Four Broadway Shows: How We Did It

I recently returned home from my third ever trip to New York City, and it was out-of-this-world amazing.

My roommate Emily and I got cheap flights and a (relatively) cheap hotel and spent four and a half days trekking all over the city and having a wonderful time. We ate a ton of good food and desserts, went boating in Central Park, visited Brooklyn, walked the High Line, enjoyed live music at the South Street Seaport (with excellent views of the Brooklyn Bridge!), sat in on a singalong in Bryant Park, saw Grand Central Terminal and the 9/11 Memorial and the New York Public Library, wandered the Upper West Side, shopped at a flea market, and basically just never stopped walking.

We also managed to see four Broadway shows.

Four.

For a musical fan like me, this was just... unbelievable. Beyond imagination. Because while New York City is amazing and I absolutely LOVE being a tourist there, the whole point of this trip was to see shows. And those shows? Were AMAZING. The other stuff was just an added bonus.

So here's the short version (believe it or not) of how it happened.

Emily and I purchased tickets for Newsies and Les Miserables prior to our arrival in NYC. These two shows were basically the reason for the entire trip. We absolutely HAD to see our pal Ramin Karimloo perform the role of Jean Val Jean in Les Mis, and had been looking forward to that for months and months. Then when we heard that Newsies would be closing at the end of August (I'm still not ready to talk about it), that put even MORE of a fire in us to get up there as soon as possible. So those tickets were more expensive on the front end, but there was no way we were going to risk a trip to NYC without Les Mis/Newsies tickets in hand. No. Way.

We arrived in the city on Thursday, and after several hours of sight seeing, we went to meet some friends outside of Kinky Boots, the 2013 Tony winner for best original musical. While we waited, I pressed my ear to the stage door and was in heaven listening to the crowd cheer on Tony-winner Billy Porter sing the final number, and I thought I was going to die. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to be inside that theater. Well, my wish was very nearly granted when the door suddenly swung open and I was so caught by surprise that I had to back up quickly to avoid a face full of door and lost my shoe in the process. People began pouring out of the theater and I had to fight my way forward to rescue my poor flip flop. And then I somehow ended up holding the door open for half of the theater but THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT.

Wait, what is the point? The point is that moment was when I knew I was going to do whatever it took to see a third Broadway show while we were there. I even sent up (what felt like) a silly and lame prayer... Lord PLEASE let me see another show! I just wanted it. So badly. And I knew it was probably ridiculous. Probably...

Friday night rolls around, and I want to pinch myself, because we are actually about to see Newsies. Nearly two years and THOUSANDS of times listening to the soundtrack later, I have returned. I was absolutely giddy sitting in my seat and thumbing through the program. Then the overture started and the curtain began to rise. I was so OVERJOYED and I just... I don't know, I really don't have the words to describe how excited/thrilled/ecstatic I was in that moment. I was practically glowing.

That right there. That was the best moment of the trip.

The show itself was even better than I'd remembered. So funny, such an amazing cast, the BEST dancing on Broadway (or anywhere, really), and I was on the verge of happy tears the entire time.

Put it this way: imagine that there's a movie you've loved for nearly your entire life. Then they go and make a musical of that movie. And the musical is even better than the movie. That's Newsies for me.

After the show, we fought our way to the stage door so that I could get autographs and photos with the cast. I have a very understanding roommate who stuck with me and took pictures of me and stood her ground in a sea of INSANE "fansies," despite the fact that the entire situation is basically her worst nightmare. What a pal!

So then we turn to leave, and guess who we see across the street coming out of Aladdin? Adam Jacobs (Aladdin himself! Emily gets the credit for spotting him.) and Tony-winner James Monroe Iglehart! Wow, what a moment!

The only way to describe how I felt after all that was "on a high." I don't know that life will ever approach the feeling of sheer ELATION of that Friday night in New York City.

When we got back to the hotel, we talked strategy for the next day. We had done a ton of research into the other shows currently playing on Broadway, trying to figure out our best bet for picking up a third show. Some shows do a lottery for cheaper tickets, some offer rush tickets the day of the show, some offer standing room only tickets... You really just have to figure out what is your priority and what you want to try for!

Armed with invaluable information from Playbill.com and Broadway Spotted, we decided to try for tickets to this year's Tony winner for best original musical, A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder.

The GGLAM box office opens at 10am, so we got in line at 8:30 with about 20 people in front of us.

please oh please oh please oh please

The wait was really not that bad-- we had coffee and sat on our Starbucks wrappers (super classy) to protect our shorts from the New York street, enjoyed powdered donuts offered to us by fellow line waiters, and only had to move twice for cars once we realized we were sitting in front of a driveway...

At the last minute we had to make a decision: do we try for matinee tickets or evening tickets? They were in two separate lines, and what if the line we got in SOLD OUT? Well, we took a chance, rolled the dice, and got in line for the matinee. And two $37 dollar tickets later, we were two VERY happy girls holding matinee tickets to a TONY AWARD-WINNING show! So happy that we just had to reward ourselves with gourmet cookies from Broadway bakery/hot spot Schmakary's.

