It's a Schmaltzy Christmas

I used to be a Fisher. I was PROUD to be a Fisher. I did things the Fisher way - very proper, on time, never disheveled, and sometimes, juuuust sometimes, I was accused of being a snob. I would like to take a moment here to point out that "anal retentive" doesn't mean "snob". It simply means we like to do things a certain way. That is still true for many things in my life. I run my business my way and no one else will do it as well. That's not to say that other businesses aren't wildly successful, they absolutely are, but rather that no one would run my business as well as I do. Hmm... am I rambling?  Yes. Yes I am. But, just let it be said for the record: I was, and always will be, proud to have been a Fisher. I love the way my parents brought me up and hope to be only so good to my nieces and nephews.

When it comes to the general operation of my home life, however, I have to compromise with Hubband. I can't do everything the Fisher way - I must make room in my rather Fisher-ized brain for the Schmaltz way of doing things. The most recent occurrence of this is in relation to our FIRST EVER Team Schmaltz Christmas tree. I had a very particular idea in my head of what I wanted. I could visualize it, and had all the necessary accoutrement at my disposal at the store: Gold! Yes... gold! Gold ornaments, gold tinsel, a gold tree-topper. It would be glorious. Then I crashed back down to earth and noticed the adorable man Christmas tree and ornament shopping with me. Oh, right, he's a Schmaltz. He's perhaps got another way of decorating. We actually had this conversation in Target:

Me: "Uh, babe, so, um, are we going to do this tree, like... Fishers?"

Him: *slightly confused look*

Me: "Or we could do it like your family. There's nothing wrong with that. I mean, the Fisher's way is really pretty, and organized, but I'm sure your way is nice too..."

Him: *giggling* "Well what do YOU want?"

Me: *mental damnation... face crumbling into a stupid grin* "Ok, we'll give it the Schmaltz-touch. But can all the ornaments at least match?"

So you're asking yourself, how did he win that battle? Because he gives me this look like "Really? Are you even asking this question? Why don't we do it OUR way". He's so "on" about making it our traditions, not our parents.  It's awesome. The man may not have a firm grip on the use of ten-dollar words but when it comes to matters of the heart he's got it goin' on!

So, for the very first time, allow me to reveal a very Schmaltzy Christmas tree. This is our first-ever real-size Christmas tree that we've bought and/or decorated on our own. To confirm the conviction of surprise from my mother, here's what she said to me: 

"Did YOU buy it or did someone else buy it for you?". 

Yeah, Mum, your little girl is all growed up. We bought it ourselves.

Oh, and for those of you who may not be familiar with the term "Schmaltzy", allow me to dispel any misconceptions right now:  There are two definitions. Well, maybe three. The first is "chicken fat" or "lard" which very clearly isn't true of either of us. The second is "bathetic, drippy, hokey, maudlin, mawkish" (I don't know two of those words...). The third, and more common definition that I like to ascribe to is from my Jewish friends in San Diego: Schmaltz (or to be Schmaltzy) is "the good stuff, the flavor". I like to think Hubband and I are definitely the good stuff. At least for each other.

Okay, okay, enjoy the few pictures. Another post is on it's way very very soon....

My Birthday Week

The countdown is done, and it seemed like everyone enjoyed it. For those of you who followed it, "thanks"! It was fun to be able to share all the good things in my life. And now that I'm actually 30, and far wiser than I was last week at the tender age of 29, I have to say thank you again to everyone for making my birthday week.  

"Week?" you say.

"Yes", I say, "I've had a birthday WEEK! And it's not over yet".

On Friday I had to host a Wedding Rehearsal which is work for me. Yes, I know, I do have an amazing job. Thank you for noticing. But to make my birthday day feel more like a birthday and less like any other day I have to work, my bestie Kate took me out for lunch. She was super sneaky and told her boss that she had "personal errands" to run. Looks like I'm a personal errand. I hope I'm not one of those errands that is dreaded, though, like picking up a prescription or making dental appointments. Just kidding, Katy, I know I'm not. Love you! She brought me a delightful "New Hands" kit from Bath and Body Works that I not only adore but desperately needed.

