Back in the Saddle

End radio silence.

I'm back, snitches.

By my count, it's been at least 8 months since I last wrote an entry. SURPRISE! I'm 8 months pregnant right now and about to pop any minute! We're naming him David Junior. Just kidding. But, hey, it could be true and that's how sad my blog abandonment has been. Side note: I don't have the stomach for juniors, seniors, teen-years, etc.

Here is a list of things that could be to blame for not writing:
-Pregnancy (see above) Also, an aside--I apologize for all of this pregnancy talk. I promise you I'm not pregnant, nor am I ready to be, but--YES--everyone else and their mother (BUT NOT MY MOTHER) is, in fact, pregnant. Lawd.
-Broken bones
-World traveling
-Loss of fingers
-Writing a NYTimes Best-Seller
-Too tired
-New life in my brownstone in NYC
-Amnesia, forgot how to type
-Aliens landed and zapped all computers
-Mid-life crisis

Look, it's all somewhat true. Somewhat. But in reality it's the same as everyone else says: I've been busayy. 

On the wings of angels with trumpeters trumpeting and cherubs slapping their roll-y thighs with glee, I departed the NRA for the very last time in early April, and changed gears with a new position as Managing Editor for an association publisher in Alexandria, Va. 

I wish I could tell you it's been wonderful.

But, really, it's been FABULOUS. It feels so refreshing to be challenged again, to be pushed beyond my skill set, to be told "figure it out, and let me know how it goes." I feel I've grown more professionally in the last few months than ever before. I feel energized to be working with a close-knit team and to be already receiving positive feedback from clients. I'm thankful, so thankful.

The rest of it was pretty much a quiet, home-bound summer. Pups that get crazier by the day. Wedding planning and celebration with a dear friend. Date nights. A new car. Family time. Yoga. Beers. Lots of take out. David grew a beard. I turned a quarter-century old.  Simple and sweet.

Also, David gained some major weight. Just kidding. #iwish

The new job kept us at home a lot this summer, and the lack of vacation after a long year and lots of long days was hard but good for us. We were able to take a step back and realize just how lucky we were to be able to take trips and travel, get a little break, in the past, and we look forward to future trips now more than ever. Ideally, we will get to do some traveling in early spring (Spring Break '13, anyone?!?!) but we will just have to wait and see.

Cabin fever, much?!

October is National Down Syndrome Awareness month, and Breast Cancer Awareness month, and hubby's birth month, and my dear friend's wedding month. It will be busy, busy but I'm looking forward to this last breath of the year, before the craziness of the holidays washes in over us and consumes every waking hour. I'm hoping to steal away for a few hours to help support and raise awareness for these two causes that are very near and dear to my heart. Oh and that little thing about the election being one month away. A few things to do about that too.

If you made it this far, I want you to know I'm glad to be back here again. I hope you are too. Who know's where we'll go from here, but I'm thinking, as always, it'll be a wild, wild ride.

Stay tuned.

xoxo

Murphy's Law, AKA: Law of my Life

Some people have allergies, some people get sunburned easily, others have unruly cowlicks, but me, I have Murphy's Law. That's right. Good ole' Murphy. According to Wikipedia, Murphy's Law is defined as "an adage or epigram that is typically stated as: 'Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.'"

Sounds peachy as a way of life, huh? Ole' Murph is so annoying we have even considered (Read: I have considered) naming our first child Murphy in hopes that it will off-set this horrid luck. (Murphy Dangelico. Ick) But, alas, it would probably just end up in an epic, LOST-worthy catastrophe of remote desert islands, excessive nickname-calling and a ridiculously short, evil kidnapper with a God-complex.

The ways in which Murphy's Law plagues me include—but are not limited to—the following:

• First year of being married, insane amount of money due on our taxes
• Multiple gray hairs before 25 (Shout out to my mom who, whenever I comment on my grays, says: "You know, your grandfather was completely white by 25." Please note that the number gets closer and closer to my current age each time she mentions it.)
• My job (Growing up in a rented farm house with no farm animals does not a cowgirl make.)
• Tall, big hands AND big feet ('Nuff said. And none of that "at least you're proportional," shite)
• Eight-kids, poor parents (Sorry Mom.) (You know the song "Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat?" -Aristocats Well, just think of it this way: All my friends are cats. I'm a gargantuan mouse.)
• Car repairs, always at the worst times
• Elbow holes (THIS IS ONE OF THE WORST)
• Fancy and expensive pizza stone breakage
• Excessive sleepiness (I have managed to stay up until 12 exactly once in this new year, at least.)
• Small teeth (See bullet number 4 = cruel combination)
• Honeymoon FAIL (Including: Food poisoning and other undesirable illnesses, excessive buginess, overweight nude sunbathers and lack of AC/fan/a freaking breeze?)
• Queso stain on my only white dress shirt (Cruel and unusual)
• Coupons expiring the day before I want goto use them (ALWAYS)

and finally...the most-current whammy:

• While trying to show a friend (Shout out to SJ!) how to to set-up an out-of-office reply, my email freaks out and sends an out-of-office reply to EVERY SINGLE EMAIL IN MY INBOX. What the? How is that even possible, right? (My boss got 100 emails. The DEPARTMENT HEAD GOT 47.) WHAAT?!

Someone please save me from the evil Murphy. Or just put me out of my misery. (Or just buy me a drink?)

P.S.: And, if, just if, you happen to be wondering what the little evil Murphy Dangelico might look like, Google has an answer for you. And (somehow, in God's name) this is what it came up with:

...I can totally see the resemblance.