First comes love...

When I went to wake Amaru up at zero-dark-thirty this morning, he told me he'd just had a most peculiar dream. 

He dreamt I was nine months pregnant and we were walking up stairs. Lots and lots of stairs in a house that apparently had lots and lots of staircases. Once we got to the top, I went into labor. 

I'm paraphrasing here, but I believe his next thoughts were something like:

"Holy sh** she's really having a kid."

And then I'm sure he had something of a deep-sleep heart attack before he realized that we'd already arranged for some nice adoptive couple to take the thing. Saved.

I have to say the little shyster seemed awfully happy to have woken up from that dream. If I had had my wits about me I'd have realized it was the perfect time to tell him we're pregnant. 

We're not, people!! (and by people, I mean mom). 

But I think that little bugger needs a good scare every once in a while. Keeps him on his toes!

Now I would normally try to figure out the deeper meaning of a dream like that, but in this particular case, I think it had more to do with the fact that shortly before we went to bed last night, Amaru accepted a substitute teaching position in a preschool for today. And his subconscious was subconsciously preparing him for a day amongst the babies or something.

So then, hours later when we got home after work, I logged in to catch up on my Facebook crack and I noticed lots and lots of comments on this photo, which Amaru posted last night:

Yeah so apparently he accidentally posted it into an album titled "A few wedding photos."

The commenters were concerned, and not just with the idea that I may have chosen to wear a dingy gray sweater in my wedding photos:

"Did you guys get married??" asked a friend.

"Anything you want to share?" asked my cousin.

"Hahaha," wrote Amaru's buddy.

Once we discovered the little Facebook snafu, Amaru wrote a nice thorough explanation, just to put everyone's mind at ease. But apparently people don't find him all that trustworthy because it was followed by another one of the "did you get hitched" questions.

So that was my day. Had a baby before 6 a.m. and was married by late afternoon. I may not do stuff in order, but I damn sure don't waste any time setting things right.

Decked the Halls

Isn't there something about tree-trimming that calls for a warm wintry beverage? Like hot cocoa or peppermint tea?

Or warm apple cider?

We opted for the spiked variety. My first three sips of my first mug-full were delish. Then I kicked it all over the carpet. But my second mug-full was a fine runner-up.

We picked out a little five-footer last weekend at a Christmas tree barn near our house. It's a short skinny one that ended up fitting perfectly in our bitty little apartment. It's been so warm here that it's been tough to get in the holiday spirit, but that's nothing a little tree-decorating and Kenny G Christmas music can't solve.

Now that we're a mere two weeks away from my very favorite holiday of the year, I'm sure I'll be hastening up on the holiday festivities. Amaru and I (yep, his name's Amaru. I'm sick of the charade.) are trying to be super vigilant about pinching pennies this year, by forgoing exchanging gifts with each other and by focusing on thoughtful, un-spendy (word?) gifts for our family members. I'm determined that mine will be either entirely homemade or will be purchased from a little local vendor rather than a big box store. Or they will be books. You can't go wrong with books, and I stocked up on a few great gift-y ones at the Ashfield Fall Festival I went to in October.

It kind of ties in to another little social/environmental experiment I'm working on. Which requires that I not purchase a new piece of clothing for an entire year, among other things. Sound tough? It sure is. But I've been at it for two-plus months and I'm determined to go the distance. I'll tell you all about it in an  upcoming post.

For now, I'm off to blog-surf in bed 'till Amaru wakes up. Then I'm looking forward to a weekend full of Christmas baking (and breakfast-making. I'm dying to try this recipe for gingerbread pancakes), a little dinner shindig at my aunt and uncle's, and a Sunday Christmas shopping spectacular.

What's everyone else doing this weekend? If anyone's going to see The Nutcracker ballet, don't even bother responding. I'll die of jealousy.

Sorry for the crap-o pictures. Still using my iPhone as a camera. 

Tis the Season...

...to begin blogging again. I think. 

I've become one of those bloggers that drives me crazy. Drops in every couple months to say how hectic things have been but now she's back in the saddle and then drops right back out again. 

So I'll try a different line. Because the truth is, it's not that I'm too busy. I've had so much more free time since I made the eastward move, I barely even know what to do with myself. My work day ends at 2:30 now, and though that only leaves me about two more hours of daylight, my days now feel endless. 

