little black journal

There’s a part of me that wants to dislike Valentine’s Day – I know it’s become a “Hallmark Holiday”, full of commercialism and consumption and cheeseball sayings on little candy hearts.  But here’s the problem when it comes to me hatin’ on V-day:  I’m married to a man that decided to surprise me with a decadent French dinner at Chloe tonight and hold my hands across the table and be all romantic and stuff.  And really, who am I to turn down champagne and mussels and sorbet-topped meringue?  So I’m putting aside any bah-humbug feelings and embracing the mushy-lovey-dippy-doo.  Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Schnell.  It was fun to get out on the town and be all fancy-pants with you (and it’s also fun to sit here in our PJs and catch up on the Daily Show).  I heart you mucho.

Yesterday marked the end of our annual month-long practice in frugality.  31 days of no eating out, no shopping, no spending outside of regular bill-paying and grocery-buying.  It was a loooong January…  It’s tempting to ramble on about the things I missed or craved or bitterly denied myself, but I have to remember what a blessing it is that we do this out of choice rather than necessity.  The fact of the matter is this: we live a very charmed life.  So I’m looking back on the month with a couple of lessons learned, a couple of goals for the coming months, and a whole heap of gratitude for the multitude of blessings we enjoy that money can’t buy.

First, Starbucks is a non-necessary evil.  There are three Starbucks stores within one block of my office, and I had developed a habit of making not one, but often two trips in a day to indulge in a latte or Americano.  Not so much for the caffeine fix, but because I liked the routine of it – I liked the mid-afternoon break, the smile from my friendly barista, the warmth of that white-and-green cup in my hands as I walked back to my office.  And yet, I was surprised to find that I hardly missed my visits to the old ‘Bux around the corner last month.  The office tea cupboard is well-stocked, and let’s be real – that barista I felt so attached to didn’t even know my name.

Second, eliminating eating out from your diet usually results in a caloric decrease – weight loss may indeed a positive side effect of frugality!  However, if you’re baking chocolate chip banana bread and carrot cake with cream cheese frosting to pull yourself through the long, restaurant-less weeks, don’t even bother stepping on that scale.  Damn.

Third, it pays to rummage.  There were several days when my meal planning went amiss and we were left scratching our heads, staring at the cupboards and complaining that there was nothing to eat.  But when faced with the challenge, I unearthed the fixin’s for some pretty good meals – pasta with marinara sauce, curry noodle soup, veggie stir-fry’s.  Then there were the nights that I ate an apple and peanut butter with a side of chips and salsa for dinner.  Don’t judge.

Fourth, sharing a home-cooked meal with good friends at a dining room table beats sitting in a crowded restaurant (almost) any day.  We shared meals with our fellow frugal-ites (it’s become something of a movement among our friends!) almost every Sunday this month, and it was grand.  When at home, you linger longer, you get to pick the music playing in the background, and you can wear yoga pants and slipper socks at the table.  Nice!  Spending time in the warm and cozy kitchens of friends was what made feel the month feel not-so-bad.

We’re determined that this practice of discipline will influence how we think about consumption over the coming year – it’s not just about saving money, it’s about being more mindful of the “needs” vs. “wants” vs. “shoulds and should-nots”.  Lucky for me, my lunchtime burrito bowl with a side of chips qualified on all counts.  T.G.I.February.

I had a dream about Robert Pattinson last night.  We were at a party and he was being all cool and Edward-y (minus the sparkles), and I was being all swoony and silly, and then, in the wee hours of the morning, I woke up.  I suffered just the shortest moment of disappointment that it was over, but then I rolled over and I looked at my husband sleeping next to me, snoring in his easy, quiet way, and I thanked my lucky stars for him.  I bet Shane is reading this now and thinking, “Say what?  You snuggled up on me this morning and wanted to spoon because you had a dream about a Twilight character?!”  But honey, no, that’s not it – I snuggled up on you because I love you and sometimes I am just so stinkin’ happy that I get be yours.  That you get to be mine.

