Merry Christmas!

Christmas in Florida is different, but good. I miss some of my family's traditional holiday events: my dad's annual store party, Christmas Eve at our house, even freezing while opening gifts in the drafty family room. But there's something to be said about the Floridian style of celebrating that my parents have adopted. It's relaxing, in the sit-by-the-pool-and-crack-a-beer way. Plus, it's warm. Of course, we've carried on some of our traditions. Mom and I made a big Italian dinner last night and pizzelles a couple days before that. And as always, our stockings were stuffed by Santa when I woke up this morning. But we've also added a couple new twists: a post-dinner bike ride down to the beach last night and sun tanning by the pool. This is a pretty nice change.

Sarge

After Goldie, our last dog, died years ago, it didn't look like my parents would ever get a replacement. So Jesse and I were thrilled when my mom mentioned that she wanted a dog for her Christmas present this year. We went to the St. Petersburg SPCA on Friday and came home with Sarge - a 30-pound, 9-month-old pit bull terrier. We had planned to name our future dog Mubu, but because Sarge was my grandpa's knick name, and because Sarge really looked like a Sarge, we kept it. Outside of a bit of chewing, he's really well behaved and everyone's having a great time getting to know him.

Notes from Iraq

I met almost all of my college friends at The State News. Therefore, it was only a matter of time before one of them ended up covering Iraq from Iraq. Check out Jamie's blog about an experience that I'm sure is going to be exhilarating, scary, and eye-opening all at the same time.

Wicked!

As a kid, I saw Phantom of the Opera no less than seven times with my family, in addition to Les Miserables, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, RENT, Showboat, Ragtime, Miss Saigon, and many others I can't remember. So you'd think I would have seen lots of shows on Broadway in the year and a half I've lived out here. Nope. Until last Wednesday, I hadn't made it to any. For my Christmas gift, Abbey bought us dinner and tickets to Wicked, which was so, so good. She saw it once before, but I'm not surprised that she wanted an encore. The music, the set, and the story (providing a new perspective on one of my childhood favorites) were all amazing. Thanks, Abz!

Thanksgiving

Even though I didn't get to see my parents or brother for Thanksgiving, it was great to see the rest of my family and friends in Michigan. It was strange, however, to be "home" without an actual home. Abbey's mom drove me past our old house, and even though it's only been in a new set of hands for a less than six months, it looks different. Somehow colder and empty, with an unfamiliar dog in the back yard. I don't think I'll ever get used to that. Anyway, I made myself home at three different places during the long weekend: Aunt Arlene's house for Thanksgiving Day, Lindsay and Trep's apartment on Friday and Saturday and Abbey's parent's house on Sunday.

The big dinner itself was great, as expected. Auntie R made TONS of food, including calzones in addition to the normal turkey day fare. In addition to my aunt and uncle, I spent some time with almost all of my cousins and their kids, who are growing so incredibly fast. (I know, I sound like an old woman who should be pinching their cheeks and exclaiming how tall they've gotten. But really, the last time I saw a few of them, walking and talking wasn't an option).


The next two days were spent shopping, catching up with high school and college friends, watching Abbey's "little" sister catapult toward complete drunkenness for the first time, and eating some of my favorite Detroit foods (including dinner in Greektown and second, post-bar dinner at National Coney Island). Lindsay, Trep, and I made a trip to the Detroit Institute of Arts, which recently reopened its doors after an extensive renovation.

On Sunday, I ate an early dinner with Aunt Melo, Uncle Tom and Grandma and then watched DVR'd episodes of Grey's and The Office with Abbey's mom, who dropped me off at the airport for a very long day of travel and delays the next day. The one upside of my almost four-hour delay: I saw Dustin Diamond on the terminal tram in Atlanta. Although I'm kicking myself for being too shy to ask for a picture.

Next up, Christmas in Florida.

The ring's NYC premiere

Sarah, Fink, Mike and I met Abbey and Adam in the city on Saturday to watch the last football game of the year and celebrate their less-than-day-old engagement. After watching MSU beat Penn State (yay!), we walked over to Yogi's for cheap beer and not-so-cheap shots. Some photos:

The ring!

Go State! Believe it or not, Abbey was a little bit quieter than usual, still shocked from the night before.