But the funny thing is, now that I have all this extra time on my hands, I'm finding new and creative ways to waste it. And by creative, I mean totally UN-creative (is that a word?) 

Mostly, that means finding new blogs to stalk, rearranging all my knick-knacks in the no-longer-so-new apartment, and trying to find storage space where there simply is none. I've also spent all kinds of time away from my new home, visiting friends who are now within driving distance, shooting over to the Cape to see my grandmother, shacking up with my aunt and uncle for a week after Mother Nature (bless her heart) dumped two feet of snow on us two days before Halloween. No power and no school for five days. It was actually kind of fun, especially the part where we got to cuddle up in front of my aunt's woodstove. 

There's another thing that's been stopping me from coming back. 

The writing. 

I was sick of it. And so glad to be free of writing every day. Apart from a freelance piece I wrote in October, I haven't had a story deadline looming over me in nearly three months. And that's been glorious, in many ways. It's come as a bit of a relief, too, I think. That this new career direction I've embarked on is not for nuthin. That somewhere off ahead of me there's some career that will fit like my favorite cozy sweater, and not make me feel like an anxious, bumbling headcase 99 percent of the time. 

Where was I?

I was a little burned out on the writing. And now I'm finding that I miss it. So there you go. I'm back to blogging. But without the stress. It's the holiday season, my absolute favorite time of year to have absolutely no commitments beyond nostalgic Christmas-themed activities. Watching It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street, and of course, Home Alone. Drinking spiked eggnog. Then switching to cider, since I never really cared for eggnog. Trimming the tree. Soaking in that amazing scent of pine needles, even as they gather in little prickly mountains on the floor. 

Ahh. I love it all. 

So I will be enjoying it all. And dropping in whenever I feel like it to post a blog. It may be five days a week, or it may be one. Who knows. No commitments! No pressure! No nail-biting! New Megan!!

Well, we'll just have to see about that one. 

My new home. The Pioneer Valley. 

Catching up

Oh my. 

Has it really been almost a month?

I'm a bad blogger. 

I hope you'll forgive me, but I've been dealing with non-stop travel, followed by moving halfway across the country, followed by no internet, followed by a crap-tastic internet connection. Comcast, if you're out there reading this, I hate you with the fire of a thousand suns. 

But anyway. I'm back! We're all moved in and officially New Englanders again. And just in time, I tell you. It took forever for the leaves to change this year, thanks to all the rain, but they finally popped last week, and now I'm enjoying the spectacular fall colors in the best possible place on the planet (in my humble opinion.) I meant to get some photos on our grocery store run this afternoon, but I forgot my phone. But I promise, it looks just like this:

via

Okay maybe not quite that color-dense. But it's purty out there, believe me.

I'm going to try to catch up little by little, but for now, I'll give you a little photo preview of the past two months, during which I've written maybe one post. (Yikes. Not getting off to a good start in the blogging world).

Here goes:

September wedding

With my momma and sis

Family reunion! 

Country Kensie

Photo shoot in Katama

Classic fall weekend in Western Mass. 

Pumpkin pancakes with New York maple syrup



Life doesn't get much better than this. I'm so happy with the move, with my first week substitute teaching (more on that later!), with our sweet little apartment, with the abundance of fresh local food available here, and with all the extra time I have to experiment with it.

As I write, Alex is hard at work in the kitchen himself, slaving away over a batch of salteñas, which according to Wikipedia are Bolivian baked empanadas, and according to Alex are savory treats fit for the gods. His cousin, who is originally from Bolivia but moved to France after she met and married a Frenchman, is currently talking him through the recipe on Skype from Grenoble. In Spanish. I've got about five different corners of the globe represented in one way or another in my kitchen right now. It's awesome.

On that note, I'll leave you. I need to devote my full attention to their conversation, so to brush up on my Spanish vocab. And I can't do that while typing. Only while pinning. Which is also next on my to do list...

Chau!

Update

Okay, so I know I haven't posted in ages, but it's only because I've been traveling so much I haven't had time. We've been apartment-hunting, job-hunting, and catching up with long-lost family out east during this first leg of our move back to Massachusetts. 

