I have a lifestyle twin. For realsies. Clayton, Bryson, and I took a spontaneous trip to the Shenandoah Valley a few weekends ago. We spent most of the day Saturday driving along the Skyline Drive and stopping to take pictures. We decided to hike one of the trails while on the drive. When we were packing up what we wanted to take on the hike, I realized I couldn’t find my camera case. We’d been driving, jumping out, taking pictures, and jumping back …

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I should not be allowed in the kitchen if I am not making or serving coffee. It has to be some sort of civil code that once you fail miserably at something after a certain number of attempts, you are legally required to abandon the activity. It’s true with things like weapon carrying or child rearing — if you suck at it, they don’t let you do it anymore. Why is this not the case with cooking? I. Suck. At. …

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This whole experience of moving has come with a seemingly endless well of firsts. And I’m talking in just the last three hours there has been a growing list. Like right now, it’s almost 1AM and I’m just now using the office in our “new” house specifically for writing. It’s intended purpose from the start. Feels pretty good. It might feel better if the sudden kick into the blogosphere wasn’t the result of “To Catch a Predator”-induced insomnia. Seriously, why …

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I haven’t been very disciplined in writing. Not because life isn’t eternally entertaining, but because these days it is more Lifetime movie than ABC Family. My attitude lately has far from represented the lighthearted sarcastic banter I’d like you to think of concerning my literary prowess. I refuse to make you suffer through my whining. So my husband gets to. Basically, adjusting is hard. And I thought I’d be much better at it. The idea that this adjustment doesn’t have …

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Ok, I’ll admit it. I’ve been faking it. A girl from the South with Cuban roots is supposed to look a certain way, and, frankly, my maternal genes have been sucking the Latina (read: melanin) right out of my skin. I could handle the pastiness through the snow-filled winter, but spring has already come and gone and it’s straight up summer. Mama needs some color. Considering the fact that I now believe everything Prevention magazine says, I’m deathly afraid of the sun. …

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About two weeks ago, on a Friday night, Clayton and I were spending the evening lazying it up on the couch. Apparently, Friday evenings can put some little creatures hard at work, and one of those happened to catch my eye as it scurried from under the bathroom door, around the corner of the wall to the kitchen, and right up under the stove. Yes. I saw it with my very own eyes — the fuzzy grey fur, the long, …

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I know, I know. For a “writer,” I’m doing a pretty lousy job keeping up with this site. But you know how determined I am? I’m writing right now, right in the middle of my beloved Intervention, even though it’s clear that Richard the crack addict needs my full attention and support.
It’s been a busy few weeks. Clayton’s on-call schedule has felt a bit like being hazed for a fraternity. Except that instead of graduating to kegs and blondes, Clayton’s …

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It’s been an adventurous weekend. There have been two never-tried-before experiences, and it’s only Sunday morning.
Yesterday marked the first day of the rest of Bryson’s life. It was our first dog training class, and I think there is a glimmer of hope that we won’t have to scrounge up the receipt from over a year ago and plop him on the counter at the Humane Society and ask for our money back. This particular trainer was recommended by several different people, …

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I’m wondering when it will get easier. When will hearing my grandmother’s voice on the phone be comforting and not condemning? When will saying goodbye to my parents at the airport be met with appreciation for the visit and not guilt and hollowness for the impending months of separation? I am so grateful for the life that we are carving out in this new city, and I really am a sucker for adventure. But my home, ever since I understood …

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Yesterday I had the distinct privilege of attending a HIPPA conference that outlined the changes to HIPPA guidelines that occurred after the stimulus package. It’s funny that you could maybe mistake that for “stimulating.” Not so much. Unless you consider a seven-hour lecture by a self-promoting, government hating, former army colonel stimulating. Personally, I’d rather walk the Virginia Beach Boardwalk in the honeymoon-only, of-the-string variety Victoria’s Secret black bikini collecting dust mites at the bottom of my underwear drawer. What pushed …

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