Going into Gentleman's Guide, I was excited to see it in a kind of general way. I had seen them perform "I've Decided to Marry You" on the Tony's, and was... looking forward to it! With like... regular anticipation. Not eager anticipation or anything.

Then the show started, and Bryce Pinkham came out. And any illusions I was under that this was your average ordinary show went out the window. Bryce and his co-star Jefferson Mays (both nominated for Tonys for their roles) were absolutely FANTASTIC. Wonderful singers, incredibly gifted comedians, and very engaging performers all around. Bryce in particular could make us laugh with the simplest eyebrow arch or sly grin aimed at the audience. It is safe to say that he is our newest Broadway crush, and he can do no wrong.

But really, I can't say enough about how much WE LOVED THIS SHOW. It was funny, the music outstanding, and the casting obviously top-notch. If you are planning a trip to New York anytime soon, GO SEE THIS.

We hadn't intended to spend time at the stage door, but the actors started coming out very soon after we exited the theater, so we felt like we couldn't NOT see them. And that turned out to be absolutely the right decision! Despite being boisterous and over-the-top on stage, Jefferson and Bryce were both so soft-spoken, kind, and intentional with every single fan that waited for them at the stage door. They each made eye contact with everyone, asked questions, genuinely thanked each and every person... It was just amazing, and such a special time for both Emily and I. When we walked away we felt like we were floating. That was due in large part to the sheer brilliance of the show as a whole, but also because of how we were treated at the stage door by the actors. I think it is safe to say that we will both have a soft spot for both Jefferson Mays and Bryce Pinkham for years to come because of this wonderful interaction.

After GGLAM, we decided to make a quick stop at Schnipper's (where we saw one of the ORIGINAL stars of Newsies, Evan Kasprzak!) to split some fries. Now earlier that day we had discussed the fact that since we had tickets to a matinee, we would have our evening free... so why not try to see another show? Why not? So once again, we did some prep work, figured out which shows held a ticket lottery and when, and ranked which shows we wanted to see most.

Emily headed to Aladdin to enter the lottery there, and I went two blocks up to try for Matilda. We were both SO NERVOUS and hoping against hope that one of our names would be called. We texted back and forth while we waited, anxious to hear the results.

Emily: I can't handle the suspense. My stomach is in knots. 

Well, neither of us won. HOWEVER. The ticket guy at Matilda said that if anyone wanted to line up and try their chances for Standing Room Only tickets, then just wait over here. Well since I was standing right there, I slid into line, text messaged Emily, and that's how we ended up right at the front! We thought we would wait for maybe 20 or 30 minutes, go eat dinner, then come back in time for the show. But 30 minutes came and went, and we were still standing in the lobby waiting... for a chance to stand for three more hours.

I could tell Emily was fading fast, but I knew we couldn't give up these spots in line now that it felt like we were SO CLOSE to seeing a show that I KNEW would be absolutely amazing. We found out that the reason the wait was so long was that they wouldn't sell any SRO tickets until they'd sold out the entire house. Henceforth every time the door to the theater opened, I was always hopeful that it was someone with the urge to buy last-minute full-price tickets (as in like $150 each) to Matilda. No such luck.

Fast forward another hour. It's 10 minutes to curtain, people are finding their seats, and we're STILL IN LINE. Finally, something happens. The two people in front of us get called forward to the box office. "This is it!" we think. "Standing room here we come!" But instead of buying tickets and entering the theater, the pair returns to the line, saying they were offered obstructed view tickets, and that they just weren't interested. Before we could really process this information, they're waving Emily and I forward, and here we are standing at the box office!

Box Office Guy: I have two obstructed view tickets available.

Me: How "obstructed" are we talking? Like, behind a pole or something?

BOG: No, they're just on the far side so you have partial view of the stage.

Me: Umm... How much?

BOG: $42 each.
Me: We will take two.

I mean, are you kidding me??? $42? That's less than a third of the price for a normal ticket! And do you know where our seats were? The first row of the first balcony. Not the second balcony. The FIRST balcony. WHAT. Yes, our seats were all the way over on the left side, but we so did not mind. Plus there was the fact that WE GOT TO SIT DOWN. IN ACTUAL SEATS. I just couldn't believe our good fortune. Before I knew it the overture was starting and the kids were performing and here we go: I'm on a high again.

If you've heard anything about Matilda, you've heard that it's a brilliant, clever, hilarious, FUN show. It is absolutely all of those things. It certainly has its dark parts (the original book is by Roald Dahl, after all), but we just loved everything about it. Amazing dancing, insanely clever song lyrics, incredible staging, and the cast made FULL use of the theater, running up and down the aisles, singing in the box seats (SUPER close to us by the way), and a few other fun bits that I don't want to give away. I felt like I was grinning the whole time-- that is, when tears weren't filling my eyes from the sweet wistfulness of certain songs.

I had looked forward to seeing Matilda for ages, without really believing I'd get a chance to, and I just couldn't believe it was really happening. If you haven't checked out the soundtrack yet: get on it. It's spectacular.