Posing with the Yogi's bear.

The happy couple waiting outside of Blondies.

She's engaged!!

Abbey and I don't keep much, if anything, from each other. We usually talk AT LEAST once a day, in addition to daily gchat and email. At any point in the day, I have an idea of what she's doing (whether it's working at her desk, reading in bed, or going to the bathroom...true story) and vice versa. So keeping something this huge from her - the fact that after almost five years with Adam, he really was going to pop the question - was so, so difficult.

Adam started plotting a few months ago, asking me for some advice on the ring and the proposal itself, which, from what I hear, turned out to be perfect. To ensure that Abbey wouldn't book a babysitting gig for the special night, I asked her a while ago to come out to Long Island for a friend's party. Then, last Tuesday, Adam told her that his boss had reservations at the Rainbow Room Grill for Friday night that he couldn't keep, and wanted them to take his place. Abbey cancelled our "fake" plans for the weekend, but not without mentioning her suspicion about the real intention of the fancy dinner. Adam and I panicked a bit, thinking that she'd figured the whole thing out, but through a variety of tactics, she was back to doubting that she'd have a ring to show off at Thanksgiving. So on top of the Rockefeller Center, with a view of the Empire State Building and the city below, Abbey was shocked when a desert with the chocolate-drizzled words "Abbey, will you marry me?" was placed on her table. Of course, she said "yes."

I'm so happy for them that I don't really know what to say. My best friend, and really, the sister I never had, is getting married - getting married to a wonderful guy. I've always loved Adam. Kind, smart, fun, and so very entertaining, I know he's going to make her happy for the rest of her life. I think I'm almost as, if not equally, excited for this wedding as they are.



Congrats you two!

Random happenings

Our volleyball team hasn't won a single game. I believe we're something like 0-18 now. It's getting a little frustrating. OK, a lot frustrating. I'm not asking for much: just one win. Sure, there are some perks to being losers. For one, we never have to put the net away. The rulebook reserves that task for the winning team. And there are no expectations. We never have to worry about being too cocky and losing to the underdogs. The season goes through February, so the way I see it, we're bound to win at least once, if only by sheer chance.

I only have about a month left of classes. This is kind of scary as I still have two papers and two tests to complete, neither of which I've started or studied for.

A couple weeks ago, my American democracy professor told a female student in my class "You don't really think that women have the same mental capacity as men, do you?" As you can imagine, about half of the class went crazy. Um, apparently the decline of ex-Harvard President Lawrence Summers has escaped his mind?

We want to start podcasting at the lab and I've been given the responsibility of researching and editing the pieces. I have no idea what I'm doing yet, but I'm kind of excited about it.

I can't believe Thanksgiving is almost here. And I can't wait to see everyone in Michigan.

ILMBFFAMS

I spent the weekend with Abbey while she housesat for a family in north Jersey. In 8th-grade slumber party style, we watched lots of classy movies (Transformers, John Tucker Must Die, Elf, and Closer), ordered Chinese food, and played Guitar Hero III (actually, she played and I watched, because I'm pretty much a failure at that game). In non-8th-grade style, because we were good kids back then, we ate at a Mexican and Irish cocina and pub called Jose O'Reilly's and washed down our dinner with no less than five glasses of sangria and two beers. JOR, as we now call it, is one of the only places I can think of where you can order shepard's pie AND quesadillas. It's also about a block away from the house Abbey was watching. Therefore, we didn't put up much of a fight when the waitress persuaded us to order a pitcher of sangria, or when the owner bought us another glass each and ushered us to the bar. It was about at this point that John Tucker Must Die began to sound like a good movie to watch.

We also bought matching PJs at the mall, which we had to wear at the same time so Justin could take our picture in the Palisades scenic overlook. Yeah, we're dorks like that.

Happy Halloween!

In what is becoming an annual tradition (or at least a pick-up from where my parents left off) I had a pumpkin-carving/Halloween party at my apartment on Saturday. Just a few people showed up to the event last year, but attendance this year was considerably larger. Although, we've got to do a better job of actually carving our pumpkins. Mine and Abbey's remained untouched on my balcony, most likely because playing with sharp knives doesn't seem like such a good idea after a few drinks. This was probably a good move on our part. The night was great, though, and so were the costumes. Here are some pictures:

The Last Domino...

aka John Orr, aka, Amy's new boyfriend, has been staying with me this week. John is on a two-week tour as a one-man band and is here for three NY shows. The strange part is that I've never met him before this trip, although through phone calls and conversations with Amy, I was pretty sure he was a good guy. And I was right. Abbey, Mason and I went to his Manhattan show on Wednesday night and were really impressed.