Sometimes I forget to be thankful, and I spend my energy nagging, or pouting, or pushing Shane away, and I’m sorry for that.  Because, really, my man in the bee’s knees.  Cases in point:

He makes me laugh.  Probably every day.  I was sitting in the living room last night blog-surfing and he was downstairs in the office hackin’ around (my phrase for his complicated technological exploits), and suddenly, in the midst of the quiet, I heard him belt out the lyrics to some old-school Rage Against the Machine song.  I poked my head into the office and he started playing the air-drums and wildly shaking his head from side to side.  He had his headphones on, and the fact that I couldn’t hear the music made it even funnier.   He may or may not have been singing for me, but I don’t care – I’m just glad to bear witness to his unabashed silliness.

He’s my #1 fan, my loudest cheerleader and strongest advocate.  He shares in all my greatest joys, never hesitating to tell me that he’s proud of me and remind me that I have the potential to do anything I want to do.  And he often tells me that I’m hot.  That’s awfully nice.

He’s a rock.  He’s steady under pressure, cool in the midst of chaos, affirming when life starts to feel kinda…ick.  And he never ever lets me feel like I’m going at it alone – even in tough situations that don’t directly involve him, he insists “We will get through this”.  Sometimes I’m bugged by the “we” that so often replaces “I” once you get married, but sometimes that little two-letter pronoun holds so much comfort.  We got through the stress of my licensing exams a couple of years ago, we carry each other’s burdens in work and finances and relationships, we figure out how to do life together.  His contribution might be as simple as picking me up from work when I’ve had an especially long day, but sometimes that’s all it takes for me to be reassured that he’s not expecting me to fly solo.

So…thanks, baby.  Edward ain’t got nothin’ on you.

We are now half-way through our annual tradition of Frugal January – 16 days and counting of no eating out, no stops at the cafe for a piping hot latte, no shopping, no non-essential spending.  And really, it hasn’t been so bad, especially when we have weekends like this one when all I really want to do is hole up inside with my Kindle and my stash of tea and chocolate, anyway.  The past couple of days might very well go down in the books as laze-fest 2012, as I spent nearly every waking moment on the couch, leaving the house only to accept a couple of dinner invitations from friends (which was perfect, since cooking would have required more effort than I was willing to put forth, anyway…).  And it. was. glorious. Sunday was particularly perfect – we’d heard murmurings on Saturday that Seattle-ites could soon expect the first snowfall of the season, and I awoke the next morning to frosty rooftops and freezing temps.  It wasn’t quite the white wonderland I’d hoped for, but I kept my fingers crossed and by 10am, big, puffy flakes were falling from the sky, draping our yard in a bright white blanket.  We watched the neighborhood kids make snow angels in the driveway, I baked pumpkin spice muffins, and we burrowed under a pile of blankets for some serious veg time.  While Shane watched football, I pulled out my watercolors and played around in my sketchbook, reveling in the comfort of our home and the pretty, bright light that came through the windows as it bounced off the snow.  It was all kinds of good.

We ended the day with a hot pot dinner at Jack and La Verne’s – a January tradition I’ve come to associate with so much warmth and laughter and fellowship – a good-for-my-soul kind of meal for a good-for-my-soul kind of weekend.

