Who cares if it's raining inside, really?!

Wow. Been a weird holiday, I must say. Sick as a dog for the days up to Christmas. Woke up the day after Xmas with two, not just one, but TWO ear infections. I am sure that I must be the only 27 year old alive that still gets freaking ear infections. It's really lame. Then Jeremy decides he's going to have the worst bout of heart burn in recorded history after STUFFING himself and having one, two, three, four too many Erdingers on Xmas, requiring us to go to the Good Sam ER for the day. Just needed to rule out heart ATTACK and confirm heart BURN. EKG straight. Mission accomplished. Phew. Finally home just before midnight on 12/26 with an Zantac OD'ing husbot, and a two ear-infectioned 27 year old wifey. No showers. No bra all day. Smelling like the lady who was puking in the ER room we shared. We were a hot mess. A hot, post-xmas mess.

Finally, sleep.

THEN we got up Monday, 12/27, for a "normal" day, fingers crossed. Planned on running errands. Spending some gift cards left over from the wedding. Maybe a nice lunch together. But no, the universe had other plans. Really fun ones. After showers and teeth brushing FINALLY (oh I forgot to mention that along with no bra or shower, there was also no teeth brushing on 12/26, too. Hot.). While pouring myself a nice bowl of Raisin Bran and cup of OJ to take my antibiotic with, I hear this 'tick, tick, tick, tick, tick" getting faster and louder downstairs outside of the kitchen. I heard water running upstairs and frantically screamed to Jeremy to stop running the bathroom sink immediately (even though teeth brushing was top of the importance list at that moment), because to my astonishment, the first floor ceiling was about to deluge like the desert rains in the Great Sahara. Then, there it went. Out of the seams of each ceiling tile, streams of water onto one of our favorite wedding gifts, the bamboo rug.

Leaving my Raisin Bran to get soggy like it does so quickly, I ran for towels and for Jeremy. What a mess. And the STENCH. Apparently the drain-o that J put down the sink and tub just before the downpour, not only stunk like all dead in hell, but the acid literally burned holes in the ancient lead pipes heading out of the bathroom (our house was built in the middle of the great depression...hard times = lead pipes).

At this point I just had to laugh. I mean, really.WHAT else could happen. WHAT else could life throw at us during this holiday.

Len the Plumber (AKA "Linda Palmer"... for you, Rachael hehe), stopped by to drill holes in our ceiling and make a huge mess. Chad, his name was. Great guy. We'll surely use him again. One of those salt of the earth types. He congratulated us on our recent marriage and boasted about his 14-year marriage, to a woman you could tell he loved as much that 12/27/10 as he did almost 15 years ago on the day he married her. Too cute. Anyway, he drilled and ripped and tore and glued new pipes and made loud noises that made Goku, our high-anxiety feline, hide for the rest of the day and into the following. Plumbing problem is fixed. Ceiling needs to be replaced, but pipes are A OK. Thanks, Chad.

After we pretty much flipped the F out about our indoor weather system that hit like a mock 5 hurricane, I thought about a woman I had seen at the ER the night before. The 'crash cart' and about 5 nurses and a few doctors went flying into her room after an alarm went off. She was a 'code red', meaning she was dying right then and there. She was maybe 70, if that. It was strange that I thought about that patient while my ceiling was filling with water, but I was glad I did. Life is too short. Who cares if it's raining inside, really!? It's why we have Linda Palmer...I mean Len the Plumber. And anyway, worse could happen --- J could have had a different kind of chest pain, and I could have way worse than two ear infections with medication to heal me. I hope that lady is stable now with family surrounding her recovery. Once again people, life is grand-- even with indoor rain forests, heartburn and ear infections.

Don't you forget it. Glass should always be half-full, ya'll.

P.S. Chad, the Plumber -- if you're reading this. Please come pick up your coat you left. It's sitting on our front porch & it's cold as balls out. You might need it. Thanks. - E & J.

