A thoughtful surprise.
Last night, Scott came home, we sat down on the couch together while talking to Emily in the next room, and then he says to me: "Gosh, every bookstore in the area is totally sold out of Sarah Palin's new book...."
I turned to him with surprise and said, "Of course."
Then he pulls out of his laptop bag a copy of "Going Rogue," saying: "Unless you pre-ordered it."
I squealed and squealed and squealed with excitement. I had no idea he was planning to get that for me. I didn't even realize how much getting a first edition copy meant to me.
The only time I've ever waited in line for the first release of something or gotten excited enough to go out at midnight to buy something was when I was 13 and my father took me to Best Buy the hour "Titanic" came out on video. We stood in line to get our hands on it, and they threw in a calendar from the movie that i treasured for the rest of the year.
And while I didn't have much time to read the book last night, I did take it with me into the bathtub and got through a quarter of it.
I remember when I was a news intern at CNN back in 2006. One of the producers I worked with who had taken me under her wing was pretty liberal, and there was some research project I was doing that required me to leaf through Bill Clinton's autobiography. Now, the newsroom at CNN was brimming-- and I mean TEEMING-- with political books. Most of the books were sent to us from the publisher as advanced copies in hopes of gaining some press, and others were references for one-on-one interviews with newsmakers, and others I remember literally running down to the bookstore in Union Station to get last minute, like Perez Musharraf's book before we interviewed President Karzai at the Willard Hotel. My point is, there was no shortage of books in this place.
The producer went into a special, locked office to retrieve Bill Clinton's book, then handed it to me with a stern look: "This is my own, personal copy, so don't let the other producers walk off with it."
I can relate to that possessiveness now, haha. It's just very cool for young women like me who share my philosophy to finally have role models like Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachmann. I could never get beyond surface-level admiration for the drive and ambition of someone like Hillary Clinton, or even Kay Bailey Hutchison and Condeleezza Rice. There's just something more there.
Anyway, I made chicken marsala over angel hair pasta last night for dinner (perhaps more aptly called 'chicken white zinfadel' as that was the only wine I had on hand that I was willing to cork open and cook with.) I got to use my garbage disposal a lot, and am simply amazed at the quietness of the thing. Even though I'm using temporary plywood counters, and I have to go grab plates and bowls from a bench in the dining room, there is a new joy in using the kitchen thanks to the beautiful sink and wonderful faucet that no longer drips.
Before Scott came home (he came home a bit later) I just enjoyed doing the homemaker thing. While I watched the evening news, I poured two wine glasses for us of the leftover white zinfadel and simmered a pan of cloves, cinnamon, and allspice on the stove to waft that autumny scent throughout the house. Scott's office is having a Thanksgiving lunch this Friday, and he asked me if I would send him to work that day with the Mexican cornbread that everyone seems to love. (Okay, not everybody-- he doesn't even like it, but he recognizes everyone else in creation DOES like it.)
Scott's family informed us Mark and Sarah will not be joining us this year for Christmas, which is a shame. Apparently they want to work on their house with the week of time Mark has off from work, the birth of their child cost much more than they expected, and they're skiddish about the swine flu threat if they travel.
Scott's deliberating whether or not we should therefore go to Ohio for his mother's family's Christmas on the 26th. Frankly, while it would be nice to see them, I'm skeptical if we have the money, or if we should spend it for airfare. I don't know how much/when I'm getting paid for the next few payrolls, we will have to buy tile and counters for the kitchen, and plus it's Christmas, so we need to be able to buy gifts for BOTH of our families. (Plus, I would much rather hunker down and take several vacation days to work on the kitchen over the holidays...) It's a shame we can't participate in that celebration each year, but it's not a simple drive in from Pittsburgh, or even Maryland for us like it is for everyone else.
But I guess that'll be his decision.
I turned to him with surprise and said, "Of course."
Then he pulls out of his laptop bag a copy of "Going Rogue," saying: "Unless you pre-ordered it."
I squealed and squealed and squealed with excitement. I had no idea he was planning to get that for me. I didn't even realize how much getting a first edition copy meant to me.
The only time I've ever waited in line for the first release of something or gotten excited enough to go out at midnight to buy something was when I was 13 and my father took me to Best Buy the hour "Titanic" came out on video. We stood in line to get our hands on it, and they threw in a calendar from the movie that i treasured for the rest of the year.
And while I didn't have much time to read the book last night, I did take it with me into the bathtub and got through a quarter of it.
I remember when I was a news intern at CNN back in 2006. One of the producers I worked with who had taken me under her wing was pretty liberal, and there was some research project I was doing that required me to leaf through Bill Clinton's autobiography. Now, the newsroom at CNN was brimming-- and I mean TEEMING-- with political books. Most of the books were sent to us from the publisher as advanced copies in hopes of gaining some press, and others were references for one-on-one interviews with newsmakers, and others I remember literally running down to the bookstore in Union Station to get last minute, like Perez Musharraf's book before we interviewed President Karzai at the Willard Hotel. My point is, there was no shortage of books in this place.
The producer went into a special, locked office to retrieve Bill Clinton's book, then handed it to me with a stern look: "This is my own, personal copy, so don't let the other producers walk off with it."
I can relate to that possessiveness now, haha. It's just very cool for young women like me who share my philosophy to finally have role models like Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachmann. I could never get beyond surface-level admiration for the drive and ambition of someone like Hillary Clinton, or even Kay Bailey Hutchison and Condeleezza Rice. There's just something more there.
Anyway, I made chicken marsala over angel hair pasta last night for dinner (perhaps more aptly called 'chicken white zinfadel' as that was the only wine I had on hand that I was willing to cork open and cook with.) I got to use my garbage disposal a lot, and am simply amazed at the quietness of the thing. Even though I'm using temporary plywood counters, and I have to go grab plates and bowls from a bench in the dining room, there is a new joy in using the kitchen thanks to the beautiful sink and wonderful faucet that no longer drips.
Before Scott came home (he came home a bit later) I just enjoyed doing the homemaker thing. While I watched the evening news, I poured two wine glasses for us of the leftover white zinfadel and simmered a pan of cloves, cinnamon, and allspice on the stove to waft that autumny scent throughout the house. Scott's office is having a Thanksgiving lunch this Friday, and he asked me if I would send him to work that day with the Mexican cornbread that everyone seems to love. (Okay, not everybody-- he doesn't even like it, but he recognizes everyone else in creation DOES like it.)
Scott's family informed us Mark and Sarah will not be joining us this year for Christmas, which is a shame. Apparently they want to work on their house with the week of time Mark has off from work, the birth of their child cost much more than they expected, and they're skiddish about the swine flu threat if they travel.
Scott's deliberating whether or not we should therefore go to Ohio for his mother's family's Christmas on the 26th. Frankly, while it would be nice to see them, I'm skeptical if we have the money, or if we should spend it for airfare. I don't know how much/when I'm getting paid for the next few payrolls, we will have to buy tile and counters for the kitchen, and plus it's Christmas, so we need to be able to buy gifts for BOTH of our families. (Plus, I would much rather hunker down and take several vacation days to work on the kitchen over the holidays...) It's a shame we can't participate in that celebration each year, but it's not a simple drive in from Pittsburgh, or even Maryland for us like it is for everyone else.
But I guess that'll be his decision.