He leaves Sunday morning for North Carolina, followed by Tennessee and then back home to Indy. Getting to know him without Amy around seemed a bit unorthodox at first, but it's been kind of nice as well.

Lucky October 16

I feel old. Stephen – my longtime neighbor, little brother of one of my best friends, Lindsay, and pretty much my honorary second brother while growing up – is engaged. I always get these shocks of reality as my brother’s friends pass certain landmarks. These “little” kids driving, graduating from high school, showing up in the same bars as me, getting their degrees, and now, marriage? Even though they haven’t been “little” in years, it’s still strange to think of them as actual adults. Maybe it’s because I still struggle with thinking of myself as an adult. Or maybe it’s because I feel like they’re catching up to my generation. Or is it just that we’re slowing down?

Anyway, back to Stephen, who proposed to his girlfriend Janelle on Tuesday, which, coincidentally, is the same day Lindsay got engaged two years ago. It’s the birthday of Lindsay’s husband, Chris (aka Trep). I’m told that the ring is also from Lindsay’s jeweler. Now, if the wedding date is set for December 22, I’ll have to question this coincidence thing. But at least I know that whether they’re catching up or trailing close behind, they’re following some good steps. Congrats, Stephen!

Best. Weekend. Ever.

And if it wasn't the absolute best, it was pretty close. Abbey, Amy and I took Friday off of work and all flew into Tampa from our new homes on Thursday night for a weekend at my parent's house in Gulfport. Our itinerary was pretty complex: beaching, eating, shopping, and drinking, and we accomplished it all. Seriously, though, it was one of the most equally relaxing and exciting weekends I've ever had. We never rushed anywhere or stressed about anything. My mom made us some great food. My brother took two days off to drive us around. And I got to hang out with the people who are probably the five most important ones in my life. Some highlights:

The beaches: We went to Sunset Beach and St. Pete Beach, both within 15-20 minutes of my parent's house. The weather was gorgeous all weekend and we all were a little red by the end of the trip. The only downside to our beach-going was a HUGE school of fish that had to be crossed before entering deeper waters. We all did it, but not without some screaming. And my fear of the ocean wouldn't let me stay out too long before thinking something was circling around my feet.

NEPB at OG: If you're not hip to the language of Abbey, this stands for the never-ending pasta bowl at Olive Garden, one of our favorite restaurants, or rather challenges, in the fall. Amy told Abbey earlier in the day that she could eat more bowls than her. This, of course, meant war. So the two trash talked for the rest of the day and throughout dinner as they struggled to stuff just one more fork of pasta into their mouths. Their arguing left room for a silent challenger to take the lead. That's right, my mom beat them both, finishing two whole bowls and making us all question where on her little body she put it all.

POM: Or Puddle of Mudd. As we left a bar in St. Pete on Saturday night, we walked by two tour buses. Abbey and I continued to walk by, but somehow, Amy struck up a conversation with a girl poking her head outside the bus window. Before we knew it, Amy was on the bus peeing. Then I was on the bus peeing. We chatted a bit with the band's bassist and who I assume were a bunch of roadies. Amy told him the lead singer was a Nirvana wannabe and we were back on our way. We didn't really realize how cool of a situation we were in until the next morning, even though I'm hardly a fan.

Swimming while drunk: Don't do it. At least don't jump into the deep end when you can't even walk straight. Abbey and Amy learned this the hard way.

I think this will have to become an annual tradition.

Volley of the Dolls

People assume that because I’m tall, I’m good at volleyball. Not true. But I joined a lab team anyway along with a couple friends. Called the Volley of the Dolls, we’re an all-girl team in the lowest of three leagues, which means no overhand serves and no hard spikes, both fine by me. I could probably count the number of times I’ve played volleyball in my life on two hands, the most recent games in a similar league at Fermilab. So I was a little hesitant to join this year. We lost all three games in our first match last night, but it wasn’t as bad as I was expected. And I wasn’t as bad as I expected. Maybe by the end of the season I’ll be halfway decent.

