got real.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cbmf-dsCMUY/UcIfmqyHfPI/AAAAAAAABSw/-lcauEz5zWA/s1600/palexmcralex+01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cbmf-dsCMUY/UcIfmqyHfPI/AAAAAAAABSw/-lcauEz5zWA/s320/palexmcralex+01.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and then i got to dance with my dad.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0zrMoGmAc-c/UcIffpIWkDI/AAAAAAAABSo/Etyg9xq5rRU/s1600/streetdevotion+01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0zrMoGmAc-c/UcIffpIWkDI/AAAAAAAABSo/Etyg9xq5rRU/s320/streetdevotion+01.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">best buds.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pNLYo9QQ2Jg/UcIhE5QUubI/AAAAAAAABTc/Z089urmhRko/s1600/palexmcralex+02.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pNLYo9QQ2Jg/UcIhE5QUubI/AAAAAAAABTc/Z089urmhRko/s320/palexmcralex+02.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">todd and his mama got the party started.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HBoD5StrMB8/UcIf8bkcYEI/AAAAAAAABTA/bIpnxzeBPMA/s1600/shelby_nyc+05.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HBoD5StrMB8/UcIf8bkcYEI/AAAAAAAABTA/bIpnxzeBPMA/s320/shelby_nyc+05.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">photo. booth. mania. (+ unicorn.)</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lBudGc5bAgg/UcIfvcouq8I/AAAAAAAABS4/XPdR7_c40vk/s1600/shelby_nyc+06.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lBudGc5bAgg/UcIfvcouq8I/AAAAAAAABS4/XPdR7_c40vk/s320/shelby_nyc+06.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">best day of my life.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>These instas are courtesy of my wonderful friends and family, whose social media links I will keep private. But many thanks to all of them for capturing such perfect moments and letting me steal them because I'M THE BRIDE. xo</em></span></div>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-39785908259968339602013-05-07T11:42:00.000-05:002014-06-12T00:12:27.027-05:00soon-to-be mrs.<span style="font-size: 85%;">In four days, I will be getting married to this little guy:</span>
</br>
</br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-shUDkWr7EiU/UYk5Owri51I/AAAAAAAABQQ/Ujbf2oAPYYg/s1600/ST+08.17.08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" mwa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-shUDkWr7EiU/UYk5Owri51I/AAAAAAAABQQ/Ujbf2oAPYYg/s400/ST+08.17.08.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 75%;"><center>
Chicago, Summer 2008</center></span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">That is the first know photo of the two of us together after we started dating. Todd was 21 (finally) and I was 24. Ah, the good ol' days. We started dating on <b>May 15, 2008</b> - we were engaged on <b>May 13, 2012</b> - and we will be married on <b>May 11, 2013</b>. Almost five years exactly. It's amazing how much people change in five years. Who are those tiny people sitting on that couch?</span>
</br>
</br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xcsLkIUuTcs/UYk8UacGCAI/AAAAAAAABQc/oVp7xK3_Z1o/s1600/ST+03.09.09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" mwa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xcsLkIUuTcs/UYk8UacGCAI/AAAAAAAABQc/oVp7xK3_Z1o/s400/ST+03.09.09.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 75%;"><center>
Seattle, Spring 2009</center>
</span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">We have had a lot of adventures together, and I can't wait to see what else is in store for us. The first trip we ever took together was by train, from Chicago to Seattle. No internet access or phone service for two days. It was incredible, and stil one of my favorite trips we have ever taken.</span>
</br>
</br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TB-CbMKQhFM/UYk-OXGTPoI/AAAAAAAABQs/hVjBsSBRUdE/s1600/ST+05.12.10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" mwa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TB-CbMKQhFM/UYk-OXGTPoI/AAAAAAAABQs/hVjBsSBRUdE/s400/ST+05.12.10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 75%;"><center>
Puerto Rico, Summer 2010</center>
</span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;"> Todd will try anything. He is so brave. He works hard and dedicates himself to everything he does, even if he has no idea what he is doing. He figures it out, and then excels at it. He helps me realize that I can do more than I give myself credit for. If he can face his fear of sea monsters and get his scuba certification <i>(on our honeymoon!)</i>, then I can probably find the courage to do the things that scare me, too.</span>