Ever get that not so fresh feeling?

What a weekend. Jeremy finally took a few days off, and this work widow got some quality, holiday time in!!! We filled our weekend hours with great friends, good food, Manischewitz, Yankee Gift Exchange, tackiest Christmas lights this side of the Mississippi, and....a scrappy girl fight with Vagisil between me and the hostess/my Matron of Honor/BESTIE on her kitchen floor to end Saturday night's Hampden holiday party. It wouldn't have been right to close down the party without a girl fight in Hampden. Lets be honest.

Not familiar with Hampden? Here's a little background:
Hampden was originally settled as a residential community for workers at the mills that had sprung up along the Jones Falls; its first residents were in place well before the area was annexed to Baltimore City in 1889. Many of its residents came to the area from the hill country of Kentucky, West Virginia, and western Pennsylvania, due to the abundance of jobs the mills provided. This influx cemented the image of the neighborhood for the decades that followed as both primarily white and working-class.
Source: Wikipedia (where else?)

Jump to the Christmas Lights: 
Hampden's 34th Street celebrates the Christmas
holiday every year with the "Miracle on 34th Street" where home owners on both sides of the street decorate their houses with thousands of lights and Christmas decorations, including hubcap and record trees, giant robots (clearly Jeremy's fave), crab santa steering the crab reindeer draw sleigh, etc. All in true Bmore fashion! Visitors from all over the world are attracted by the over-the-topness to see the spectacle. It's really an amazing effort put forth by these locals (not to mention the BGE bills! Holy Hannah!!!).  I'm sure you have to sign some sort of agreement before settling on one of these 34th street row homes, pinky swearing over the Christmas spirit itself, that you'll participate each and every year. And when you're tired of it? You have to move. If you dropped the ball for even one year and didn't put up your 8, singing, life size, glowing reindeer with matching Santa and Elves on your roof, you'd probably be drawn and quartered. That's how serious this is taken. You need a break? You better get out of town, permanently, and quick!



Sara and Kyle's annual "White Trash Christmas Party" revolves around this tradition of lights. Each year we bundle up, fill up our 'to-go' hot spiked cider cups and make our way to 34th street as one big mob. We lose some on the way (like my husband who this year decided to go to the nearest bar for a Grande Mariner shot with his bromance, Zon. Figures.).  Some decide to stay back at the house as well (lazy bags 'o bones), and perhaps start rooting through the Yankee Christmas gifts, which is the second part of the "Tallski's" annual holiday get together -- a gift exchange. I call cheating!!!!!

This leads us back to the Vagisil. Not a favor that generally makes it's way to most parties (nor should it be used as a deep conditioning treatment). But when there are yankee gifts involved, anything goes. This year, for instance, I got homegrown, canned jalapenos (amazing!) and....a roll of toilet paper, for the aftermath :)

Left (Red Corner): Sara Russell, "MOH";
Right (Blue Corner): Emily Martin, Bride

Jump to the girl fight:
Having my face in the linoleum and feminine ointment dreaded through the back of my head was a new experience, not only for me, but all party-goers I'm pretty sure. Our husbots stood aside shaking their heads at each other, wondering why they even proposed in the first place. And what had they done wrong to deserve this? Listen mens...we all have choices...and you should consider yourselves LUCKY. After a few minutes of struggle, we gained control and/or got tired (the tube was empty anyway), and called it a truce. I'm pretty sure Sara won though. She's a strapping 5'10" -- she's got a full 8" on my punie self! See for yourself to the right -------->

Great party this year, guys. Always a success!  I leave you with one note of CAUTION, Russells: Linoleum floors may be slippery when covered in Vagisil.

Text/Quote of the evening:
Kyle Russell: Your dumb drunk wife left her phone on my dumb drunk wife's couch.
Jeremy Martin: Sounds about right. Be by later.