I also received many excellent birthday wishes through Facebook and one especially touching phone call from my pals over at La Vida Creations. I only wish I could record sound on here (wait... I know there's one smarty-pants out there waiting to tell me that I can) so you could hear the message.  It was a great pick-me-up after a rather frustrating rehearsal where the officiant who refused to call me back before the Wedding announced that he would need a podium tomorrow at the Wedding. Awesome timing, dude. :-P

Unfortunately Hubband was really sick (he had the flu last week) so we didn't go out for dinner. However, he did go to the grocery store and get me the makings of my favorite snack that my girl Gaby taught me (french bread, dipped in oil an vinegar, then layered with fresh slices of mozzarella cheese, tomato and basil). He wasn't, unfortunately, allowed to make me the food since I was trying to stay healthy for the Wedding but it's easy to put together. He also got me a delicious Red Velvet birthday cake. It really should have been submitted to Cake Wrecks but it was delicious and we didn't want to take the time to take photos before we dug into it's sugary goodness. He also surprised me with the Susan Collins "Hunger Games" trilogy and the "Twilight: Eclipse" movie which he suffered through with me that night. Now that's love!

On Saturday I worked the Wedding but had lots of birthday hugs and wishes from all the vendors. It was very sweet of them. On Sunday we lazed around and I was able to have my birthday phone calls from my parents and my in-laws - something I didn't have time for on my actual birthday due to work.

Monday was another birthday day. We had dinner out with our family friends (Shogun Kobe goodness!) where they delivered not only our Christmas presents from our family back home in Canadia (yes, I meant to type it that way) but my birthday prezzie from my parents. It's GORGEOUS! It's a purple, black and green plaid cape from Etcetera out of New York. Once I get a good picture of me in it, I'll post it but so far the pictures have been poor quality cell phone pictures. Diane and Dave (our Canadian friends) also brought me my two favorite treats: Smarties and Gummy Marshmallow Frogs. No, not American Smarties, the good kind, from Canadia. Never had them? Well, consider your life less-lived than mine! 

On Tuesday my Hubband took me out for lunch. I'll call it a belated birthday lunch since we hadn't gone out to celebrate yet. And what did I get? Another birthday present from a friend. Two fabulous new books from author's I've never read before. I'm psyched to get to them over the holidays.

Today I'm giving myself a birthday present: a day at home to do all the things I've been meaning to do since June - clean the office, archive files, set up a better file structure for my clients, etc. Yes, I know it sounds like work, and I suppose it is work related, but I'm feeling so much lighter for having it done. 

I'm not sure what tomorrow will hold, perhaps nothing, but I know that Friday is my birthday party with a few of my closest friends. I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing (Hubband does love to surprise me) but I do know that some of my favorite people will be there to help me ring in a great new year. So here's to 30! May it be the best yet!

30 MINUS 1 DAY!

Holy frick!  Do you know what tomorrow is???  It's my 30th birthday.  The 30th birthday isn't just any old birthday, it's THE birthday.  It means I'm an adult now. Or at least I'll try to tell myself that.  It means I'm past my crazy 20's and the disasters of the teens is all but forgotten (almost... *wicked grin*).  

But, as you've all been on my countdown with me (at least I hope I haven't gone this alone... you've been there, right?) I'll bet you're anxious to find out the #1 reason I think I'm made in the shade on my 30th birthday! Hmmm... let's see... what shall that reason be? Hmmm... right, like I have to guess.  Without further ado... 

Reason #1

HUBBAND!

Duh, right?  Gosh, I don't even know where to start without tearing up.  Long story short, we were made for each other.  We met in high school and while it maybe wasn't love at first sight (he was shorter than me... c'mon, give a girl a break) it was meant to be.  We just... fit.  

I know he reads this blog (he spends his life with me but he still reads my silly rants anyway) so he's going to get an eye-full of what he means to me - and now you all do too.  Well, both of you who read this, anyway.  

To me, his is perfect.  He's the yin to my yang.  He's calm when I'm a hot mess; he's smart when I'm, for lack of a better expression "too pretty to know". He's kind when I want to be mean, he's supportive when I think it's time to give up. He's been there through hell and back (both caused by me, and by things we couldn't control) and through it all he managed to love me. I may not look like Nicole Kidman (his other dream girl - can you blame him?) but he chose me. Short, plump, goofy, crazy me. He does seem to think I'm funny, and he laughs when I cry at Biggest Loser. He thinks I'm cute in pigtails and he laughs so hard his nose crunches up when I eat something that I don't like (usually because he makes me try it). He loves to surprise me with gifts or parties which suits me just fine because I do love a good surprise. He cooks for me since I gave up trying to be a good cook years ago, and he takes care of me, all without holding it over my head.  