</br>
</br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uHyWXzejKRs/UYl8-vgPA9I/AAAAAAAABQ8/Sh-gZ5lsv38/s1600/ST+07.22.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" mwa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uHyWXzejKRs/UYl8-vgPA9I/AAAAAAAABQ8/Sh-gZ5lsv38/s400/ST+07.22.11.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 75%;"><center>
Glacier National Park, Summer 2011</center>
</span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">One of the greatest things about Todd is how well he gets along with everyone. That, and his cute behind. But more so, because of how effortlessly he takes to people. He makes everyone feel at ease. And he lets me be silly and ridiculous and sad and mad and out-of-control-excited and whatever else I feel like being whenever I feel like being it. You might not be able to tell by how calm-cool-and-collected I look in all of these pictures, but I may have been voted "Biggest Mood Swings" my senior year of high school. <i>(Thanks, <a href="http://staceyemitchell.blogspot.com/2009/12/iron-maiden.html" target="_blank">Justin</a>.)</i></span>
</br>
</br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kc0tOsKjjG4/UYmAN9BGYDI/AAAAAAAABRI/6j6Nq-RRtCQ/s1600/ST+10.14.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" mwa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kc0tOsKjjG4/UYmAN9BGYDI/AAAAAAAABRI/6j6Nq-RRtCQ/s400/ST+10.14.12.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 75%;"><center>
Chicago, Fall 2012</center>
</span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">In short, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I have found my match. Or is it "met my match"? Either way, it's true. We have so much more life to experience together. It won't always be easy. "But at least it will be always."
</br>
</br>
Always,
</br>
Soon-to-Be Mrs. Garcia</span>
stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-68278185779890348622013-03-26T16:12:00.000-05:002014-04-08T11:05:26.204-05:00bauble troubles.<span style="font-size: 85%;">HELP! I can't decide what jewels to wear for The Big Day! <i>(Which is coming up SO FAST, btw.)</i> I've compiled some of my top contenders, and I need help choosing. I wish I could share some of the deets of the dress, but T-O-double-D looks at this here blog occasionally. Wouldn't want to spill the beans. I'm going for no necklace, clear-ish stones, gold. Pearls might be okay. Accent colors are coral and gray. Maybe a stack of bracelets? I can't decide!<br /><br />So let me know which combo you like best! Or by all means, send me a link to something awesome!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6eQxXhiBanM/UVIFzZ0gfqI/AAAAAAAABPQ/z-I7q3XZT3s/s1600/Ears.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6eQxXhiBanM/UVIFzZ0gfqI/AAAAAAAABPQ/z-I7q3XZT3s/s400/Ears.jpg" usa="true" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 75%;">1. <a href="http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/kate-spade-new-york-drop-earrings/3461861?origin=category&contextualcategoryid=0&fashionColor=WHITE%2F+GOLD&resultback=4668" target="_blank">kate spade teardrop</a>. $58. | 2. <a href="http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/kate-spade-new-york-drop-earrings/3429855?origin=category&contextualcategoryid=0&fashionColor=BLACK+DIAMOND%2F+GOLD&resultback=168" target="_blank">kate spade drop</a>. $48 | 3. <a href="http://shop.nordstrom.com/s/kate-spade-new-york-fragment-drop-earrings/3398013?origin=category&contextualcategoryid=0&fashionColor=&resultback=5400" target="_blank">kate spade fragment</a>. $78 <br />4. <a href="http://www.jcrew.com/womens_category/jewelry/earrings/PRDOVR~59677/59677.jsp" target="_blank">j.crew crystal bauble</a>. $68. | 5. <a href="http://www.jcrew.com/womens_category/jewelry/earrings/PRDOVR~48396/48396.jsp" target="_blank">j.crew venue flytrap</a>. $50.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_GOu9O-OU3Q/UVIF1IDipEI/AAAAAAAABPc/LTczjeNBRLY/s1600/Wrists.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_GOu9O-OU3Q/UVIF1IDipEI/AAAAAAAABPc/LTczjeNBRLY/s400/Wrists.jpg" usa="true" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 75%;">1. <a href="http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/givenchy-surf-lodge-breakers-line-bracelet/3429050?origin=category&contextualcategoryid=0&fashionColor=CLEAR+CRYSTAL%2F+GOLD&resultback=400" target="_blank">givenchy line</a>. clear. $65. | 2. faux tennis. mom. | 3. <a href="http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/givenchy-surf-lodge-breakers-line-bracelet/3429050?origin=category&contextualcategoryid=0&fashionColor=CLEAR+CRYSTAL%2F+GOLD&resultback=400" target="_blank">givenchy line</a>. coral. $65.