weekend

How is it that weekends go by so fast?  I swear yesterday was just Friday and now it's already Monday.  Damn.  We drove up to Alexandria for a wedding this weekend [7 hours from here].  Despite all the driving, and the soreness that I have today, it was nice to see my whole family.  The brothers brought their girls.  We ate a lot of junk.  And we all stayed in an awesomely huge townhouse at the hotel that could accomodate all of us and had a full kitchen.  Super convenient for those of us needing gluten free food, which happens to be three of us now since Erick's girlfriend Jess thinks she has celiac disease.  She'd get the test done, but the health center at her school doesn't do it and she hasn't had time to go to a regular doctor.  Side note, she's 99% sure she has celiac disease since her twin sister also has it.

I took zero pictures of us at the wedding, which makes me mad at myself!  It was lovely seeing my favorite youth pastor from when I was in junior high and high school along with other church friends.  We're both glad to be back home, and Lady is glad to be back from the vet where we boarded her.

We stayed at my parent's house on Friday night and I got to snuggle this guy.  He's the most handsome cat I've ever met. 

I loved the centerpieces at the wedding.

I'm now 22 weeks pregnant.  18 weeks left!  I'm pretty uncomfortable and I'm sure it'll only get worse.  I can't wait to meet this little guy, or big guy by the looks of my belly...

Ze bump.  

My attempt to camouflage the bump.  Success?  Maybe.

family pictures

These were taken a few weeks ago when we went to visit Justin's family for the weekend.  I think his mom is hellbent on documenting my pregnancy through photographs.  That's fine with me.  It's fun to have these pictures.

I was 17 weeks here and I feel like you can barely see a bump at all.

Whaddya wanna bet this baby is going to be blonde with squinty eyes?

home

Generally speaking, people refer to the places in which they live as their homes. I call my home in Dubuque "home", but I also call my parent's house and Justin's parents house "home." 

In my younger, more dramatic years[....] when distraught I'd often cry I want to go home. And that was always to this place. The A-frame log cabin on Lake Huron. Still when I dream of home, it's here majority of the time. Is that how one qualifies home? The place that you visit the most in your subconscious? 

When will it stop being my home? Where I can relax in peace. I could sit at the bottom of the steps for hours and study the logs that build these walls or watch the waves as they slowly lap against the sand. I look around its sad, gutted walls and I still see the old pictures of us when we were younger. The ghost of my parent's wedding picture hangs in the hallway until I turn to examine it. I can hear the end of the Tiger's game as I drift to sleep, until I realize it is silent downstairs. 

Even if this place won't be here for me forever, I can visit it in my mind whenever I want. Is that the same, though?

I love this picture. It looks like it was taken 30 years ago. 

The view from "my spot" at the table. 

The view of the lake from the dining room. 

Wallpaper on the ceiling people. It's a thing. 

Best mirror for plucking eyebrows or doing makeovers. Ignore my awkward face. Clearly I'm blowing a bubble with my gum. Also, Lady insisted on being a part of this. 

The view from the bottom of the stairs. Already so different from what it used to be. 

Perilous stairs. 

Map of the bay. 

Beach.

We're at the beach for the holiday loooong weekend and I'm so happy about it. This place has been a true constant in my life, although since we cleaned it out last month for the renters it's strangely impersonal and not quite right. I know there's no old cedar chests to go spelunking through for dancing outfits circa the 1940's and no moth-ball-smelling closets to explore for other various fashionable pieces from days of yore. Now it's gutted to its bare house and furniture bones. Its character largely stripped and hauled away to thrift stores, the dump, and my mother's basement. 

I still love it, but it's not the same. My arms feel a little wibbly wobbly about that. I have a hard time with change. Thank goodness there are some things about this place that will never change. Such as the way the house greets visitors with its distinct pleasantly musty smell. Or the friendly, but slightly alarming floral wallpaper in the bathroom. The sound of the waves rolling up on to the sand. And most eerily, the creaks from upstairs. There are many stories from everyone that visits about the presence of ghosts in this house. I know they're true. I'd come back to visit this place too. It's kind of nice being back at Gram and Grandpa's house with them together again. Until I think about it, and then I go back to feeling wibbly wobbly. 