Oh lawd... here we go... the waterworks are starting... *sniff*

He smells better than any man I've ever met and I love going to bed next to him and waking up beside him the next day.  He's always warm and while he sometimes screws up his face when I put a cold hand on his warm back, he never makes me take my hand away.  He'll get me that box of cookies at 9:30 at night (from the grocery store) without telling me I shouldn't eat them 'cuz I'll gain weight.  And then he takes the box to work the next day so I won't eat any more of them because he knows I'll hate myself if I do.  

He let's my crack on his terrible taste in music (ick... country) and let's me think that I'm the better driver.  He bought me a house with a pink front door because I fell in love with it and he lets me decorate the house however I want, even if that means he's not allowed to hang his speakers from the ceiling.  That's not a joke - he would, in the office, if I'd let him.  He's taking me to Scotland for our belated honeymoon because it's where I want to go.  It's not his first choice but he's excited because I'm excited.  

But for you men out there reading this - don't read this wrong.  He's not "whipped" or "trained".  He's just who he is.  He's the man of the house.  He takes care of me, he provides for me, and he does it all without me feeling pathetic.  He supports me in starting a business that's not making any money yet, but doesn't make me feel bad for wanting a fabulous new purse, or a to-die-for pair of shoes.  

He is, without a doubt, my best friend. He is my reason to celebrate and the reason my life is as amazing as it is as I reach this milestone. Thank you, my dear Hubband. I love you today, tomorrow, and forever.  So much.

And P.S.  Happy 56th birthday to my Daddy-o today.  I love you, Dad.

*Photo courtesy of Resolusean Photography

30 minus 2 days!

Oh. Em. Gee!!! I'm getting so friggin' excited that my birthday is almost here. I think this is the tri-fecta of birthdays. I'm going to be 30, which I'm super stoked about, I love my life, AND! My birthday is on a Friday! Pretty sweet, right? But let's chat about the second last reason out of 8 that I think my life is made, and why I want to celebrate big this year for my 30th birthday!

Reason #2

I have started my own family. No, no, not babies, for those of you who are getting so excited, but a family, just the same.

I have Hubband, of course, the sexiest man alive - also the funniest, smartest, sweetest, kindest, yada yada yada, but I don't want you to get sick all over your keyboard. But more than Hubband I have my crazy little pooch, Peaches. She's our baby. For years and years I wanted a dog of my own but logic prevailed and I didn't get a dog. It's a good thing, too, since I moved so much. But now, I have a dog. And she's perfect. Well, she's perfect for me and Hubband. She's funny, and smart and totally crazy and makes us laugh on a daily basis. Even if it's out of frustration. She loves her mini tennis balls something fierce and goes bonkers if you say the word "Treat". And best of all, she's a total cuddle-bug.  

My day dreams of owning a dog were of me, sitting on a couch, reading my book or watching a movie, with my little dog curled up in my lap. And you know what? I got THAT dog. From the day we brought her home in 2008 she hasn't let a day go by without cuddling in my lap, on my shoulder, or at my feet.  My day dream is not only fulfilled, it's surpassed. Despite the frustrations when she's not listening as well as she should, or when she loses her damn mind when the doorbell rings, she has truly made my life better.

I'm sure, by now, you can guess what Reason #1 is. Just in case you can't, though, I guess you'll have to come back tomorrow!

*Photo courtesy of Resolusean Photography

30 minus 3 days!

So yesterday's post started my love-fest.  And today it continues.  With?  Duh-da-da-da!  

Reason #3

I - finally - get along with my family.  I couldn't have made that statement ten years ago.  Heck, not even 5 years ago, probably.

My Dad is my pal (and really, he always has been) and he talks to me about business like an equal.  That's pretty freakin' cool since he's been "the man" for a huge oil and gas company.  He, too, owns his own business and talks to me about how to market better, and asks me for help with project drafting.  I love that I'm a resource to my Dad!