<br />4. <a href="http://www.jcrew.com/womens_category/jewelry/bracelets/PRDOVR~48738/48738.jsp" target="_blank">j.crew pave link</a>. $125. | 5. <a href="http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/kate-spade-new-york-sailors-knot-hinged-bangle/3247584?origin=category&contextualcategoryid=0&fashionColor=&resultback=1600" target="_blank">kate spade knot</a>. $78. | 6. <a href="http://www.jcrew.com/womens_category/jewelry/bracelets/PRDOVR~52764/52764.jsp" target="_blank">j.crew crystal crush</a>. $118.</span></div>
<br />stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-30395636888267806762013-03-13T11:03:00.000-05:002014-04-08T11:05:00.046-05:00getting past the past.<span style="font-size: 85%;">I had the most conflicting, but heart-warming, dream last night. I dreamt that I was at some event - almost like summer camp - with all of my friends. Past and present. A couple of my exes were there. We talked. It was easy to remember the good things when their faces are staring back at you. And I started to think about how my life would have been different if I had ended up with any of them. I was swept away by memories of a certain time of my life. What might have been.<br />
<br />
Every now and then I would see Todd - in the bleachers, the field, the woods - lauging with friends, and he would smile at me when we saw each other. He was letting me figure something out for myself, but still observing. He wasn't jealous or mad. He was friendly with everyone. He's good like that.<br />
<br />
There was a very real moment towards the end of the dream when I was standing at a table, looking at these familiar faces that I have loved and will always care for, and I realized that those lives I may have had were not the one I wanted for myself. They weren't the life for who I am now. And a rush of clarity came over me - the only person I could think of was Todd. I love our life - our life is good. It's us.<br />
<br />
In my dream, it wasn't as if I was breaking up with anyone, or saying good-bye. I didn't run to Todd in the rain, crying, telling him I loved him and only him. Dream Todd already knew that. Real Todd does too. I was just giving myself permission to let go of the invisible ties that I allowed to remain in my subconsious. I will always hold the good memories in my heart, and care for those whose lives have crossed with mine, but I woke up feeling like a weight had been lifted. Like a responsibility had been relieved. And like my heart was so full of love and excitement to be married that I could burst.<br />
</span> stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-77280726483907008782013-02-15T16:35:00.001-06:002013-03-26T14:20:54.449-05:00one particular harbor.<i><span style="font-size: 85%;">I know I don't get there often enough,<br />
But God knows I surely try.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: 85%;">It's a magic kind of medicine <br />
That no doctor could prescribe.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: 85%;"><br /></span></i>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xrs1baqZTB4/UR63ZwnSzoI/AAAAAAAABOI/gX5ycebNbCI/s1600/semper+felix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="365" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xrs1baqZTB4/UR63ZwnSzoI/AAAAAAAABOI/gX5ycebNbCI/s400/semper+felix.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 75%;">always happy.</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;">Heading down for a healthy dose of Vitamin D.</span><br />
stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-73845874403822049602013-02-14T08:00:00.000-06:002013-02-14T10:31:35.439-06:00hey bub.<span style="font-size: 85%;">I was reading my usual daily blogs yesterday, when I came across a <a href="http://www.viewalongtheway.com/2013/02/hey-girl-come-link-up/" target="_blank">'link-party'</a> spoofing the <a href="http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/hey%20girl%20meme" target="_blank">Ryan Gosling "Hey Girl"</a> meme by having you hey-girl-ify your own man. Here's a quick example for all the ladies:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ykwO6zTiuxk/UR0OxjUjPcI/AAAAAAAABNc/TmgZ0g4ZcCQ/s1600/tumblr_matbkj569X1qf159go1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ykwO6zTiuxk/UR0OxjUjPcI/AAAAAAAABNc/TmgZ0g4ZcCQ/s400/tumblr_matbkj569X1qf159go1_500.jpg" uea="true" width="366" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 75%;"><a href="http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/hey%20girl%20meme" target="_blank">via.</a></span><br />
