South Bend Celebration

Last night was my final exam for my spring class. I won't go into too much detail but I struggled with a page and a half question that began about WWII planes and their wing design and ended with sampling dead flies from a 1940s restaurant without air-conditioning. It was time for a well-earned margarita.

George picked me up and we went to a Mexican restaurant that was originally a house. We sat upstairs in the bar, choosing a booth with a majestic view of the parking lot. Conversation centered--as it has for the last 9 months--around the wedding (and when the waitress was ever going to bring George his requested salted glass.) All in all, a regular no-story-here evening.

Suddenly George looked down at the parking lot and said something like "When did the cops get here?" Directly below us were a parked mini van and a car. Outside of the cars were 2 women and a man. And surrounding the cars and people were four squad cars and 5 cops. The women and man didn't appear to be shouting or fighting but police officers separated them and questioned them individually. I noticed in the minivan that there was a child sitting in the front seat.

Our waitress walked by and made a comment about there never being a dull moment at the restaurant. A patron asked what was going on and the waitress said that the people were doing drugs in their cars--WITH THE CHILD--and someone called the police. Whether or not that's true, I don't know. No one seemed to be mad or manic or even nervous. After a few minutes the police drove away and the people got in their cars and drove away and our night returned to normal. Except that George and I were now comparing the scene to HBO's The Wire and became obsessed with remembering every character on the show. Proposition Joe?? Omar?? Dukie?? I miss you all.

The story is not over!

The universe has a way of correcting itself. For that potential negative excitement we were rewarded with positivity. We walked out of the restaurant and to the parking lot when a teacup chihuahua came running at us.

Nuzzling our legs and wagging it's tail, the little puppy couldn't seem to get enough of us. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. (Perspective may be altered by the 2 margaritas I had) The chihuahua was being "walked" by a HUGE man, who told us the dog was a "people person." All 3.8lbs. I asked the man what the dog's name was.

Mrs. Doubtfire.

"C'mon Mrs. Doubtfire. Leave them alone Mrs. Doubtfire."

And all was right in the world.

100

If someone told me they'd give me 100 sandwiches, I'd probably think "I'm drinking spinach juice, so a sandwich sounds good this morning. But 100? That's insane!"

If someone gave me 100 coupons to Trader Joe's I'd probably think "Pumpkin whoopie pies, here I come! But how could I ever use 100 coupons?"

If someone said "In 100 days you need to move out of your house," I'd think "No sweat. What should I do with the other 82 days?"

But this morning a website told me that my wedding is in 100 days. And I'm losing my spinach juice.

Marriage Retreat

Yesterday George and I spent 12 hours at Notre Dame, learning what it's going to be like when we're married. We both went into it with an open mind and ready to--quite honestly--out-couple everyone there. We were going to communicate circles around everyone. "Eat our compromising dust!" The day went like this:

8:30am: Checked in. And cut a check. Learning how to be married is not free.

8:31am: Looked around the room of couples. Figured out we had to be the most "seasoned" couple in the room. Average age--24.  We were also the only couple that did at some point in the day say "We're Domers."

8:35am: Got one of the 4 bagels that were left. :(

8:40am: Meet our 1st friends of the day. They were seniors at Notre Dame, very nice, very "the world is full of options," and best of all--the bride-to-be was from Hastings, Nebraska! What are the odds?

9:00am: Retreat got started with introductions and ice breakers. We wowed our small group with our how-we-met story. We met our 2nd and 3rd friends of the day and realize they must have purposely put us all together, as the "senior" couples.

9:45am: Time to communicate one-on-one with George. Luckily George and I love to communicate and had already discussed most of the topics, so we hit the high points and then fought about who loved each other more.

We listened and then communicated the rest of the morning and then went to South Dining Hall for lunch. I've never seen a more outlandish spread of food. All I could think about, walking through the no-rhyme-or-reason setup, was how much food they must donate. (I hope they donate the leftovers and don't throw it away. Yikes)

12:55pm: Bolted to the on-campus Starbucks for an afternoon jolt before getting started listening again.

2:00pm: Watched a how not to communicate video, full of Everyone Loves Raymond clips. Actually laughed.

I have to be honest: at some point, it all just became listen, communicate, listen, communicate. Which was good, because we talked about great stuff. But by the end, we both pretty sore from sitting all day and rehashing conversations we've had before. We walked out at 8:30pm with a certificate and a high-five.

High fives...our favorite form of communication.