I put together our 2012 calendar today, which involved sifting through the past year’s photos and selecting snapshots of our favorite 2011 moments.  And I know I say this every year, but dang, it’s been a good year.  This has probably been our biggest travel year ever, with vacations in Florida, Chicago/Minneapolis, and Europe, and lots of little weekend getaways to places like San Francisco, Vancouver, and Portland.  We’ve shared countless meals with close friends, we’ve made special trips to connect with family, we’ve felt our hearts overflow with love, both given and received.  I’ve drawn and painted, I’ve cooked new things, I’ve enjoyed successes and new opportunities at work.  I’ve laughed a lot.  But there have also been moments when big, dark clouds overtook our happy, sunny skies – there have been times this year when we’ve felt deep, deep loss, when our hearts have broken for friends and family that are going through things we can’t fix.  There have been times when I’ve cried to God, asked him “why?” and heard nothing but silence.  And then I take my fingers out of my ears and remember His faithfulness – He reminds me of his presence time and again, in a hug from Shane, in an encouraging note from a friend, in a spectacular sunset or park full of autumn leaves.  Indeed, I have much to be thankful for.

Tonight we’ll close out the year with friends and champagne here at home.  There may be a dance party involved.  There will definitely be plenty of laughter and joy.  Peace out, 2011.  It’s been real.

Merry, indeed.  Our day was full of food, family, football, and plenty of quality rest and holiday cheer.  We ate until we could eat no more (a nine-pound ham, a mound of mashed potatoes, gravy, glazed carrots, brussel sprouts, stuffing, buns, apple pie and pumpkin pie – whew!), we opened gifts, we Skyped with family, we lounged while Shane indulged in an NBA marathon, we ate some more, and then we filled our fridge with Tupperware towers of leftovers.  Shane’s mom and dad have settled into our place, and our home has never felt warmer, with the smell of apple pie wafting in the air and the sound of family memories being recounted in the living room.

Happy Holidays, friends – tidings of comfort and deepest joy from the Schnells!

I don’t know if it’s the warm glow of our Christmas tree, or the addition of some really good stuff to our Netflix queue (have you seen Breaking Bad? o.m.g.…), or the way I fit just right in the corner of our new leather sectional, but I am especially loving home and its abundance of comforts these days. I’m loving homemade cookies and cups of hot chocolate, cranking up my Christmas mix on the stereo and sitting by our tree laden with so many memory-filled ornaments. I didn’t go into work on Monday, thinking I’d get a jump start on the cleaning and grocery shopping before Shane’s parents arrive on Friday, but instead I spent the entire day camped out on the sofa with my knitting and my book, just wanting to soak in the quiet joy of being at home during this Advent season. Home…that word used to conjure up feelings of uncertainty and a longing for times past, having lost my connection to my childhood house when my parents left California; now that word brings so much comfort and contentedness, as we more deeply root ourselves in Seattle year by year. Shane and I are continually reassured that we are just where we’re meant to be, in our cozy little South Seattle town home, surrounded by neighbors we trust and friends we adore, with a bakery nearby that serves the best ginger scone I’ve ever tasted and a pizza place that has redefined our understanding of thin crust (I know, it sounds like I’m putting baked goods and pizza up there with neighbors and friends, and…I am. hehe.). I’ve had a couple of friends make big moves lately, leaving Seattle for the sunny beaches of San Diego, and I felt small pangs of envy as they left, wanting to resist the fact that at the age of 30, I’m already “all settled down”. But really, settled feels pretty good for us right now. There really is no place like home for the holidays.

When I first moved to Seattle over six years ago, I prayed that I’d find girlfriends here that I could come to know and love and count on through thick and thin; God heard me loud and clear and slowly but surely brought a group of really fabulous women into my life. And I’ve been loving my ladies somethin’ fierce these days, with lots of extra-special girl-fests popping up on the calendar. I was sitting in a movie theater with several friends last weekend, and as we all rolled our eyes (translation: gaped, open-mouthed) and giggled (translation: swooned) together over the latest Twilight movie, I wondered how I got so lucky. It was just so…good for my soul to take part in an all-out ladies night, to sit around a dinner table and share in deep, meaningful conversation, then head to a movie and be silly and young together.