<br />
</div><span style="font-size: 85%;">Now, I'm no pro at this blogging thing, and I've never really understood what a 'link-party' was or how to participate, but adding text to images I can do. And since Todd got called out on the blog earlier this week, here is his redemption. <i>(I imagine he'd say </i><strong>most</strong><i> of these in real life.)</i></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JcP_QdiETr0/URwV47ySGAI/AAAAAAAABMg/UnvTBNmIjSM/s1600/hey+girl+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" oncontextmenu="alert("Image context menu is disabled");return false;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JcP_QdiETr0/URwV47ySGAI/AAAAAAAABMg/UnvTBNmIjSM/s400/hey+girl+5.jpg" uea="true" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bgLE5uTZOwc/URwVtGWSDZI/AAAAAAAABMY/vIn9WwLEea4/s1600/hey+girl+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" oncontextmenu="alert("Image context menu is disabled");return false;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bgLE5uTZOwc/URwVtGWSDZI/AAAAAAAABMY/vIn9WwLEea4/s400/hey+girl+2.jpg" uea="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hMMvnUpo8kI/URwSlqRbG5I/AAAAAAAABLo/0GzYfT_WWu0/s1600/hey+girl+6.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" oncontextmenu="alert("Image context menu is disabled");return false;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hMMvnUpo8kI/URwSlqRbG5I/AAAAAAAABLo/0GzYfT_WWu0/s400/hey+girl+6.jpg" width="400" /></a></center><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LdVIKNEXF4g/URwSwaFjI5I/AAAAAAAABL4/yYRr6fnei98/s1600/hey+girl+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oncontextmenu="alert("Image context menu is disabled");return false;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LdVIKNEXF4g/URwSwaFjI5I/AAAAAAAABL4/yYRr6fnei98/s400/hey+girl+3.jpg" width="330" /></a></div><br />
<center><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2qh6dpIajl4/URwSxulINvI/AAAAAAAABMA/mc5L6FwXXj0/s1600/hey+girl+7.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" oncontextmenu="alert("Image context menu is disabled");return false;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2qh6dpIajl4/URwSxulINvI/AAAAAAAABMA/mc5L6FwXXj0/s640/hey+girl+7.jpg" width="425" /></a></center><center> </center><center><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WR8rDqePeRA/URwS0wB0c0I/AAAAAAAABMI/Hv4QV48RkSU/s1600/hey+girl+4.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" oncontextmenu="alert("Image context menu is disabled");return false;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WR8rDqePeRA/URwS0wB0c0I/AAAAAAAABMI/Hv4QV48RkSU/s400/hey+girl+4.jpg" width="400" /></a></center><center> </center><center><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JH2AaViOjNU/URwS19UnY2I/AAAAAAAABMQ/Yj2Kv_15GOY/s1600/hey+girl+1.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" oncontextmenu="alert("Image context menu is disabled");return false;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JH2AaViOjNU/URwS19UnY2I/AAAAAAAABMQ/Yj2Kv_15GOY/s400/hey+girl+1.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 75%;">For <a href="http://staceyemitchell.blogspot.com/2013/02/love-and-hotdogs.html" target="_blank">Monday</a>. xo </span></center><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: 85%;">Happy Valentine's Day! Sending you all lots of love, today and everyday! XOXO</span><br />
<br />
stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-90836820939515687642013-02-11T15:11:00.000-06:002013-03-26T14:21:04.884-05:00love and hotdogs.<span style="font-size: 85%">In honor of Valentine's Day this week, I really wanted to make sure that I saved the following screenshots for posterity. Below is a side-by-side compaison of my and Todd's current Facebook cover photos and profile pictures:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QSPRKJ_Qxzo/URlcSjWmB5I/AAAAAAAABLQ/jAqkQKc3SjQ/s1600/FB%2BComparison.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="385" width="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QSPRKJ_Qxzo/URlcSjWmB5I/AAAAAAAABLQ/jAqkQKc3SjQ/s400/FB%2BComparison.png" /></a></div><br />