My sister and I talk like friends now.  Sure, we have the common denominator of having the same parents, but we talk about other stuff too.  She tells me about her work (I was the FIRST person she called when she delivered her first baby a couple of years ago - I'll never forget; I was walking out of the Bellagio in Las Vegas) and she teaches me stuff.  She's amazing.  She's a nurse, a labor and delivery nurse to be specific, and she knows stuff. Like stuff, stuff.  She knows when a fetus is officially viable (I'm pretty sure its 20 weeks), and she knows what NICU stands for (Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit, I'm pretty sure). She's not grossed out by... gulp... vagina's (ew... I even hate typing that word) and she knows how to give people needles. Do you know what that means?  That means she can actually find a vein, a tiny freakin' vein, and put a needle in it. That's INSANE! Suffice it to say, that despite all the ups and downs of sisterhood, my sister absolutely amazes me.

And my Mum. Oh, Mum. We finally figured it out. It took about 28 years for us to get it right, but I think we did. Quick... where's some wood... *knock knock* Growing up we used to fight something awful.  Dad said it was because we're so much alike. And you know what? We are! And damned if I'm not proud as punch to be like my Mum. Hubband calls me Katie when he sees me act like my Mum (which is appropriate since her name is Katie - I'd be concerned if he called me Sharon). And I think I'm finally making my Mum proud. It's not something that parents tell their kids often (or perhaps as often as we feel we need to hear it) but every so often, I know she's really proud of me. And that makes me proud.

Sigh... how's that for something to celebrate? Sure, we're a small family, but we're getting it right. I love that we all need one another, even though I'm a grown up.  

Are you sick of all this happiness yet? Ready for Reason #2?

30 minus 4 days!

Okay, so here we are, at the halfway point in the list of reasons why, at the age of 30, I believe my life is made.  The previous posts (#8, #7, #6 and #5) were all fun.  Now it's time to get serious.  Seriously mushy!  Keep reading if you're up for some lovin'!

Reason #4

I have amazing friends.  The kind of friends that make you proud to know them.  Not the friends who you only introduce to certain people.  The kinds of friends who you feel lucky to have because you think they're way cooler than you are!

I have a girlfriend who works for the City of Calgary - I think that's super cool.  I have a girlfriend who was a former client who, when not working full time this past year, wrote a book.  A book, people.  Who does that? My friend does that, that's who.  I have friends who know famous people, and I have friends who want to see me make it big in life.  I have friends I can cry with when I need to, and friends who come to me when they need help.  I have friends who worked on Wall Street (literally) and friend who dream of doing nothing more than making a wonderful life for their family.  So what makes all of this something to celebrate?  Because they picked little old me to be their friend.  I'm constantly blown away at how much love there is in the world - I see it every day in the emails, the phone calls, the text messages, the cards, the Facebook status updates... it's AMAZING!  

My friends make my life a success.  

Reason #3 is filled with more love... can you handle it?

30 minus 5 days!

Reason #5

I moved to California.  Damn skippy that means my life is made!

Well, sure, most of you that read this blog know that I'm a Californian but I didn't start out here.  I was born in Toronto, Ontario, Canada and moved to Calgary, Alberta when I was 5 1/2.  I grew up accepting that I would always have winter birthdays and long for a summer birthday.  But here, in sunny SoCal I finally get my summer birthdays.  I mean, seriously, how cool is that?  Well, it's not cool at all - it's HOT!  

In California I can wear adorable shoes year 'round without fear of snow-damage and I never have to plug my car in... unless I get a new electric car, that is.  It's never the wrong time of year for margarita's and I can go watch Monster Jam in an open-air stadium.  My guests who visit from Canada can sit out on my back patio at 8am with a cup of coffee or at 8pm with a glass of wine and the only thing they need for warmth is good conversation and a light sweater.

And best of all... I live in California.  No... please read that again.  I live. In California.  HOLY CRAP, right?  Any given day I can drive less than 10 miles and be at the ocean; I can watch the sea lions every day of the week and have my lunch meetings a stone's throw from the beach.  Heck, I can walk on the beach every day if I want to.  I mean, isn't that what we all work for throughout most of our lives?  To live somewhere warm and have access to all we want in life?  Well... I do.  I win! 

Reason #4 starts to get sappier.  I hope you're ready for a couple days of BIG LOVE!