The Land of Pleasant Living

It's funny how things change and people change. About a year and a half ago, we were sitting with our dear friend Jason at a bar talking about life and what not. I said, "Lets up and move to Paris! Lets do it! Tomorrow! We'll pack tonight!" Jason was 100% with me. Ready to go. Try something new. Make a huge change. Jeremy on the other hand, was entirely against it. He seemed scared and hesitant, like I was about to purchase our tickets to Charles de Gaulle right that very instant! Jas and I continued to try and convince him, but to no avail.

Flash forward 18 months....

Last night at the Hamilton Tavern, we were chatting over homemade macaroni & cheese, and a few (maybe one too many) Fireside Winter Ales. Jeremy told me we should move. We should sell our NEW home, pack up, quit our jobs, and just....go. This time around having this de ja vu convo, I got scared and sad and had complete negative reaction to his spontaneity.

He wants to go to Woodstock, England, and open a crepe stand and sell screen printed tees with our crepes. Have a farm where we grow veggies for our crepes. And go to the little country-side pubs after the stand closes each day. Live the simple life. Sounds idyllic, if you ask me. Had this been proposed to me 6 months ago, I would be 100% on board. But for the first time, probably...ever, I feel settled. I love my job. I love my home & the entire community. We have a new nephew, Luke Marley, who is 1.5 weeks old. We have a beautiful god daughter, Charlie Marie, who is 6 months old, and one day, we'll have a Luke and Charlie of our very own. Basically to sum it up, I love my life here in Baltimore -- "the land of pleasant living." It really is just that to me, and not written on the Boh bottle for nothing!

Will be interesting to hear Jeremy's sober thoughts on his adamant plans last night when I get home after work today :) I'll bet he won't be so amped and will have come back down to earth, in present day form.

Damn, Fireside Winter Ales. They do it every time. A boy can dream I suppose....

Side note: Got my nails did yesterday. "Dear Santa" is the color. It's all the rage this holiday season. Get on it. :)

This is my Winter song to you..

It has been unseasonably cold here this December. Temperatures never leaving the 20's is pretty rare for Baltimore this time of year and don't even get me started on the wind factor... Sometimes we have 70-degree days in these months & I love it. This year though, the Winter coziness that Mother Nature has gifted us is happily welcomed, for.....

....we have a fire place! It's really the main reason we bought our bungalow last December. I have always dreamt of having my own fireplace with a warm hearth to snuggle up to with my kitties in lap and red wine in hand. My Dad, in Burningtown, NC, just outside of Asheville, has a massive fireplace AND a wood stove, to boot. That's just my own personal Wintry heaven down there. You've never experienced so much coze.

These below average temps have encouraged Jeremy and I to use our fireplace that much more. Oh, and the fact that we now have living room furniture (big step) to sit on and enjoy the radiant heat has really put us on a whoooole new level. Last year when we were new homeowners, we sat on upside down plastic Rubbermaid tubs to enjoy our fire. Much lower level of coze, you can imagine. Actually, we got engaged right there in front of our mantel (yes, on the plastic tubs) on Valentine's Day 2010 just before we built our VERY first fire (out of the scrap wood leftover from putting up crown molding)! It's by far the most monumental 4 square feet of our entire house!

Side note about our engagement: a dead, frozen bird fell down the chimney when we opened the flu just after i said 'yes', and it landed EXACTLY where Jeremy had placed the ring box for me to shockingly discover as I open the screen to the fireplace. Dead and/or frozen birds are now the mascot of our marriage, obviously. :)


Anyhoo...this fireplace is more than just a heat source and a cozy spot to be. It forces us to step away from the computers and the televisions and the iPhones (ok, fine, I still keep my iPhone with me. It's like an apendage and I need it for survival). We can sit and chat about this and that, and just simply enjoy each others company for the time it takes the fire to diminish and embers to cool. It's our safe place from the frozen tundra that seems to be slamming itself so hard against the front windows that the indoor blinds move a bit.