PS, we aren't vegans anymore. Hooray!

blog on a dog

It's a thing I'm trying.  It's a little tricky because my computer is subtly rising and falling with Lady's every breath, but it's our way of hanging out and being together.  Or something.  She loves it because she thinks she's getting attention.  She lives and breathes for attention.

Today started out on a sour note, I killed a bird.  Let me clarify, Jeepy Jenkins killed a bird.  He flew into the back window as I came to a stop on my drive to work.  I watched him tumble to the ground through my rearview mirror and was distraught.  Considered crying.  Thought about calling someone but realized it was too early.  Then thought to myself, "ugh what a perfectly horrible way to start the week."

Luckily it didn't stay horrible.  It stayed moderately good throughout the rest of the day.  The weather was lovely.  We grilled out for supper.  Had left over BLT pasta salad [which was divineeee].  Seriously, Monday, thanks for taking it easy on me.

And here's a recap from the weekend.  This suburban girl learned about prom in a small town.  I'm learning all sorts about small town life being married to a boy from a tiny town.  Turns out that prom is a big deal to everyone who knows anything about anyone going to prom.  Half the town [if not more] showed up for Grand March to watch all of the couples parade around in their promery finest through the gymnasium that was transformed into a swampy wonderland.  I realize that swampy may not sound pretty, but it was so sweet and romantic.  Perfect.  And now the photographic splendor that is prom in Small Town, Iowa.

The gymnasium.  This picture doesn't do it justice, but you can see how many people are there, this was taken probably 30 minutes before Grand March even started.  It got more crowded.

JB and his pretty date Madi.  

Cousin-In-Law Hunter and his date.  In this picture he's
got a big smile because he got a cheer from the
crowd for utilizing the whole runway.  Atta boy.

Cousin-In-Law Reecey-pie and his date.  I love her dress.
So much poof.

Reece is a good little cousin and does what he's told.  He's so cute.  But let's all draw our eyes to the top left-hand corner of the screen and admire that neon green mermaid number.  I announced to everyone that was listening that THIS was my dress in my imaginary world that I would chose to wear for my imaginary world prom.

I caught baby fever.  This little Sydney is one of two.  TWO!  Twins are the cutest!  I loved them both.

And finally because I think Justin doesn't feel he's getting enough sympathy.  Here is his poor swollen ankle.  It's all black and purple and swollen twice its size from his pick-up game of basketball on Thursday.  He still won't listen and go in for an X-Ray.  Who's the medical professional in this house again?....

Now I'm going to do something productive because I can.  Thank you.

A couple of things

1. It is Tuesday and we had tacos.  Unintentional Taco Tuesday win in the Gross household.  Can we just reminisce for a minute how much I love tacos?  See here & here [specifically number 8].

2. Apparently I really like numbering.  I don't know why I'm acting surprised.  I send Justin text messages with numbers too.

3. The guy on tv right now talking about some suicide case looks like the oldest Brady brother of whose name I have forgotten.  I know it's not Bobby...

4. Lady does this thing when she sees something out of the window, she thinks it's out every window.  Or something.  Today some kids dropped an informational packet about a food bank fundraiser off on our front porch and Lady went bonkers.  When a strange noise is heard in the dark of night she'll give off a little woof, but when a child comes innocently to the porch in broad daylight she decides to sound the alarms.  Weirdo.  Anyways, after the threat had been neutralized she ran to the back window to...watch them?  Obviously they weren't out there.  This dumbfounded her.  She is equally confused during the summer when the chipmunk [Stuart] teases  her outside our patio door.  He'll run down under the deck and Lady will run into the next room expecting him to be there.  Every time.  We've given up hope on her figuring that one out.

5. I have a secret stash of jellybeans that Justin can't find.

6. I've filled out my March Madness bracket and this year is the year.  Gonzaga will win!  I don't know where Gonzaga is even, but every year I choose them to win the championship because of their awesome sounding name.  I can smell it this year.  It's happening.  I also have Bucknell going pretty far.  Where the h is Bucknell?  Finally, why did I not go to a more excitingly named school?

And since it snowed another 4 inches yesterday [March 18th gosh darnit!] here is a picture from our honeymoon.  It was blessedly warm, and we ate so many hamburgers.  Disney World is the best.  But also... Hogwarts. Hogwarts.  Hoggy Warty Hogwarts. teach me something please!

Nerd.

fin.

Chicago: The sights [which is mostly of animals]

Last weekend we went to Chicago. 

