It’s true I have a love/hate relationship with Richmond.  Today, though, I’m a little in love with where we live, with all the quirks, bad driving and random snowfall. 

Two links I’ve found in recent days:  the first a Flickr collection of Richmond snow photos.  You can view anyone in Richmond who took pics of the snow and tagged them into this group here.  Cool stuff!

The second is a fairly new local restaurant review guide.  It’s FoodAroundRichmond.com.  They twitter, too.  I love hearing their views on where to dine - and where to skip. 

Show some local love!

Today we are getting our first “snowstorm” in ages.  Seriously I can’t remember the last time we had actual SNOW accumulation (though most Virginians call any snow sighting a “storm” and bumrush Ukrops for bread and milk, two random items I wouldn’t necessarily choose if stranded for weeks on end).  “Snow” around here usually makes me laugh.  Tangentially, Virginia drivers see snow and either drive 5 mph, or stop in the middle of a highway if it gets too scary, or decide that since they have a big Suburban (4WD, y’all!), they can drive 80 mph over the Willey Bridge. 

Apparently, 10 years of living amongst the snowstorm=bread and milk crowd is enough to indoctrinate me into the way a true Southerner greets the fluffy white stuff.  As soon as the national weather outlets began reporting the likelihood of snow, I immediately started planning for school closings and snow forts.  When it actually DID start snowing, I was . . . wait for it . . . EXCITED.  Me.  The girl from Traverse City, Michigan - excited over snow.  I’ve been away from it long enough where snow is a novelty once again, and the idea of PLAYING in it actually sounds appealing.  YAY ME! 

I was nearly as excited as the girls.  We couldn’t wait to don our snow gear and frolic in the clumpy cold wetness.  We stayed up late until our neighbors came out, and we all acted like idiots in the yard.  Our neighbors are from Wisconsin and Pennsylvania, so they have an appreciation (and loathing) for snow.  Since it only happens once every 5 years or so, we can let go of the hate and vitriol we once all contained inside ourselves for the crystal water, and act like crazy people by lobbing snowballs at each other’s heads.  It’s all good.

It feels good to call this crazy place home now.  It’s hilarious to me that the person who used to drive regularly in 4 feet of snow is suddenly excited about 1 foot of snow.  It’s even funnier that I am AFRAID to drive in the snow (though I admit that most of my fear stems from everyone around me on the road never having heard of “pump your brakes”). 

Mike is staying home until the roads clear, so we will continue the Cold Miser festivities by making snowmen and angels tomorrow morning.  Thankfully I have bread AND milk, so we should survive.

Ahhhh.  A nice romantic Valentine’s Day. A crazy day at work where we practiced our “Just say no skills” (more on that later), a rushed drive on Virginia roads to get to preschool to pick up the girls, and my parents, for dinner; the aforementioned dinner complete with meltdowns and bad behavior from BOTH children; the mother, with no patience to spare for anyone or anything, and the father, who says things like “WHY do we do this again?  Is THIS supposed to be FUN???”  Nothing says good lovin’ like a night out with two wild children, your parents, bad chain restaurant food and a ton of family drama on top of it all. 

I did get a fabulous email from Mike with his top 10 list of reasons he loves me.  Most of them were true, at least. 

Speaking of Virginia roads, I have to risk the wrath of Virginians by pointing out that many of them just do not know how to drive.  Or at least, when I learned to drive, I was taught that the left lane was for passing.  In Virginia, the left lane is merely another lane, where people chat on their cell phone, go under the speed limit, or just weave in and out of the lane without using turn indicators. 

Forgive me, I’m a little cranky.

This week has not been stellar.  I was on a high a couple of days ago as Jennifer and I practiced saying no to the client I mentioned earlier, and then actually delivered the news to that client that we would no longer be working with them. Trouble is, they didn’t listen.  One of the things that disarms me the most is begging, or those people who just pretend they didn’t hear you and keep right on asking.  We are now going on Round 4 of saying no.  It will come in the form of an email, and I’m sure there will be some upset email back in Round 5 telling us how stupid and short sighted we are.  One thing I’ve learned (out of maybe 2 or 3 things total) is that going with my gut is the only way to go.  Every time I ignore my gut, I regret it mightily.  So, ding!  Round 5 begins. 

I can’t get into details about the other stuff that has happened because my parents asked me not to and so did my husband.  The fact that he’s a lawyer means that sometimes I have to keep my mouth shut about things, even though I like to pretend that I can lay it all on the line in my blog.  I really can’t.  I can say that a major family skeleton is not only out of the closet - that skeleton is marching around Richmond proper announcing itself to anyone who will listen.  It’s very traumatic for all of us right now and I don’t know how to deal with it.  I’m a strange and sickening combination of extremely angry, extremely upset, and extremely confused.  The situation has also given me a sort of F-You attitude towards everything, I think primarily because I have no room left in my brain to process other issues or problems.  I told Jennifer today that normally when I am stressed like this, I get very withdrawn and cold and bitchy.  Not so during Family Drama Extravaganza 2007!  I’m so beyond “stress” that I’m actually slap-happy. 