We can just chill...in that moment. Not worry about work or going to the Safeway for groceries or what tomorrow brings. Just....sit, with the occasional smooch and occasional conversation, but generally just silence. And I must say it's my favorite part of any given day (next to plopping in our new temperpedic bed at night!). The fire and the stillness it brings to our crazy days, is effing awesome.

With that, I'd like to leave you with my second favorite song at the moment, "The Winter Song" by Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson. It's actually the song playing now if you have your volume on (playlist below). Here's a link to it as well though.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67xr_KKPTHE

Is love alive, they ask? You bet your ass it is. It's alive, & it's coming right out of the tip of these little piggies warmin' up by the fire :)

All for now. -ERSM

Emily Rae Sturtevant Martin, here!

First blog entry. Pretty frightening.  I'll start with a tid bit about myself....

Originally from Athens, GA, and moved to Baltimore, MD at age 7, where my Mom remarried and I gained two brothers. Being the youngest of five gave me an interesting perspective & a loud mouth. Hence the purpose of this blog....it actually might save my husbands life by getting out my hysteria via the Internets instead of on him over dinner each night. Lets just say he's on the other end of the spectrum from me. Much quieter, more reserved. Larger grasp on reality, perhaps. But, as the great Paula Abdul taught me on the very first cassette tape I bought with my allowance I must have saved for 3 weeks straight in 4th grade, 'opposites attract.' It's true. I love him dearly, WHICH gets me to my purpose here on blogger.com. Truthfully, I'd really rather not clog up the already overcrowded blogosphere with my antics, but what a great space to have antics! So, why not?!

We just got married not even two months ago on October 23, 2010. Glorious day, might I add. 71 degrees in late October at the beach??? Yes and please and THANK YOU almighty wedding weather gods. Oh, his name is Jeremy by the way. My husbanatron that is. Important detail, as I continue writing.

Jeremy and I have dated for several years and are now taking our first steps into married life post wedding. I didn't think much would change after that fateful day in October  --- boy was I wrong. Our bond is stronger. Our love is thicker. Our home is homier (if that's a word??). It's like we took our life & relationship prior, and magnified all of the elements. What an amazing and exciting time this is, we're realizing. We recognize our first "married" pancakes. And our first "married" Sunday night beer at the Hamilton Tavern to kick off the week. And our first "married" Thanksgiving. I think I even recognized my first "married" shower after the wedding...weird, I know but this is how my mind works. It's just plain fun and definitely calls for celebration -- even mini, daily necessity ones, like showering.

Being married also brings on struggle and conflict at times. For instance, changing your name. BIG deal. VERY BIG DEAL. I didn't realize I would have such strong feelings about my maiden name, Clinton. I am planning on officially changing my name though as one of Jeremy's Christmas presents :). After much thought and deliberation, it's what I want ... to be a Martin and that much more connected to Jeremy. What makes it a bit easier is I also have two middle names, Rae and Sturtevant - both of which come from my mom. (She gits it from 'er maaama.) Sorry, sometimes I bust out in rap lyrics. Anyway, I'm holding on to both of those names for familial reasons. So, Emily Rae Sturtevant Martin it is!! Those who choose to hold on to their name after marriage - I'm totally with you. It's hard to let go. A name is much more than just some letters strewn together that live after your first name. It's very much your identity; who you are. So, POWER TO YOU, SISTER! May the maiden name live on!!! For me though, it's Martin :)

Obviously, marriage causes more struggles than that particular instance above, which again is why I'm here. To share my experiences, conflicts, amazements, joys, etc., in this new journey with my husbot. The hope being, I catch an eye or a share a moment, a similar situation. I can relate as a regular ol' gal, just living this sweet married life, perhaps just like you are. Life as we know it...for now...is truly amazing & worth sharing!!!!

Nice to meet you. Cheers & back later.
-ERSM