 We saw some pretty cool stuff.  

Here are some favorites.  

[From my iphone]

Tall Buildings.

Shedd Aquarium:

I have a thing for animals that dress up in their nicest outfits.  Especially tuxedo animals.

This fish tried to eat me.  He was also much bigger than he looks here.

Lincoln Park Zoo:

Usually I hate chimpanzees.  They scare me.  But this little lady and I had a long conversation about life.  And the freckles on her chin.  I lied and told her she was lovely.  I don't even feel bad about it.

We revisited the cat house at the Lincoln Park Zoo several times to get to see the tiger.  Please note the pink flowery jacket in the window.  Someday that will be my kid's jacket reflected in the window.

Is this a leopard or a jaguar?  I've already forgotten.

I love giraffes.  And I'm jealous of their eyelashes.  Right?

Orchids are amazing.  I have one named Hyacinth.  The Conservatory in Lincoln Park had a whole room of orchids.  Beautiful!

 

This is a juxtaposition.  It was about 85 degrees in the room with azaleas   And I had a hat and scarf on.  But look at that riot of pink!

Transit:

And the traffic.  If ever I was to move to Chicago, I wouldn't own a vehicle.  Too much of a time suck.

Chicago: The Food

Basically what I love most about traveling is also what I get the most anxiety about.  Well, that and the scary thought that I might have to throw up somewhere weird.

Anyways, the thing that I'm talking about is the food.  Being originally from the Twin Cities area, I had a lot of gluten free restaurant options.  I love all those options and visit them when I go home, but it's so fun and exciting going to big cities that have new and old options.  And now let's begin our culinary journey.

Let it be known that I don't have pictures of everything because I temporarily lost my brain and forgot that I always take pictures of what I eat.  Whoops.

Friday:

We arrived.  On the car journey over, we ate sour cream and chive nut thin chips.  Which were medium.

We meant to eat at Naked Pizza that offers pizza on gluten free crust.  But we parked a half mile away from the restaurant.  Then the place was plum out of gf crusts.  So we ate at Qdoba next-door that has some safe options.  And was medium.  Maybe medium plus, but not pizza.

Saturday:

For breakfast we ate at the "bistro" at our hotel.  I ordered fresh fruit.  $4 was a lot for fruit I thought. Until I got basically a huge bowl full of raspberries, blueberries, strawberries and blackberries.  And then I was the happiest little Megan.  Raspberries make my rocking world go round.  Plus I ate a Kind bar for protein.  To which I will give a rating of 8,000 sprinkles.  Which is a good rating if you're asking.

For lunch we panicked out of our original lunch plan because I heard the place was only "eh" and it was pretty far away from where we were located so last minutes I said "There shall be Spicy Chicken at P.F. Chang's China Bistro." And so it came to pass.  And there was spicy chicken.  And there was fried rice.  And all was good in the world.  So, not original, but I loved it.  So 3.1 stars.

On our way to deciding that PF Chang's was a good choice, we passed the Weber Grill restaurant.  Justin said "Oh!  That's where I wanted to eat last time I was in Chicago, but I couldn't get in." Then while I was dawdling in the creepiest bathroom that there is ever to be in a PF Chang's, J googled to see if Weber Grill had gluten free options and, lo!  There was such a huge gluten free menu that we walked right back to that restaurant and made reservations.  And this is what I had:

 

That, my friends, is barbecue ribs, barbecue beef brisket, mashed potatoes and baked beans.  Heavens they were amazing.  I decided that I'm moving to there.  To the restaurant, not Chicago.  Justin loved his option too.  He got this PLUS pulled pork and he got mac and cheese instead of beans.  Also he ate all 4 pretzel rolls with the cheddar butter.  Not going to lie, I wanted cheddar butter.  This meal earned a rating of 16 hugs.

Sunday:

For breakfast we went to Tweet.  I recommend Tweet because the food is good and the atmosphere is squishy.  If you like sitting next to the vegans and being able to hear their entire conversation, you're in luck!  It didn't bother me, I think J would have appreciated more space.  There were also a lot of boobs on the walls.  Like, so many.  But they also had so many gluten free options that I had to ask the waiter to come back three times because I hadn't made a decision yet.  I chose pumpkin pancakes which were so good.  And Beautiful. 