On a side note, Abbey, Amy and I are flying to Florida tonight for the weekend. For those of you who don’t know, we were all roommates senior year. Our apartment number was 11F. So is it a coincidence that 11F is also Amy’s seat on the plane? I think this weekend was meant to be.

Abbey's birthday week

My BFF, Abbey, turned 24 yesterday, but our celebration actually began on Sunday. Abbey, her mom, Adam, and his parents met in NJ for the weekend and they all drove out to Long Island for some wine tasting. I don't think I've talked in much detail about the wineries out here. More than 30 vineyards and wineries dot the forks of the island. Some people say the wine quality isn't the best, and I agree that some are pretty terrible, but there are quite a few that I really like. Part of the fun is being able to judge one from the other. And when it's nice outside, it's refreshing to take a drive out east, past the land of strip malls and into farm country. Unfortunately, our drive on Sunday wasn't so fun. Being in the thick of Halloween season, everyone and their mom decided to venture out to the north fork for fall festivals, pumpkin picking, corn mazes, apple picking and shopping at the hundreds of farm stands. This turned the usually quick 45-minute drive into a much longer excursion. Our moods were quickly restored, though, once we ate some lunch and started the first of numerous tastings. We stopped first at Martha Clara (which in my opinion, doesn't produce the best wine, but has fun entertainment like hairy cows and llama). We spent the rest of the day at Roanoke, which is one of my favorites. I'm a wine club member there, meaning I get free tastings and discounts in exchange for buying three pre-selected bottles each quarter. The people there are incredibly friendly and can tell you anything you want to know, and more, about the wine they make. And it doesn't have the commercial feeling that many other wineries do. Abbey and I drank some of her favorite Roanoke wine, a rose, and Adam's parents must have enjoyed some of the reds because they left with a box full of bottles.

Yesterday, for Abbey's actual double dozen celebration, I met her, Adam, Sarah, Matt, Mason, Keith, and Walt at Carmine's in the city for a HUGE dinner. After putting back platters of penne vodka, salad, meatballs, and chicken (I mostly worked on the pasta), we ordered the "Titanic," a monstrosity of chocolate cake, ice cream, strawberries, bananas, whipped cream and nuts. Sooo good.

But the party's still not over. Tomorrow night, I'll meet Abbey and Amy in Florida to visit my parents and celebrate a little (or a lot) more.

ATM woes

So the ATM machine in the lab’s cafeteria is one of the oldest I’ve seen. Whereas practically all other machines have a reader that you slide your card through, this one actually takes the card from you. I'm used to the newer models, where once you have your money and receipt, you’re done. The Brookhaven relic, however, doesn’t return your card until after you’ve taken your money and answered one more question: “Would you like to make another transaction?” Lots of people just grab their money and walk away, forgetting about their card, and leaving the next customer the ability to drain their checking account. I rescued one of these people's cards today, returning it to one of the cafeteria workers. But in doing so, I also forgot my own in the machine. Now I have to wait until tomorrow to see if it shows up at the branch while I worry that someone is spending my slim, but much-needed life savings.

The Lifers

Amy and I would have been in stitches had we still worked at The State News when this story was published. At the end of the article, those "eight grown men who never managed to shake the Panchero’s-at-3-a.m. mentality,'" we know them. Actually, we more than know them. As the youngest of the bunch, and therefore the last to graduate, Abbey, Amy, Emily and I woke almost every fall weekend to find them sprawled every which way across our living room. We witnessed rumbles and fights. Late-night Pokey stick feasts and a number of East Lansing signage being pulled from the ground. Yes, the Holden Lifers are some of the best tailgaters I know, and I miss them.

Meet me at Blondies

Blondies has become the place for college reunions. Last week was Nate and Andy. And this week, Kris was in NYC for the weekend and stopped to cheer for the Spartans between stops at Prada and Armani. It's been great to catch up with everyone lately. And despite MSU's first loss of the season, we still had a great time. Abbey and I began early with lunch at, where else, Burritoville, followed by tailgating in Central Park.