<b>My page</b>: Awww, so cute. Engagement photos.<br />
<b>Todd's page</b>: Headshot. Hotdog. <br />
<i>(At least it says "love" on it?... And am I the only one that thinks it looks like he's smirking </i>AT<i> the hotdog? "I'm gonn eat the sh*t out of you...")</i><br />
<br />
My man. I love him so.</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-27160393947523027512013-01-29T13:25:00.000-06:002013-01-29T13:25:57.018-06:00let's go.<span style="font-size:85%">I'm going to be honest with you <i>(whoever 'you' are that may still check on this blog after a five month hiatus)</i>. 2012 sucked. It started out bad. Day 1: Bad. And we were just never able to climb back up from there. It was like the whole year was spent trying to swim against the current. A rip current. With an undertoe. It was rough.<br />
<br />
There were a few bright moments. <i>(<a href="http://staceyemitchell.blogspot.com/2012/05/stacked.html">Sparkly</a>, even!)</i> Three of my best friends got married. <i>(Two of them to each other!)</i> Todd and I had an amazing vacation, and got engaged. We took a few quick trips, and had some fun times with family and friends.<br />
<br />
But right after those lovely moments, there was always a cloud right behind us ready to gloom things up again. It wasn't any one thing. And it wasn't everything either. But no matter how many times you try to tell yourself "Be positive. Things could be worse.", it's hard to believe it in the moment.<br />
<br />
What made things worse was the fact that this was supposed to be the most wonderful year of my life. Being engaged. Planning our wedding. These are things that I have looked forward to for a long time. But, full disclosure: wedding planning is not all cake and flowers. Fullest disclosure: sometimes it flat out sucks. But also, sometimes you luck out and find yourself with a partner who just wants you to be happy and stress-free and who has great ideas and really good taste <i>(in ladies)</i>. So I will never, ever, ever take credit for how wonderful our wedding is about to turn out. And it is going to be awesome. And it is going to be mostly Todd's fault. <br />
<br />
I don't want to jinx anything, but I think 2013 is going to be great. It might be a backwards-ly optimistic way to look at it, but honestly, "It couldn't be worse than last year." I'm trying to wake up everyday with a positive attitude. So far, it's worked about 70% of the time. But that's better than 0%.<br />
<br />
And just to ensure that this post ends positively <i>(because Gloom & Doom is sooo 2012)</i> here are some joy-enducing insta-images from the last month or so. Things are looking up. It's 2013. Let's go.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KgxAs-8zBic/UQgg2nS55cI/AAAAAAAABKo/6IDpLfxVXEA/s1600/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KgxAs-8zBic/UQgg2nS55cI/AAAAAAAABKo/6IDpLfxVXEA/s400/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vi93f5HxRpA/UQgg7Y97WcI/AAAAAAAABK0/5oqKhMWpFgs/s1600/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vi93f5HxRpA/UQgg7Y97WcI/AAAAAAAABK0/5oqKhMWpFgs/s400/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KMoZpg9CKOU/UQgfpHSvWWI/AAAAAAAABKE/WIoehiNkUT4/s1600/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KMoZpg9CKOU/UQgfpHSvWWI/AAAAAAAABKE/WIoehiNkUT4/s400/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B5.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zcc_wMRK-0Y/UQggBtXRk2I/AAAAAAAABKQ/S0HONowb6qI/s1600/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="201" width="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zcc_wMRK-0Y/UQggBtXRk2I/AAAAAAAABKQ/S0HONowb6qI/s400/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B4.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3jcMHUDAYWg/UQggdzVcMMI/AAAAAAAABKc/eUW-rf0DoO4/s1600/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3jcMHUDAYWg/UQggdzVcMMI/AAAAAAAABKc/eUW-rf0DoO4/s400/2013%2BGood%2BStart%2B3.jpg" /></a></div></span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-22080989833665407952012-08-24T09:36:00.000-05:002013-01-29T13:29:29.235-06:00three year special.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-srgbxhW1mlo/UGSB-l29YTI/AAAAAAAABIE/KYt_BeK8xxw/s1600/3rd_birthday_cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="298" width="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-srgbxhW1mlo/UGSB-l29YTI/AAAAAAAABIE/KYt_BeK8xxw/s400/3rd_birthday_cake.jpg" /></a></div><center>Another birthday for <font color="#a1b058"><b>comeback special</b></font>!</center><br />