And this iced coffee was the nectar of the gods.  Justin hated it and just got regular.  Which is boring.  Tweet gets a rating of 547 boobs, which is actually probably how many boobs there were, which is weird but didn't bother me.

On our way out of town through grayness and rain we stopped at a five guys burgers and fries.  Such a good decision.  So many fries.  I can die in a happy food coma now.  And really need to work out...

The worst picture I have ever taken.  Period.

Also, tonight I made pancakes and didn't have any syrup in the house.  Isn't that the dumbest?

In which I outsmarted daylight savings time. aka Chicago Part I: The Culture

Basically.  I decided that in order to NOT lose an hour while in Chicago for the weekend, I decided that it was lost on the car ride over.  How convenient?  That was a wasted hour anyways.  An hour of traffic sitting, poof, disappeared.  Or something.  I think I've mentioned before that I absolutely am flabbergasted by daylight savings time.  I should also mention how out of whack I am when changing time zones.  I lose all rationality and have no idea what time it is in real life.  And what real life, really?  Thus, making me capable of out smarting daylight savings time.  Or, what?

I digress.  We went to chicago.  My lovely Iphone [Henrietta the II] took many pictures.  My camera (still unnamed) took two.  These crazy times we live in.  I've decided to break Chicago into three parts.  The Culture.  The Food.  And the sights [which will be mostly animals].

Without further ado, I bring you.....

CHICAGO: THE CULTURE

As experienced by Megan and Henrietta the II

First, we scoped out the city.  Found ourselves an Urban Outfitters.  Laughed about the ridiculous men's coats in the sales room.  This one doesn't look as bad on the computer as it did in person.  The camouflage one though?

Horrible.

We became professional public transit utilizers...

After we got off 4 stops early and decided just to hoof it all the way down to the aquarium [pictures of that another day].  It was about 36 degrees and only drizzling a tiny bit, so, lovely.  I should also warn that this post has the dorkiest pictures of me ever taken.  Ever.

 I have this thing.  When I go places, especially places rich in artistic culture, I run into exquisite Picasso exhibits.  Ok so it's only happened at the Chicago Art Institute [not really the hugest surprise], and in Lucerne, Switzerland.  That makes it no less jump out of my boots exciting.

I saw this one.  My Picasso.  I gasped.  I hopped. I shouted a little bit in the dead quiet exhibit.  Then I had to choke back tears.  I have a bit of a Justin Bieber complex about great works of art.  Only it is so much less shallow.  Pablo Picasso touched this canvas, believed these lines, loved and hated every part of this.  And I did to.  Art is spiritual.  Especially when it's in your soul.  I have a huge spot in my soul for Picasso's blue period.  I have since I was 13. 

This is the worst picture of me ever taken, but I needed photographic proof that I was in the same room as a piece of Picasso's soul.  He was in the air.  Analyzing the room, the way we all dressed, the magnificent way my frizz was able to defy gravity, the variety of boobs.  Because oh that Picasso, he loved him some boobs.

This cat spoke to me.

And then we went and hung out with a couple of my other friends.  I didn't take fan pictures of everyone, so I pray that Degas, Pissarro, Titian, Cezanne, Gauguin, Manet, Renoir & the like don't feel left out.

Monet, you're lovely.  Don't listen to Justin, your lines aren't too soft.

  

Oh VanGoh, I know how misunderstood you feel as a redhead.  Just understand that I think you're wonderful.  Thank you for leaving a piece of yourself for us to enjoy.

I thoroughly enjoyed the miniatures display.  We peeked in every room imagining what life would have been like in that room, with those furnishings.  At least I imagined it.

Then we made an obligatory visit to the Bean.  You know, it's Chicago after all.  We took our picture, marveled at the metal, talked crap about a large group of sorority sisters doing a chant, and then laughed at the hipster-cum-figure skater that kept knocking fellow skating patrons over.  

Just look at all those people experiencing culture.  And metal.  Clearly I'm so over the Bean.  It's just neat but, whatever.

Now I'm sitting at home, and just as I was feeling sorry for myself for being sucked back into the Vacuum that is Dubuque, I can't.  Feel sorry that is.  Because this is how pretty my fireplace looks tonight.  On this cold, dreary March night.  As I look at the flames now they don't even flicker.  It is so strange.  I have never seen so still a flame.  It's like they're telling me to be happy where I am.  

For now.