Sunday afternoon rolls around and it's time for our fourth and final Broadway show, the big one: Les Miserables. I knew we had floor seats for this one, but I wasn't expecting the SEVENTH ROW. Thanks to one of Emily's connections, we'd managed to score some seriously legit seats! Being that close was just... a dream. It was so, so wonderful. And what can you say about Les Mis? Of course it was outstanding. Ramin Karimloo has unequivocally the best voice I've ever heard, so getting a chance to hear him perform live was just unreal.

I expected to love Ramin as Val Jean. I was not expecting to ALSO love Will Swenson as Javert, another powerhouse singer whose sheer authority and command of the stage, not to mention his OUTSTANDING voice ("M'sieur le Maire you'll wear a different chaaaain" -- chills on chills on chills), made him the BEST Javert I've ever seen.

The rest of the cast was also very talented, although we ended up seeing understudies for Enjolras, Fantine, AND Cosette. C'est la vie, I suppose! At least we got to see Ramin and Will. I really just can't overstate how good both of them were. Just wow.

And that's how it happened! I'm sorry I seem to have gotten carried away in my own effusiveness, but it really was that wonderful. I've obviously run out of positive adjectives, but what can I say?

It was perfect.

P.S. After Les Mis we went back to Schnipper's and saw TWO MORE NEWSIES! Life made.

For Sheldon and Davy

I'm not sure how many years it will take before I stop considering March 28th an anniversary of sorts. I didn't buy a card and we aren't going out to dinner, but I'm remembering it just the same.

The tree stump.

The book.

The ring.

THE question.

After just four months of dating, D asked me to marry him.

"A Severe Mercy" has been an important book in our story. I read about David before I actually met him. Talk about a first impression. When D mentioned this book on his eharmony profile, I knew there had to be something unique and special about this man.

That hunch was correct.

"A Severe Mercy, by Sheldon Vanauken, is a heart-rending love story described by its author as "the spiritual autobiography of a love rather than of the lovers." Vanauken chronicles the birth of a powerful love born out of the relationship he shares with his wife, Davy, and describes the growth of their relationship and the dreams that they share." -Jacque Holthusen

It was only fitting that the story of Sheldon and Davy be present at our engagement and that their words had a place in our ceremony. If you haven't read the book before, may I suggest you add it to the list this year? It's one of the most beautiful love stories I've ever read.

• "She knew without my saying that I was hers, that I was full of happiness that we were deeply together… wherever the road led. And I knew without her saying that she had, somehow, come to a new understanding that God in His ample love embraced our love with, it may be, a sort of tenderness, and we must tread the Way to Him hand in hand. We understood without words that we must hold the co-inherence of lovers and be Companions of the Co-inherence of the Incarnate Lord: she in me and I in her; Christ in us and we in Him.” - A Severe Mercy

Dear Sheldon and Davy...

Happy March 28th.

Pasta Love

(*Apologies for the pre-post that happened last night! Darn you blogger!)

I received an e-mail from E-Harmony about a month ago announcing a contest. [Yes, my husband and I met through E-Harmony.] Send in your "love story" for a chance to win a trip. I'm all about entering contests because "who knows?" ya know? So I started penning something in a word document only to realize that it was cliche and boring. If I wanted my letter to be chosen as one of the six finalists I was going to have to channel a creative writer and produce something worth reading.

I was getting ready to make one of our favorite dishes that day. As I pulled out the recipe I decided to just run with it. Here's the contest entry I ended up submitting the next day.

______

January 16, 2012

Dear David,

I’m making “Fall in Love” pasta again tonight. I love that the penne and spinach dish will forever be known by that title in our home. As I pull out the recipe (by now, clearly committed to memory) I can’t help but think of the night I first made it for you.

It was November of 2009 and our fourth date. I couldn’t believe you had so readily and easily agreed to making the 105 mile round trip for one meal. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. What if I was a horrible cook?And yet, you came.

I hadn’t expected to feel so strongly about you at so early in our relationship, and yet there I was, nervously excited as I pulled out the recipe my mom had written out for me years ago. It was just about a month since our match was made on E-Harmony. Who knew that signing up on a whim (and a promotional sale) on October 9^th would lead me to you just one day later? (By the way, have I thanked you lately for taking that first step and contacting me?) I loved seeing your name and picture pull up in my messaging list, and I anxiously awaited each and every step that took us closer to open contact.

You were the only match to receive my phone number.

You were the only match to take me on a date.

You were and are still the only man to hear the words, “I love you.”

Who knew that a pasta dish and some chocolate cake would lead to a kiss while we washed dishes? Who knew that a kiss would lead us to both realize that we were quickly and steadily falling in love? Who knew that God could use a website to connect two earnest and unique people and lead them into a love story so deep and so wide?

When we declared our wedding vows on October 17, 2010 we entered into a new journey that has been filled to the brim with blessing. I am yours, my dear, and you… you are mine.

Hurry home, husband. The pasta and your wife are waiting.

With love,

Ginger

------

Fast forward another week and I received an e-mail from E-harmony letting us know we had been selected as a finalist. Awesome, right? In the end we didn't win, (that went to a couple with the saddest and sweetest story - they totally deserved it) but we certainly had fun with the process.

I'm becoming more and more at ease with telling our story. I think there were hesitations in the beginning because of some sort of social stigma surrounding on-line dating. But currently one out of eight marriages find their relationship starts on-line.