I promise, there are lots of travel stories and photos to come, but since we don't have an official home for the next two weeks, but a series of crash-pads across several different states, it will take a bit more time for me to get back on track blog-wise. 

Please hang in there!

Chicago top ten: Experiences (Part V)

Thanksgiving with Mom

I kept pestering my mother to change her travel plans for last Thanksgiving. She was all geared up to go to California, to visit her brother, her brother-in-law, and I don't even know who else. But I wanted her in Chicago. Well luck was on my side, and her west coast plans got derailed. So Chicago it was. 

She stayed for a whole week, which in my opinion was not long enough. It was great. I had just started a new job after two months of frantic job hunting, so I was feeling a bit more settled, while still looking forward to my first long-weekend holiday off of work. 


I let mom and Alex take on most of the cooking, as I was still, ahem, working on honing my skills. But I contributed by cleaning up the kitchen while they relaxed on the couch watching movies.

Cheers!

Check out that blustery November evening on the
other side of those windows! So much
cozier inside!

Frosty's sign says "Will work for freezer space."

In that week we covered all the important bases. We stayed up late chatting and drinking wine. We watched our favorite holiday movies, including Love, Actually, the ultimate Christmas chick flick. And we were generous enough to let Alex join in on the girlie fun. Lucky guy.  

We went out to brunch, went antiquing, caught a show. We ate a fancy dinner out, and or course, prepared the whopping, delicious dinner in for the big night, which took us about four nights to eat in total. It was wonderful. We got a small turkey since there were only three of us and made all kinds of delish side dishes, including the classics like creamy mashed potatoes, stuffing and squash. Alex contributed with his grandmother's corn casserole and green bean casserole recipes, and we stuffed our fat little faces until we couldn't eat another bite. Then we watched Stand By Me, which Alex had never seen. I tell you, it's a good thing he has me to show him the way, in all things movie-related. What's life without Lollipop?

I always love Thanksgiving. But this one made our new Chicago home feel so much homier. 

The House of Blues

This wasn't actually at the House of Blues. Actually, it started there, but wasn't supposed to.

My friend Paul, who I met during my semester in Buenos Aires and currently lives in Dublin, was in Chicago for a short visit. We had to get together, just had to. It had been nearly three years since our South American adventures! Time for a reunion!

He told us to meet him and his mates at the House of Blues downtown. So we went. We waited. We called. He said he was already there. We took a look around, but didn't see him. We waited some more.   We called some more. 

And then we discovered the mix-up. Paul was not actually at the House of Blues, but at Buddy Guy's Legends, a nightclub that could certainly qualify as a house of blues, though that isn't its actual name. Luckily, Legends wasn't too far away. Alex and I hopped in a cab and headed over. 

It was so nice to see him, and brought so many memories of my favorite foreign travel experience flooding back to me. So we drank some beers, listened to the legendary Buddy Guy perform at the legendary Legends, and went on our merry ways later that night. 

I didn't snap any photos that night, but here are a few from our travels:

Golf-carting quite illegally on a beach in Colonia, Uruguay.

Celebrating Paul's last night in BsAs at a favorite swanky restaurant.  

At the residencia where we lived. 

Another shot from our weekend in Uruguay.

Two of my best friends and I had a weeklong trip to Ireland all planned out for the Spring of 2010, and  plans to meet up with Paul during our visit, but a volcano grounded planes and screwed up international travel royally for about a week. So we grudgingly went to Miami instead. 


So of course I was psyched that I got the chance to see him again in the States. But next time, I am determined that it will be during my yet-unplanned follow-up visit to Ireland. 

Chicago top ten: Experiences (Part IV)

Shopping at Whole Foods

Sometime last winter, Alex and I decided to watch Food, Inc. Big mistake. Or not so big mistake, in the end. But at first, it made me sick.  

I was so repulsed by everything in that film, from the inhumane treatment of animals to the inhumane treatment of humans to the poorly handled food products that I promised myself I'd change my own behavior, starting with the food I purchase. 

And I did. And this eating makeover brought me to Whole Foods. Alex and I started shopping there almost exclusively, choosing organic, free range, and fair trade items whenever possible. Let me tell you, if you haven't been to the Lincoln Park Whole Foods, you haven't lived. This is like the mecca of ethical shopping. The store is enormous, and on any given Saturday or Sunday you can find about a million free samples scattered about. Tortilla chips and fresh guac! Chunks of brie smeared with fruit preserves! Wine sampling stations!