Later, we ate dinner with Justin and his friends, Amir and Gil, at a Spanish restaurant, where we drank sangria that we definitely didn't need. We continued at a couple bars afterward, and following brunch in midtown, we finally headed back to Jersey more than 24 hours after we started and curled up in Abbey's bed for some much-needed sleep.

Give me novocaine

My dentist is kind of a jokester: humming the “Jaws” theme song as he enters the room and telling stories with the hygienists. But he’s not joking when he says he’s going to fill my cavities without using novocaine. Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt…much. Maybe because most of my cavities are shallow and small, stuck in little pits that caused my childhood dental experience to be pretty traumatic. But I’ve always been a fan of major pain medication. Gas me up, numb my mouth so much that I can’t properly drink from a straw for hours afterward. I don’t want to feel a thing. So last spring, immediately after Dr. Kahn announced that he’d fill my little cavity sans medication, I think my anxiety was more painful than the actual drilling. The same was true today when he filled two holes. There were moments when I thought it was going to hurt, when that cold, sharp pulse started its sprint to my brain. But then it retreated. And now that I’m sitting safely far away from the dental office, I’m telling myself how it really wasn’t that bad.

4-0

That's MSU's football record so far this season, which, despite playing teams we were expected to beat, is still pretty impressive. A winning season has been rare the past few years, so maybe we're on the up-and-up? I watched Saturday's game against Notre Dame in the city at Blondie's, where the NY alumni club hosts watch parties for every game. I met up with Abbey, Adam, Sarah and Matt, with intentions to tailgate beforehand in Central Park. The weather forecasts looked great all week -- sunny, warm, and just a 2 percent chance of rain. Well, the clouds with that 2 percent must have centered right over us. As soon as we walked off the subway, the skies opened up, and we ran to the nearest corner store for an arsenal of umbrellas and ponchos. Getting soaked in spite of our rain gear, we decided to go to Blondie's early. The good side: as the first Spartans there, we got great seats (the place gets packed right around game time). The bad: This gave us a little too much time to drink beer, which left a pretty hefty tab at the end of the night. My friend Nate, who I haven't seen in at least two years, joined us later on. And the Spartans won, 31-14.

School days

I'm in my third week of school now, but thanks to national and religious holidays, I've only had a few classes. I'm taking two classes this semester: One focuses on the critics and defenders of American democracy and the other is based on comparing U.S. policies with other industrialized countries. Both seem fairly interesting, even after working all day.

Stony Brook is a pretty school. It's smaller than I'm used to (about 22,000 students compared to MSU's 45,000), but a lot of people at my orientation were overwhelmed with its size. Being a fairly new university, the campus has a modern look to it, resembling something like Western Michigan University or Grand Valley. But for some reason, despite receiving some really high marks in national ratings lately, people don't seem overly excited to be there. As a girl in one of my classes put it: "It's cool to hate Stony Brook." I'm not sure why. Maybe because it's a commuter school. Maybe because the sports teams aren't very popular. Or maybe because no one really knows what a Seawolf (the mascot) is. I like it, though I'll always be an MSU girl at heart. My first few weeks have been nothing like my first days at Michigan State, where the fight song and school spirit were basically implanted in your brain. Although, I suppose I'm in a different playing field than the freshmen I drive past on my way to class. This is grad school. Part time. At night. There isn't much time for learning to love a new university.

Hello again

It seems like every couple of months I emit a signal to people from the past, the once-, almost-, and never-weres. It must be some kind of subliminal message that says "Remember Kendra? You should text/email/myspace message her." Maybe I pop up in a dream here or there. Or maybe it's just pheromones. Whatever it is, it usually happens in two-day segments. Today is day two, and it's pretty weird.

Umm, I'm bleeding?

Since last December, I've donated blood every time the drive people come to the lab. Today was my third time. I usually get a little woozy when they pull out the needle, but today was bad. Like spots-over-the-eyes-and-the-room-is-humming bad. My nurse quickly noticed, and in one swift movement, he reclined my chair, elevated my feet and called for a cold compress. The one thing he forgot: the hole in my arm, where blood began to seep from in big drops. Is it actually considered "bleeding" if you're already giving blood? I'm not sure, but it freaked me out, and after staring at the growing drops for a couple seconds, I managed to say "Ummm, I'm bleeding?" Yes, like a question. Not sure why, that's just the way it came out in my hazy state. The nurse got the point, though. He bandaged me up, although left some of the dried blood in the crook of my arm, which I quickly cleaned up after a full recovery thanks to mini doughnuts and apple juice. Yuck. How does this bug me when I can stare at the blood-filled tubes or donation bag without any sort of reaction?