So I say who cares what method God chose to use, I'm just thankful He did. So my on-line dating advice: don't knock it until you try it. And even if it doesn't leave you with the ending you were looking for... you might just end up with an amazing story about laminated poetry or a very hungry police officer.

____

RECIPE

Sausage and Spinach Penne Pasta (Fall in Love Pasta)

8-12 oz penne pasta 1/2 c chicken broth

2 T olive oil 1/2 c. dry white wine

3 cloves garlic, minced 3/4 c. oil-packed sun dried tomatoes (or 1/4 c sun-dried)

16 oz. sweet Italian sausage 1T fresh basil or 1 t dried

1 can diced tomatoes 2 t Tabasco sauce

salt, pepper, Parmesan to your liking...

Heat oil in large skillet over medium heat. Add garlic and saute til garlic is lightly browned. Add sausage and saute until cooked through (remove from casing and crumble). Add tomatoes (undrained), broth, wine, sun-dried tomatoes, basil and Tabasco sauce. Cook 5 minutes. Push everything to the sides and add spinach and saute until tender. (I usually just close the lid and let it steam for just a few minutes.)

Cook pasta while "sauce" is cooking. Remove from heat, add pasta and toss. Season with salt and pepper. Serve with Parmesan to sprinkle on top.

Great with salad, bread, and THIS RECIPE FOR CHOCOLATE CAKE!

So this one time...

I might have thrown my flip phone on the ground and snapped it in half the summer of 2009. Even though I couldn't see the screen or hear the other side of the conversation, I could still dial and make calls. I broke my phone around 9:00pm on a Saturday night. I was working at the church the next morning and planned to head straight to the Verizon store once I was off. It seemed like a great plan until...

Sometime around 6:15am on Sunday morning my alarm went off. I was tired and still half asleep when I tried to turn off the noise by hacking at my cell phone instead of my alarm clock. Apparently I hit the 2... and somehow made a call to speed dial #2 - my parents house.

Two minutes later the little bottom half of my phone started ringing. I was confused as to why someone would be calling me so early in the morning, so I answered. I had no way of telling who was on the other side or how much they could hear from my end of the conversation. I think it went a little something like this...

(ME SHOUTING)

Hi! This is Ginger but something happened to my phone and I can't hear you. I CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING YOU SAY. So if you are talking, I can't hear anything you are saying to me. I don't know who this is. I don't have a way to figure that out. I guess if you have my e-mail address you can try and send me a message. If not... uh, sorry! That's all. Uh... bye."

I hung up and made some coffee and started up my computer. That's when the messages started coming...

From: Mom
To: Ginger
Date: Sunday, June 28, 2009 at 6:27am
Subject: can you get this?

WE are at home. I'm worried about you. Is it your phone that is having the problem or is it you?

From: Ginger
To: Mom
Date: Sunday, June 28, 2009 at 6:33am
Subject: Re: can you get this?

I threw my phone last night and the screen broke from the keys. Therefore I cannot read messages or hear anything other than the phone ringing. Beautiful, right? I can try and call you back as soon as I get to work. You can write me back here in the meantime. I'm here for the next hour.

From: Mom
To: Ginger
Date: Sunday, June 28, 2009 at 6:42am
Subject: Re: can you get this?
Dare I ask why you threw your phone??? My guess is that you are very much due for a new one. Dad's last phone cost us $0. You may need to stop on your way home from church. This doesn't sound good. We're going to Bible class and will leave here at 9:30 our time - 7:30 yours, which is probably when you'll be leaving. We can communicate like this until then. SO sorry. -m.

From: Ginger
To: Mom
Date: Sunday, June 28, 2009 at 6:59am
Subject: Re: can you get this?

I threw my phone after someone made a sarcastic comment. Stupid on my part. I can hear it ring or hear that it receives a text, but cannot see the screen or hear the person talking. Did I accidentally call you this morning? I couldn't figure out why someone would be calling me that early... unless it was an emergency. That's not the case, right?

From: Mom
To: Ginger
Date: Sunday, June 28, 2009 at 7:14am
Subject: Re: can you get this?

Yes, our home phone rang and I picked it up and saw it was you but you had hung up...then, I called you back on my cell...strange conversation...was wondering if you had been afflicted with instant deafness but knew things would be okay.. after all, Marlee Matlin has done pretty good as a deaf actress but though it might be a problem if you couldn't hear your musical accompaniment in 'Camelot'...I am relieved since I purchased our air tickets yesterday

I am sorry you inherited that gene from me...many a tool including weed eaters have been tossed by your father.

I only wish I coulda been there. -Dad

From: Ginger
To: Mom
Date: Sunday, June 28, 2009 at 7:21am
Subject: Re: can you get this?

HAH. Whew. I will try and call after work.

- - - - -
I TRIED to call after work, but had some problems.
1. Even though I paid for my own phone it was actually part of a family plan under my mom’s name. The store required my mom’s social security number in order for me to get a new phone.
2. I called home but my mom uses caller ID and didn’t recognize the store number. I hung up instead of leaving a message.
3. I could only remember one other phone number and my grandmother did not answer.
I drove to another Verizon store across town because let’s face it, it seems like there are different policies for each store. Again I was denied but given the option that I could bring in a phone and have my account transferred to it. I wasn’t up for a free new phone for a few months and frankly, I couldn’t afford one at the moment. Luckily a friend had offered up her husband’s reject phone that morning at work. I still had the option to drive to their house and pick up a phone. But I decided to check in at home first.