<span style="font-size:85%;">I've sort of fallen off the blogging train recently. There hasn't been a lot going on except wedding stuff, and I don't want this to become a wedding blog. There are a lot more interesting things in life than that! <i>(But I'm sure I'll end up sharing some projects now and then. We're working on really awesome Save-the-Dates right now!)</i> Well, here's to another year! May it be happy, healthy and productive!</span><br />
stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-30977910418444148772012-08-13T16:15:00.001-05:002013-01-29T13:28:57.940-06:00my kind of town(s).<span style="font-size: 85%;">I don't know what started it, but I am feeling an awful lot of home-town pride lately. And not just Worthington or Ohio. Last night, as Todd and I were driving back into the city after a wedding weekend in Worthington, I was hit with an overwhelming sense of <i>home</i>. This city has been so good to me for the past eight years, and I don't often give it enough credit. So as we made our way through Chinatown and Pilsen and Ukranian Village and Bucktown to get to our humble apartment in Logan Square, I was suprised by the surge of pride that rushed through me. "I live <i>here</i>," I thought. And then I looked over at Todd as he navigated the side streets to avoid the traffic on I-90/94. "WE live <i>here</i>." This is our home, together. I'm not alone here - I never have been. More and more family has made their way to Chicago. Our lives are expanding in this town - marriages, babies, partners, jobs. We love each other, and we are at each others' fingertips if anyone ever needs a helping hand.<br />
<br />
Whenever I wear a t-shirt rep'ing Columbus or Ohio or Worthington, I am not doing it for the athletics. <i>(Sorry, Buckeye fans!)</i> For me, The Ohio State University, the Columbus Clippers, the Crew, script Ohio, all of those mean "Home". They mean "Family". They mean "Friends". They all stand for where I was raised; where I came from; where my family is; where my Home is, was and always will be.<br />
<br />
But now I realize that I have those same feelings about Chicago. Chicago is where I am now - where all the rest has led me to. It is where I moved in with my sister when my first plans didn't work out. <i>(Sorry, Pittsburgh. But not that sorry.)</i> It is where I made grown up decisions about life. It is where my 'neice' was born. It is where I met the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with. It is where we will will be married. It is where we live, together. This is also where my Home is.<br />
<br />
I have a family here, beyond my own cousins. Friends that I have known for years. Friends that are way beyond "friends". We've been family from day one. Todd's extended family is here. They all open their homes, hearts and lives to us, and I feel so fortunate. So blessed. When I wear my Cubs gear, I am wearing it for my Chicago life, my Chicago family, my Chicago Home.<br />
<br />
And in our last four years together, we've spent a lot of time in Todd's own hometown. Milwaukee and Wisconsin have found their way into my bloodstream. The lakeshore, the parks, the cheese, the beer, the sausage, the Packers. Todd's parents have been so welcoming, it is impossible for me not to feel comfortable there. It is a beautiful place. And if I root for the Packers for any reason, above all else, it is for Todd's home. (And, well, his mom's cooking.) That is where he was raised; where he came from; where his Home is. And it is mine now, too. <br />
<br />
How lucky am I two have three homes? <i>(With great sports teams, through which we can show our pride! Go Buckeyes / Clippers / Crew / Cubbies / Packers! ...I don't much care for hockey. Or professional basketball.)</i><br />
<br />
Now, houses? That's a whole 'nother story. Ask me in about three to five years.<br />
</span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-54334410409252977382012-07-25T16:09:00.000-05:002012-07-25T16:09:35.698-05:00summer lovings.<span style="font-size: 85%;">There is a lot of love flowing this summer. First our engagement in May, then my number one Lindsay's wedding in June (which was so wonderful, and you can read all about it and see pictures from their *magical* honeymoon <a href="http://lifesdailydelights.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">here</a> on her blog), and in August, one of my oldest friends, Heather, is getting married in our hometown. But this weekend... we have been waiting for this weekend for over a year. This weekend two of our best friends, Leah and Dan, will be tying the knot in a beautiful DIY "Burlap & Lace" barn wedding in Watervilet, MI. I'll be standing up as a bridesmaid, and I'm so excited to be a part of their day/weekend/life.