I can’t ever get enough of these gals, which is why I proposed a little a getaway sans husbands to Nancy and La V a few weeks ago. It took all of three seconds to convince them we were due for a night away together, and so we promptly booked a room at the Willows Lodge in Woodinville, scheduled our massages, packed our bags with chick flicks and nail polish and junk food, and yesterday at noon, we were off. It. was. heaven. From the minute we set foot in our room and watched Nancy take a flying leap onto one of the big, fluffy beds, we knew we were in for something good. I think we would have been happy just to put our pajamas on mid-afternoon and hole up for the next 24 hours, but we all had appointments at the lodge’s spa, so we headed back out for our massages and a good, long soak in the whirlpool. Feeling super-relaxed and sufficiently prune-like, we headed back to the room, again thinking we’d be happy to put our pajamas on and call it a night, but instead decided to head down to the hotel bar, where we enjoyed a light dinner, fire-side. The rest of the night was filled with pedicures, Reese’s peanut butter cups, and chick flicks back at the room. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night – could have been the massage, or it could have been Ryan Gosling’s performance in The Notebook, but I’m pretty sure it was actually the time with my girls that had me so giddy. This morning was full of more lazy goodness, with breakfast in bed while we watched Little Women, thoughtfully debating which March sister each of us resembled the most, but ultimately deciding it didn’t matter- we really just wanted to end up with Laurie. Check-out time was at noon, and we grudgingly rolled our bags out the door at 12:01, feeling a little bummed that our epic little getaway had come to an end, but certain that there would be more of these in the future.

Yes, it’s been awhile since I gave this old blog some love – work has been pretty all-consuming for the past couple weeks, which meant that many of my favorite pastimes have fallen by the wayside.  I haven’t blogged in a couple of weeks, I haven’t read anything other than emails and excerpts from the building code, and I’m in danger of completely forgetting the combination to my gym lock.  But finally, the drawings are out the door, the deadline has been met, and after a day-long, crazy-good stress detox, I am back.  I set yesterday aside as a me-day (kind of a ‘Treat Yo-Self 2011’ for all you Parks and Rec fans) – no work, no chores, just true R and R.  I woke up late, I spent awhile reading at a cozy little table while enjoying a buttermilk biscuit and latte from Macrina, I booked a massage and simultaneously cringed and sighed as the masseuse worked the knots out of my shoulders, and I spent an hour wandering through the mall, enjoying the Holiday displays and running my fingers over stacks of thick, cozy sweaters.  I had moments where I thought, “I should check my work email”, or “I shouldn’t spend money on a massage when I have Christmas gifts to buy”, but ultimately decided that I had earned the right to be completely self-indulgent, so I shrugged my jello-y shoulders, dug into the box of chocolate-peanut butter goodies that Shane’s mom sent us, and reveled in the feeling of guilt-free relaxation.  I remember the first time I heard the words “mental health” day – I laughed a little, because it just sounded so…subjective, and kinda hippy-dippy.  But after seeing what a day off can do to take away the crazy, I’m a believer.  I lived life in the slow lane, and let me tell you, I’ll be keeping the pedal off the metal for as long as humanly possible.

After a hectic week of work travel and deadline-ing back at the office, then scurrying around at home to get our bags packed and the house cleaned (I’m kind of neurotic about pre-vacation housekeeping), we. are. off! And praise God, ’cause we need this getaway. Shane and I are both feeling dog-tired right about now. I’ve been focused on trying to prepare for the trip properly, wanting to make sure we see the best museums and eat at the best restaurants and speak the right language, but now, what I want more than anything from this vacation is deep, quality, life-giving rest. If this means skipping a round of cocktails to turn in early, so be it. If we decide to pass on the Louvre for the sake of spending an afternoon reading in a cafe, that’s a-ok with me. Then again, maybe there’s rejuvenation to be found in liquor and art – I’m just committing to making sure the want-to’s take priority over the should-do’s. We’ll see where the Dutch winds blow us (the forecast for Amsterdam is 30 mph winds and rain, so this isn’t just a metaphor!). I’ll report from the other side of the pond – a bientot…