I didn’t have a land line so I hopped back on-line and tried to catch my sister on G-chat. Success.

Here was the set up: I had her on google video chat and she had my mom on the phone. She was our go-between. Only there was one small problem: her mic didn’t seem to be working… thus the typing.

Good news: I borrowed a phone for 3 months until my contract was up and then finally got my “new every two.” I still have that same phone phone. THIS PHONE with the sliding keyboard. I’m up for a new one this month.

Yes, please.

Tooth in Hand

The Perfect Saturday

A run in the park followed by five hours at the pool with friends followed by dinner out followed by a movie followed by high-fiving a unicorn. Lather, rinse, repeat: this has been my last THREE Saturdays.

BAM!

The day is MINE, Trebek!

Pop Quiz

This weekend will involve:

a. Hanging with my mom
b. Hanging with my sister
c. Hanging with my brother
d. Hanging with my dad
e. Hanging with my by myself ("Don't wanna be all by myseeeelf! Anymooooore!" Cue Bridget Jones-esque air drumming and foot kicking.)
f. BOTH A AND B AND ALSO C BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE YES ALSO D

If you guessed f, then ding ding ding! You have aced a made up quiz on a blog. Congratulations, award yourself the appropriate number of points you feel you deserve. OH ALL RIGHT- AND A GOLD STAR TOO.

One more question, though:

IT GETS MUCH BETTER THAN THIS
a. True
b. FALSE

It does not, in fact, get much better than this.

My Great-Grandfather Was Ridiculously Awesome Story of the Day

One time Pappaw went to the doctor because his hand was infected. Do you want to know why? BECAUSE HE HAD PUNCHED A DUDE IN THE FACE AND THE OTHER GUY'S TOOTH WAS EMBEDDED IN PAPPAW'S HAND.

The End.

Summer Movie Round-Up (So far)
X-Men: First Class: C+
Super 8: A-

The Longest Story About Cereal You Will Read Today, Guaranteed

When I was in England for a semester during my sophomore year in college, I was not the most adventurous grocery shopper. My roommates bought flavored yogurts and mysterious-looking pasties without trepidation, but I was not nearly as trusting of what I was confronted with at the grocery store. I found myself unable to see past the unappetizing appearance of watery cheeses or the bizarrely-named "cloudy lemonade."

Such is how I ended up living almost entirely on the BEST cereal ever, Kellogg's Crunchy Nut. I ate that cereal morning, noon, and night without abandon. I loved it, and was perfectly happy to sustain myself on honey-flavored flakes of cereal for the duration.

So you can imagine how distraught I was upon my return to the states to discover that my beloved Crunchy Nut was unheard of in my home country. I tried everything that even closely resembled that cereal, including Honey Bunches of Oats, which absolutely does NOT hold up, and is not even REMOTELY the same thing.

"Surely you can find something similar," fellow traveler and roommate Julie would say. "I wouldn't think it'd be THAT hard. It's just honey-flavored Corn Flakes!"

"False," I petulantly replied, then added wistfully, "A Crunchy Nut substitute does not exist for me in this land."

This is the part of the movie where the screen would darken, and then a line of white writing would appear, reading "7 Years Later."

From Wikipedia: "Crunchy Nut (previously known as Crunchy Nut Corn Flakes) is a breakfast cereal made by Kellogg's. They were first introduced to the UK and Ireland around 1980. The cereal is Kellogg's second most popular cereal in the UK after Special K. In 2011, Crunchy Nut was introduced to the US Market."

Oh yes, my friends. You read that right. CRUNCHY NUT CEREAL IS NOW AVAILABLE IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, LAND OF THE FREE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE AND NOW ALSO DELICIOUS.

Upon hearing that my favorite cereal could now supposedly be found at my local grocery store, I indeed stormed the aisles of my local food provider in search of the perfect breakfast food. And there, among the Fruity Pebbles and the Kashi Granola... it wasn't. No bright yellow box! No Kellogg's-labelled package proclaiming "NEW!"

Despair.

But then. (You didn't think I'd leave you without a happy ending, did you??) My not-so-local grocery store to the rescue! It's true: up the road a piece, in a grocery store I do not often frequent, sat boxes of exactly what I was looking for. I picked up a box of Crunchy Nut amidst memories of my Oxfordian semester and headed to the checkout counter.

Of course, the biggest question one would have at this point: Would it taste the same? Had I built it up in my memory to be better than it is in reality? Would the American import be less tasty than its British counterpoint?

Scene: A bowl, a spoon, skim milk, and my honey-covered friends. (The cereal, I mean. Not actual friends covered in honey, as hilarious as that would be.) The verdict? Even BETTER than I had remembered! I went through that box of cereal in less than a week, even taking the last bit of it to work to eat for lunch on Friday.