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="width:440px;margin:0 auto"><div style="position:relative;"><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/summer_loving/set?.embedder=1195642&.svc=copypaste&id=54311288"><img width="440" alt="summer loving." src="http://cfc.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-set/.sig/qiRCIp3uGdI41uQvbkWfhw/cid/54311288/id/v5d76NV3S8eTgQmPe2qqVA/size/c600x501.jpg" title="summer loving." height="374" border="0" /></a></div></div><br />stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537673276104283558.post-39643009175231800962012-05-29T17:11:00.000-05:002013-01-29T13:30:23.987-06:00stacked.<span style="font-size: 85%;">Well, the word is out - Todd and I are engaged!<br />
<br />
He proposed while we were in St. Thomas, USVI celebrating four years of being cute, being gross, being hilarious and being in love. <i>(That's just a little sampling of the "cute" and "gross".)</i> And yes, he did ask my dad's permission before hand. And yes, we did look at rings together before hand. And yes, he still caught me completely off guard!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XRsnW76JNJE/T8VDafrtHyI/AAAAAAAABE0/4Z6KyOrkryc/s1600/ST%2B-%2BMorning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XRsnW76JNJE/T8VDafrtHyI/AAAAAAAABE0/4Z6KyOrkryc/s320/ST%2B-%2BMorning.jpg" /></a></div><br />
It was the end of our first full day, and Todd had just made a delicious dinner that we ate on the balcony. I told him how lucky I am that he is good at so many things that I am not good at. <i>(Like cooking and carrying luggage, among other arguably more important things.)</i> And vice versa. He agreed, saying - as he always does - "We make a great team." A few minutes later, he cleared the table and returned to the balcony with his hands behind his back looking a little suspicious. I laugh-cried through the whole thing. The next thing I knew, we were engaged!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iaQrao1HYxg/T8VDJ_GEmsI/AAAAAAAABEo/mKabiAjLGWM/s1600/ST%2B-%2BEngagement%2B8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iaQrao1HYxg/T8VDJ_GEmsI/AAAAAAAABEo/mKabiAjLGWM/s320/ST%2B-%2BEngagement%2B8.jpg" /></a></div><br />
We had actually been looking at rings online for awhile. A lot of the things we looked at were very gorgeous. Very sparlkly. And very not-me. We finally went into a couple stores to try things on a week before the trip. Some good. Some bad. One perfect. He didn't buy anything while I was with him because he wanted the final decision to be a surprise. But I was really hoping he would go with a certan option. So, when he opened the box and the yellow gold "rope" style ring was inside, I thought to myself "HE KNOWS ME SO WELL!" And also, "OHJEEZE WE'RE GETTING ENGAGED <i>RIGHT NOW</i>!"<br />
<br />
Instead of a larger sparkly ring, Todd and I came up with the idea of a small stack of skinny rings that I can mix-and-match after we're married. The day after we got back from our trip, Todd took me to get "Part 2" of our engament ring.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--cQJlTCT2w0/T8VEPFX0O9I/AAAAAAAABFA/cIo9W6E49sQ/s1600/ST%2B-%2BTiffanys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--cQJlTCT2w0/T8VEPFX0O9I/AAAAAAAABFA/cIo9W6E49sQ/s320/ST%2B-%2BTiffanys.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I know, I know. I'm a brat. <i>(A brat with gray hair.)</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8fD1n_OEnTA/T8VFgWKNBNI/AAAAAAAABFM/CE6VZtmbhls/s1600/ST%2B-%2BEngagement%2B9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8fD1n_OEnTA/T8VFgWKNBNI/AAAAAAAABFM/CE6VZtmbhls/s320/ST%2B-%2BEngagement%2B9.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I love them.<br />
<br />
And this is what the final stack will look like. I am so excited about what Todd chose that I just want to wear them all now! He says if I want the third ring, I'll have to marry him to get it. Oh, darn.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_4jyLUGz0GQ/T8VGKJxqYCI/AAAAAAAABFY/czyYKjsI76c/s1600/Tiffany%2BStack%2B1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_4jyLUGz0GQ/T8VGKJxqYCI/AAAAAAAABFY/czyYKjsI76c/s200/Tiffany%2BStack%2B1.png" /></a></div></span>stacey erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07868130863292025409noreply@blogger.com4