It was heaven. We made it a weekly ritual, and though our grocery bill went sky-frickin-high when we started shopping at Whole Foods, we didn't care. We felt so much better about what we were eating, and it felt like a treat every week just to pull out our shopping list. Most shopping days started with a trip to the bar, beer for him, wine for me, before we took off, drinks-in-hand, to fill our cart. At the end of our spree, we'd head over to the restaurant section and spend forever agonizing over what to bring home for dinner. Deli? Diner? Taqueria? Pizzeria? Who could choose?

We usually went with the buffet-style prepared foods, like sweet potato chunks, roasted Brussels sprouts, beets for him (blech for me), cold quinoa or kale salads, or grilled veggies. Yum, yum, yum. 

We've gone a bit astray in the past month or so, as we try to pinch our pennies for impending unemployment. But we actually have some big plans for the coming months, which you'll hear about at a bit of a later date. Here's hoping that the Whole Foods in western Mass. is half as good as the one we fell in love with here. 

Some of our favorite Whole Foods booty:

Veggies and mushrooms and fruit, oh my!

Mixed greens with dried cranberries, slivered dry roasted almonds,  and feta.
Homemade balsamic vinaigrette on top. 

Portobello veggie burgers on whole grain buns. Plus provolone!

First day at PAWS

Back last winter, back when I was trying to find productive ways to fill my cold, dull days while Alex was out of town, I decided to get involved with PAWS Chicago, a massive animal rescue and adoption effort in Chicagoland. The fact that PAWS is a no-kill shelter was the first selling point. The idea of walking other dogs to help keep me from missing my McKensie was the second. And the off-chance I'd show up one day to a batch of spankin-new puppies? I didn't even dare to dream it. 

And yet, it happened. My very first day on the "job."

Let me tell you about these little lovers. They were born to a momma named Valentine, and then rescued from a puppy farm somewhere in Missouri. I won't get into the vileness of puppy farms -- if you don't know, look them up for yourself. But the pups were little tiny angels. There must have been a dozen of them, and as soon as I entered their little room, they were all over me. They wanted attention and affection, and lots of it. They wanted to sleep in my arms, crawl in my lap, eat my sweatshirt strings. I don't know that I did much "volunteering" that day, besides wiping up a few puppy poops, but no one seemed to care. Those PAWS peeps were just happy to have someone to keep the little buggers occupied for a few hours. 

That day, I took turns playing with the puppies and walking some of the older dogs. The pups were still too young for outdoor strolls, but Valentine was psyched for a chance to stretch her legs. By the end of the day, when I got back from my last walk, there were only two puppies left. All the rest had been fostered out. I didn't mind too much. I was glad to see them find a home (and frankly, to see them find a home before I could rationalize bringing them all back to my home). 

That day was pure bliss for me. It made me think very seriously of trying to find a full-time job in an animal shelter or veterinary clinic. I still think about it, from time to time, though I know that I'd have a really hard time watching some of the tough stuff, like animals that have suffered abuse, or sick babes that have to be put down. Yikes. I'd lose it. 

In my months of volunteering, I never hit the puppy jackpot again. I did get to walk a few very young, cuddly pups, but none quite as new to the world as those little fuzzies. It was just perfect timing, and an overall perfect day.

Chicago top ten: Experiences (Part III)

Christmas in Chicago

Okay, this one's a bit of a stretch. It's not so much a single experience as a big fat group of them.

I love Christmas. I still get that giddy feeling in my stomach during the holidays that I got when I was ten years old. Something about the abundance of holiday cheer, holiday music, holiday smells, and especially those special moments stuffing my face with mouthwatering hors d'oeuvres at holiday parties. Yum.

Anywho, last November, I landed this writing gig for Groupon, as you readers may well know from previous posts. It started out at a big ol' office building about a 10 minutes from my apartment. But two days after Thanksgiving break, we moved. Downtown. To a high-rise on Wacker Drive with it's head way up in the clouds. The view of Lake Michigan was spectacular, and way up there we could see the snowflakes practically before they fully formed. 