The lesson here is, obviously, that DREAMS REALLY CAN COME TRUE. No matter how big it is, even if your dream involves breakfast cereal, it can happen.

Dream big, kids. Dream big.

One Year Ago

Holy March Madness, Batman... a lot can happen in a year!

One year ago I was getting ready to board a plane for Texas (and writing vegetable poetry). I was flying to speak at a conference. I had been dating David for almost five months and had come to the conclusion that this was the man for me. I had spent some subsequent time lamenting to my sister that this boy had better get his "ducks in a row" sooner than later.

As far as I knew, he had yet to speak to my father and ask for permission.

As far as I knew, a ring had yet to be purchased.

I fell right into his plan. My family (sister especially) deceived me. I was blissfully unaware. On March 28, 2010 he walked out in the middle of the woods in Texas and asked me to be his wife.

The story gets better.

We planned and prepped and plotted and apparently did it all with much alliteration. October 17, 2010 we became husband and wife for always.

Two days later we boarded a plane, found our seats and connected with the flight attendant. She pointed out another honeymooning couple. The bride in a bright green sweater and perfectly polished nails turned, caught my gaze and asked pointedly, "Aren't you just so depressed that it's over?"

I was taken off-guard. Since roughly 11:00am on March 28th I had been expectantly waiting for life with my husband. I loved the wedding ceremony and had a blast at our reception, but I had been waiting for THIS. I was thrilled to be flying with someone. I was overjoyed to make a run to Home Depot with someone.

I turned to the young woman, smiled and said, "But it's not over. It's just beginning!"

My husband is private and introverted, although boisterous and energetic with his patients, family, and close friends. I just wanted to take a moment and say that this story gets better with time. In David I have found a partner, champion, and co-laborer for life. I am beyond blessed.

The night before I met David I wrote this in my journal:

This feels like something new. I started communicating with D 22 days ago. The moment I read his first message, I was hooked. I told Mom this week that he reminded me of Dad. So smart, funny, focused, driven... and for some reason he feels like he lucked out with me. Lord, I give you our date tomorrow. I give you our time together and ask that you would make it apparent if we are to venture forward together. Grant wisdom, guide conversation, guard hearts, and help me to just be myself. Thank you, Lord, for whatever you are doing.

I love this man more and more every minute... and I love that this is just the beginning.

Please Be Our Friend.

After Movie Club this afternoon (today's movie: Contact), we kept the TV on, and after watching some ungodly amount of golf (?), we transitioned to our lovely local news station and were sucked in by the interesting circus that is small-town local news. Particularly the weekend edition.

They threw the story to a reporter who was standing by at the local TGI Fridays (approximately a mile away from where we were sitting watching the news), who was reporting the groundbreaking story of the expectation of a very large crowd to watch the Cowboys game in the bar area.

After watching this young reporter, with his loose tie, electrical taped-microphone, and devil-may-care attitude, we came to the very logical conclusion that he is probably a lot of fun to hang out with in real life. And I then took the very logical next step of looking him up on Facebook to get some further info on this local newsman. Well guess what- he is totally our age, and has awesome taste in movies (Inception! Moon! North by Northwest!), television (Whose Line! Lost! LATE NIGHT WITH JIMMY FALLON!) and general interests (Film! Television! Theatre! Deloreans!). Yes- this guy was definitely someone we want to hang out with.

Also: he looks just like hilarious Alex from Alex Reads Twilight.

We got another sign that we should totally be friends with this guy when we arrived for dinner at IHOP (Yes- it IS open during daylight hours! I was shocked too. Aren’t you only allowed to go there when everything else is closed? (Apparently not.)) and saw the news van driving away from TGI Fridays back to the studio! This is totally meant to be.

After that we talked about him like it was a foregone conclusion that we’d all soon be fast friends. “I bet Casey would think that’s funny.” “Casey would probably love to come to Galveston with us.” “Casey would never call me sweetheart.”

I don’t know how often reporters Google themselves (probably pretty often, right?), but Casey Claiborne, if you’re reading this, we totally want to hang out with you.

And to the young waiter who accompanied handing me my drink with a “Here you go, sweetheart”: No.

Band

One time when I was a junior in high school, band class was a little bit extra boring and slow. So my awesome Mormon friend Johnny decided to put his extraordinary powers of hilarity to good use and entertain the band.

He organized it with the entire trumpet section ahead of time, and then just waited for Mr. Reynolds to get mad at one of them (a regular occurrence anyway). Then Johnny just said "I'm sorry Mr. Reynolds" and another trumpet guy sang "oooo!" in a falsetto voice and all of the trumpet guys sang "I am for reeeeeeal!" (Do you remember that song? "I'm sorry Miss Jackson?" Well it was very popular when I was in high school.)

But Mr. Reynolds was not in a jolly mood that day, so he just threw his baton on the ground and stomped away from the podium for a little bit. I tried not to double over laughing (that was my usual reaction around Mormon Johnny) because COME ON, Mr. Reynolds. You have to admit that was funny. And it took planning, so.

36 Hours Till Daybreak* (original spelling)

Sometimes 'til just needs a little umph. I provide that.

I'm continuing the little trip down memory lane with part 2 of my short story from 6th... ok, maybe 7th or even 8th grade. You can find part 1 right here.