So, I’ve been silent.  As I’ve said before, I don’t really care for blogging when I can’t be open about what’s happening.  That’s pretty much how I am in life as well. It doesn’t help that I’ve had raging PMS and have been eating like a pig for a week either.  If someone tells me that I can’t “stuff” my emotions with food, I’m going to hit them with a chocolate croissant.  I get blog-stipation when I can’t be honest here - I get all crampy and angry and feel like I’m going to explode.  That’s why silence for me is deadly.  Apparently I just need the equivalent of a literary Ex-Lax.

We’ve spent the better part of the weekend moving crap from our garage to the new house’s garage, sweating, cursing, bleeding, and making what I’m sure is a fabulous impression on the new neighbors.  Mike and Dad started scraping the balloon wallpaper in Arden’s room - it didn’t go as well as they had hoped.  Mike took a break to help me unload the truck (Steve loaned us his - thanks, bro), and stabbed his finger on an exacto blade that was hanging out in the truck bed for some reason. While Mike gushed blood, Mom drove to the closest drugstore for bandages.  The girls were all fired up in their new space, having competions to see who could make the louder noise in a house with wood floors and no furniture. 

The first words our neighbors to the right of us heard us say were probably “Lily, STOP SPITTING RIGHT NOW! THAT’S DISGUSTING!”  She was spraying spittle all over the new outdoor rug and running around with mashed potatoes smeared all over her face.  Arden was even worse - she had her fingers in everyone’s mashed potatoes and had some in her hair, ear, and all over her face.  It was like an orgy of food.  Meanwhile, the Southern Living Garden Magazine Centerfold that lives next to us probably thought it was time to put their house on the market.  We are loud, dirty, and I know that Mike and I were smelly from a day in 100% humidity and moving.  Plus, I think the last time Mike saw the inside of the shower was Friday morning.  Ewwww. 

Speaking of humidity, what the hell is up with Virginia?  Is it really necessary for any place to be this hot?  How can the temperature gauge tell me it’s only 80, yet 5 minutes outside liquifies me?  I’m not really a sweaty person by nature (oh, sorry mom - I mean, I don’t normally PERSPIRE . . .ladies don’t sweat, we PERSPIRE), but Virginia sucks all water from my body within seconds during the summer.  I hate summer here.  I really do.  I nearly really made a nuisance (and an ass) of myself by jumping uninvited into the neighbor’s perfect pool today, fully clothed and very sweaty.

Posts will be sporadic until the Comcast people deign to grace me with their presence and hook us up.  I’m also really tired and looking forward to drooling on myself as I watch Seinfeld and pass out in bed. 

Yesterday, Lily went to two back-to-back birthday parties.  Thankfully she played so hard, even the 42 pounds of sugar she ingested wasn’t enough to keep her awake at bedtime.  Not having a nap helped as well. 

Watching her at Romp n’ Roll yesterday was so much fun.  Now that she’s comfortable there, and knows the drill, she goes nuts.  She dances like a maniac, she answers questions, she swings from the trapeze, slides, and generally acts like a nut.  Her face was bright red (just like mine when I work out) within a few minutes of the party starting. 

Mike took her to the earlier party at the Children’s Museum.  He was tired and quiet yesterday so I didn’t get many details about it other than what flavor cake they served (I love a man with my priorities). 

Saturday we looked at a house that is for sale in Oak Park.  We didn’t like it.  It had an even worse floor plan than our existing house and was decorated in what I like to call Southern Living at Home meets Flea Market style.  Frankly I’m not much for southern decorating. All those fabrics and patterns competing for your attention - good lord, it stressed me out.  Not to mention the 5 foot “antiqued” white bunny that was carved from wood and displayed prominently in their parlor.  The wallpaper was equally heinous - huge bright tulips in a strange, frantic pattern - all over the bathroom.  There were a lot of “Bless This Mess” signs country wood furniture mixed with chintz, toile, and possibly some other floral prints.  My mind started to block it out after a while. 

After exiting the house, we wandered around the neighborhood trying to find ways into the model homes, as well as the homes that hadn’t been finished yet.  We weren’t very successful but managed to look in a lot of windows and annoy the neighbors.  The girls ran around and sometimes rested in the stroller for a bit.  Sara and Tim were with us and taught Lily about pinecones - she made us go straight home to put peanut butter and bird seed on one of the pinecones she picked up at the lot we are considering buying.  It was nice to be there during the day and also to have some input from my parents, who have built homes.  They looked at the plans and gave us some feedback. 

Saturday night we had dinner with mom and dad and Steve and Vicki at Bonefish Grill, which was delicious.  I ate too much but whatever.  I even drank a daiquiri.  It was wonderful being without the girls for a few hours at a nice restaurant.  Vicki looked at the plans - she didn’t say anything, so I’m assuming that means she doesn’t care for it. Not that I am surprised - they go for very contemporary homes, and this one is patterned after a home that would have been built in the 1920’s or 30’s.  I’m sure many people, not just them, think we’re nuts - why build this house when we could get 4000 square feet in a subdivision?  To which my response is, I’ve been living in a production house for three years and they are crappy homes.  We’ve put as much personality as we can into our house, but that ain’t saying much.  It’s hard to give a rock a personality, you know? 

Anyway, it was a good weekend and the girls had a good time as well playing with Katie Brown and blowing bubbles.  I have lots of other things to post on, but I must get some work done now.