That meant a morning el commute, coupled with a walk from the nearest station to the new office home. Some folks chose to take advantage of the underground walkway that allegedly got you the whole way without braving the biting winter winds (I made a go of it several times. And ended up somewhere in Milwaukee. I'd like to have a word with the guy responsible for planning these underground mazes.)

But really, those wintry walks along decked-out Chicago sidewalks were heaven to me. The Macy's building twinkled with red, green and silver decor. Shimmery Christmas trees sparkled from the glass windows of an office vestibule. My earbuds stayed planted in my ears, providing a backdrop of classic Christmas tunes. The wind could be brutal, but I was in heaven. 

These pics are pretty lousy, but you get the idea. 

Love those sparkly lights.

The Music Box Theater for Taxi Driver

This event happened thanks to Groupon's "Now" deals. One lazy Saturday early this summer, I stumbled upon a twenty dollar deal for movie tickets, popcorn and soda for two. It was for a quaint looking little theater up north called The Music Box, the kind of place I always imagined myself owning someday. A theater that shows only those movies I love best, and serves cocktails to wash down your air-popped popcorn. 

I scurried over to the theater's website to discover a late screening of Taxi Driver scheduled for that night. Sold. 

You see, I had never seen Taxi Driver. And I'd heard many, many times that it's a film all film lovers should see. To be fair, I know there are lots of movies that fit into that category. But I adore Robert De Niro. And Martin Scorsese. It was high time I saw one of their great earlier collaborations. 

And let's not forget about Jodie.

Alex and I headed up there a little early, and made a beeline for the Dairy Queen we spotted on the way, to kill some time before the movie. Soft serve ice cream, a heaping bucket of movie theater popcorn and the chance to watch a film classic for the first time on the big screen? Spells perfection to me. 

Chicago top ten: Experiences (Part II)

Billy Elliot

This was a little early Christmas gift from my dad. When mom's plans to head to California for Thanksgiving got derailed, she decided to come visit us in Chi-town instead. So dad sprung for three tickets to Billy Elliot at the Oriental Theater. That's where dad and I had gone to see Wicked when I first visited Chicago, and we were just blown away.

Dad made me promise to keep quiet about the ticket, so we only told my mom the night before the show. We surprised her over dinner at a little Italian restaurant, and the next night, we all got decked out and bundled up and hit the el heading downtown. At the theater, we toasted with champagne and then sat back to watch the show. I have to say, Billy Elliot wasn't nearly as impressive as Wicked, or some of my other favorites like Lion King and Phantom of the Opera. But I love to sit back and have some Broadway folk belt out songs and dance circles in front of me. So exciting.

All gussied up!

Monte's opening

So the whole Chicago thing came about when Alex's friend from college gave him a line on a job at the photography firm where he worked. Lucas was working as an assistant to the company president, and though Alex would make a good assistant to one of the photographers. When he got the job and we moved out here, Lucas let us crash in his guest room for a month while we found a place of our own. So for the first few weeks here, we had two roomies, Lucas and his then-boyfriend (now fiance!) Monte, a very talented artist. In fact, when we arrived, the guest room walls were covered in Monte's sculptures. But they moved out shortly thereafter, and moved into the studio space where Monte had a very successful opening a few days (weeks?) later.

This event sticks out in my mind because I feel like it marks the night when I stopped feeling like such an outsider and began to feel more comfortable in this new little crowd. I mean, Alex and Lucas knew each other from way back, Alex had met Monte when he went to Chicago for the job interview, and Monte and Lucas were a long-time couple. I was new in so many ways. Even my relationship with Alex still felt very young. Probably because it was still very young.

So the night of Monte's opening, I got to meet some of Alex's coworkers, some of Lucas' and Monte's friends, and I got to check out Monte's incredible artwork, all in a sweet studio setting. He ended up getting some great press for that show, and I remember feeling super lucky that I had gotten to see it.

Over the past year, we've spent lots and lots of time with Lucas and Monte, and I just adore them both. But I look back on that opening as the turning point. And things seem to have come full circle, as they always do, because Monte is getting ready to unveil another (slightly different, I think) show in the next few weeks here. I just hope we'll be around to see it again!

One of Monte's many gorgeous sculptures.

Check out more of Monte's work here.