* * * *

"36 Hours till DAYBREAK"

Part 2

DFW Airport, 4:42pm

"I look like a mess," thought Blair. She was in a crowded restroom trying to bring life back to her face. She had not taken well to her flight, and now the thought of her flight to New York put more sag into her shoulders. She grabbed her earrings out of her purse and pushed them through her ears. She quickly dabbed powder to her nose and put on some lipstick.

"At least now I look human," she mumbled under her breath. As her shoes clicked along the floor, she realized that she needed to confirm dinner with her source. She looked for her cell phone, but it was roaming.

"Great!" She glanced over at a pay phone, forcing a quarter into it she dialed the number. After three rings a male voice answered.

"Hello."

"Yes, this is Blair Stevens. May I please speak with David Bradley?"

For a while there was no sound.

"Mam... I'm sorry but Mr. Bradley is unable to speak with you at the moment."

"Well will you confirm with him our dinner plans for this evening?"

"One sec."

A muffled sound came through the receiver.

"Ms. Stevens?" A new voice rang out.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry to tell you this... but Mr. Bradley was killed in his car this morning."

No sound.

"Mam?"

"Um. Yes. I'm here. This is just shocking news... I... um..."

"Yes?"

"Well, I just talked to him this morning over the phone."

"Ms. Stevens, I'm Jack Conol, the chief of police and I was wondering if you would mind coming over here for some questions?"

The home of the Bradleys, 5:36pm

"What am I doing here?" though Blair as she pulled up to the crime scene. She got out of the red Accord she had rented. Her long legs ached as she walked up the sidewalk. Several cops looked at her. She knew even at 35 she could still turn heads. She purposefully directed her gaze forward as a balding man came towards her.

"A smart looker," thought Jack. "Ms. Stevens, sorry to inconvenience you, but since you seem to have spoken to Mr. Bradley many times recently, and you might be the last person he spoke to, we had to ask you to come."

"I understand," said Blair.

"Good. Now let's go inside to talk."

As Blair and Conol quickly walked into the house he smiled. He was glad the two were talking... glad Bradley was dead. Now it would be that much easier to get rid of Blair.

* * * *

I hope that I too can one day be like Blair - pushing earrings through my ears and still making heads turn at 35. HAH.

Treasure Trove

I promised to share the treasure trove of childhood ramblings and I'm finally finding a spare hour to be able to get to it. As far as I can tell - this short story was crafted by my 6th, 7th or 8th grade self. (That's a guess based on handwriting.) I am going to keep all the original spelling and will probably have to break this up into several installments.

Warnings:

-Even though I came in second in the all-school spelling bee in 8th grade... I'm atrocious at spelling.

-During this period of my life I was reading a lot of Mary Higgins Clark. Scratch that. I read every book that woman wrote one summer. If you've read any of her work you will find some similarities here.

-I haven't read this story all the way through before posting it. I'm just going for it.

"36 Hours till DAYBREAK"

Houston, TX. Wednesday, January 12 at 2:45pm

"Hobby Airport please, and quick"

The tall, imposing, brunet barked out the order as she closed the door of the taxi she had called for over 30 minutes ago. Her flight left at 3:30, if she didn't make it her whole evening would be ruined. Blair Stevens was not late for anything. Blair pulled out her compact and brushed through her hair. She tried to smoothe out the wrinkles of her black skirt. Her outfit was one large oven. The bright red button down sweater and black sweater skirt combo had become suicide on the warm winter Houston day. It was already 67 outside and now there was traffic on I45. How there could be a traffic at 2:45 she didn't know. Blair pulled out her cell phone to call her boss.

"Hi Janet, this is Blair Stevens, could you put me through to Kurt?"

The reply came stiffly over the breaking connection.

"Mr. Phillips is not to be bothered, but if you would like I will give him a message."

"Oh sure, tell him the last leg of my story is being finished tonight and that I will be flying home tomorrow."

"It sure will be nice to have you back Mrs. Stevens."

"Thank you Janet. Goodbye."

"Bye."

The dial tone rang in her ear as she looked out at the buildings. Of course they couldn't compare to New York City, but after telecommuting and traveling to Houston every two weeks for two years she sure would miss it. Blair was a television journalist working for ABC about two years ago. She had been given a story that was going to rock America at its heart. Now, tonight she would be interviewing her last source. Without him she had no story.

"Mam."

Blair opened her eyes to find she was at Hobby airport. She quickly grabbed her purse and handbag as the taxi driver gave her luggage to the porter. She paid the taxi and rushed to the gate. When she got there, the last of the passengers were just getting on. As she boarded a sense of relief came over her. As she fell into a deep sleep hearing the vague sounds of the captain welcoming everyone on their non-stop flight to Dallas. It was now 3:42pm.

Dallas, TX Wednesday, January 12 at 3:45pm

"What do you think chief?"

"Well - it looks to me like we got ourselves one heck of a hit-man, Miller. Some heavy dough was put into this one. The son of a... well... the poor dead guy has a wife and a little girl. He was only 35. He didn't even know what was coming. This guy was shot through his car window as he was pulling out to go to work, or it looks that way. His wife was bringing the kids home from school and they find this."