Carl and Marc

Chuck E. Cheese was a childhood favorite of mine. And lucky for me and Jesse, my dad loved the place, too. My mom would sit on the sidelines, guarding our pizza as the three of us ran around with our pockets full of tokens, playing the games we thought might give out the most Chuck E. tickets. To a kid, those tickets were like gold. And because it probably took an average kid about $20 to accumulate 100 of them (for what might get you a small carnival-style stuffed animal), they were pretty valuable to parents, too. Candy, T-shirts, Chinese finger traps, we came home with all of that. But you know one thing that definitely wasn't a prize option? Grillz. That's right, grillz, those bling-blingin' jewels for your teeth. As we wandered around the NYC Dave & Busters ticket redemption area, however, there they were, shining from inside their glass display cases. From then on, there was no question. We needed them. Well, we needed them for Carl and Marc, our visitors for the weekend. The outcome: see below.

All of these...

For these...
Nelly would be proud. So yes, D&B was part of our NY/NJ visit with Carl and Marc. Not something I'd normally recommend in the middle of the NYC entertainment mecca, but it turned out to be one of the weekend highlights. Other adventures: a visit to Canal Street, where Abbey and I bought "Tiffany" necklaces, Carl and Marc bought matches designer shades and Adam just stood on the sidewalk, looking like an undercover cop. Of course, we ate at Burritoville...a hit, again. And later, we headed back to Hoboken for dinner and drinks. (Sidenote: Michigan lost again!)

On Sunday, after finally getting up, we drove back out east, eating at another of my favorites, Hummus World. Next, we made a quick, but efficient, visit to the wineries. Efficient, because we still managed to do numerous tastings and "sip" two bottles of wine.

After a quick stop at Stony Brook and breakfast, I dropped the boys back at LaGuardia on Monday. I expect to see some creative Halloween costumes that incorporate their new metal gear.

Boston

I’ve marked two more states off my places-to-visit map: Connecticut and Massachusetts. The first (CT) doesn’t really count because, exempting McDonald’s, we didn’t stop there on our Labor Day trip to Boston. But just like I count Kentucky, Georgia, and other drive-though states passed on numerous family trips to Florida, Connecticut will remain shaded in on my mental map. I took the Port Jeff ferry to Bridgeport after work on Friday, where Abbey and Adam picked me up on their way to Bean Town. The ferry ride was so much better than sitting in what I’m sure was bumper-to-bumper traffic on the GWB, and probably cheaper once you add together the tolls and gas money. Surprisingly, traffic for the rest of the trip up the coast wasn’t too bad. A few hours later, we knew we’d reached Boston when a fuel truck decorated with huge green shamrock images passed us on the street.

We stayed with Abbey’s cousin, Andrea, for the weekend in her apartment in Brookline – just a short T-ride away from the city. On Saturday, we took a tour of the Sam Adam’s R&D facility, which included free beer and some cool tidbits from our guide. We had dinner that night with Andrea’s friends in the north end – Boston’s Italian section of town that’s lined with restaurants, pastry shops, and lots of hungry people. The highlight of the day, however, happened in Michigan. U-M lost 34-32 to Appalachian State in what is being called “the biggest upset in college football history.” Adam was battling a cold for most of the weekend, but watching the continuous replays of the Wolverines’ failure (and knowing that MSU won its first game) was enough to help him rally for the night. Unfortunately, he was shot for the rest of the weekend. You know Adam’s sick when he forgoes the bar for the couch.

On Sunday, we drove north to a beach in Gloucester, which is exactly how I’d pictured New England: quaint (and not so quaint) houses sitting on rocky jutts in the ocean. I fried my back and legs. And although my skin has finally stopped hurting, it’s beginning to peel in ugly shreds.

On Monday, we ate lunch at an outdoor café on Newbury Street, followed by desert at one of Abbey’s favorites, JP Licks. Now I have the itch to explore more of the east coast.