"Do we know where the guy who shot him was when he did this?"

"It looks like he drove past in his car and shot, but there's nothing to prove it."

The tall, balding police chief left to go inside to speak to the wife.

"This has to be getting to him," thought Sergeant Miller. The Sgt turned to spot the medical examiner.

"Hey Frank, boy have I got a story about this dead guy."

. . . . .

I know. You're just as excited as I am to find out what's going to "rock the heart of America" and if this heck of a hit man has anything to do with it. Deep breaths. I may not have even finished the story. Who knows? Perhaps the chief or Sergeant Miller. My guess is that only Mrs. Blair Stevens -telecommuting journalist for ABC who pays porters to lift her bags - really knows.

(P.S. I think I would like to read a running commentary on this story by Valerie. Anyone else with me?)

Dear Hope.

IF you haven’t read part one of this apparently “never-ending-story” – check it out and then continue reading here.

Saturday was a blur of speaking, shopping, family time and a few intermittent texts from David. At one point my mom, dad, sister and I were sitting out on the back porch and my mom asked when I thought David might “have his ducks in a row.” As far as I knew, he had yet to speak to my dad or to even purchase a ring. I was about to change the subject when my sister lamented that she had to return to work. I was indignant. She had already spent her Saturday morning working. For goodness sakes - her boss was a personal friend. Didn’t he know that she had a family in town? Little did I know – but almost all of my interaction with my family that day was a COMPLETE AND BOLD-FACED LIE.

After dinner I went back up to speak at the girl's conference again and then rushed home to be able to catch David on the phone before he was to go out with the guys in Phoenix. We had about a 15-minute conversation and I hung up feeling frustrated that we hadn’t had time to speak at length in almost two days. Confession: I not only cried when I got off the phone, but I also thought to myself, “If you were really using your time well you could be getting your DUCKS IN A ROW!!” Of course, what I didn’t know (catching a theme here?) was that he was about 5 miles down the road watching NCAA basketball on his hotel tv and trying to gear up for the next day. The ducks were all in a perfect row.

My text from him just before I went to sleep read: “Night babe. Hope tomorrow is perfect for you. Xoxo.”

I crawled into bed and tried to get some sleep.

Sunday morning I jumped up and got ready to give my final talk. My mom, grandmother, and sister had all said they wanted to come with me. Around 9:10am Val text to say that she had overslept and would be meeting up with us at camp. Not a problem. I shared with the girls, had a great time speaking with several of them afterwards, and then turned around to find my family and head home to celebrate over lunch. I could only locate my sister. She claimed that my mother and grandmother had traveled to one of the other camps to see a scenic overlook and that we were to go and meet them there.

I really didn’t give any of this a second thought. I rode with her and only asked a few questions along the way. She was smart enough to distract me with music that I would sing along to. We took the long rode to a beautiful point overlooking Lake Palestine. As we drew near, it became apparent that my mom and grandmother were nowhere to be found. Val said we would merely turn around but then she slowed and pointed to a tree stump in the middle of the clearing. It was holding a small bag. She quickly said, “I think that’s for you.” I got out of the car with a sheepish grin on my face. David had sent a sweet card with me on my trip over Thanksgiving, so I assumed he had mailed something to Texas for me to have during our six days apart. I opened the bag and found a copy of “A Severe Mercy” by Sheldon Vanauken. This book is one of my absolute favorites and is actually one of the main reasons I was interested in David in the first place. He had listed that it was one of the last books he had read right before we met. I couldn’t believe I had found a guy who had not only READ this book, but had enjoyed it as much as I did.

So, I open the book and in it I find a folded piece of paper that reads:

I turned to Valerie and said, “You’re ridiculous.” Because clearly, that’s an appropriate response. At this point Val said something about me needing to stay by myself and read for a while. She then pulled the car door shut and drove off, leaving me in the clearing all alone.

I slowly sank down onto the stump breathing deeply. The pervading thought was, “Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness. This is about to happen. He is here. He is here somewhere. He is in Texas. He is at camp! HE IS HERE!” I’m not sure how long I sat there as the tears began to pool in my eyes. And all of a sudden... I heard him. He was about 40 feet behind me and he gently called out, “Hey.”

Dumbfounded I turned around and stood with my mouth hanging open. He later told me that he had expected me to scream and run to him excitedly. I think I was just in shock. He had completely surprised and overwhelmed me. He finally asked, “Can I have a hug?” I walked forward to help close the distance and clung to the arms of this man I have come to love so deeply. He said lovely and wonderful things and I laughed and cried through it – all the while sporting a giant grin on my face. He knelt and then he asked if I would do life with him and if I would be his wife. The answer was of course, yes.

One week later and I am still in shock. I am humbled by the grace of my Father in Heaven who has seen fit to give this doubting heart such joy and abundance. I am thankful for my dear and wonderful family who have cheered me on through this journey. I am blessed by friends all over the country who have faithfully prayed for this desire of my heart.

I am filled to the brim.

I love this man.
I love this man.
I love this man.

I will spend the rest of this life in awe of the One who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead. I will serve Him by loving this man. This chapter is just beginning.

Dear hope: thanks for holding on.