Would you like internet in a box? Would you like internet with a fox? 

Would you like internet in a house? Would you like internet with a mouse?

Would you like internet here or there? Would you like internet everywhere?

Our new wireless started working today! I can blog on my bed, in the kitchen, on the couch, at Ryan's desk, at the table, on the patio, anywhere I want.

However, this doesn't mean that I'll blog more, I'll just be more comfortable.

read the warning label.

You know how there are some things that have the most ridiculous warnings written on their labels? Like "this curling iron will be very hot when heated" or "do not place screwdriver into electrical outlets"

Well, some things don't come with warning labels and maybe they should.

These shoes, for example, probably should have come with a warning label. They should have been attached with a little sticker that said "These shoes are not meant to be worn as rain boots or any type of running shoe."

Or this chair. Its label should have proclaimed, "this chair does not fold, deflate or collapse in any way. It may be difficult to store or travel."

So maybe the companies that made these products didn't feel that they had to warn buyers about those things. But it would have been helpful. 

It would have been helpful last night when we came out of the store with new patio chairs to find a drenching downpour where we had left a soft cloudy sky. And when Ryan ran to bring the car to the curb but found that then we had to try to pack our car with the overflowing gutter above us pouring on our backs and down our legs. 

And when we put all of our purchases in the car but realized the new patio chairs did not fit into the trunk or into the back seat. And when the rest of the people waiting under covering stopped to watch us try to squeeze the chairs into the car while being soaked by the rain. 

It would have been helpful to know these things when we finally decided to drive the car back to the parking lot and wait out the storm under the covered sidewalk. Because then we got impatient and ran across the parking lot, through the puddles and small lakes with the chairs on our backs to try a second time to fit them in the car. And finally, it would have been very helpful when we carefully maneuvered the chairs into the back seat, only barely avoiding a scratch or dent on the outside of our car or our neighbors, and when we ran back through the parking lot in the downpour towards our next errand.

So what have we learned though this experience? Always have a pair of sturdy, waterproof shoes in your purse? Or a poncho? Always consider the dimensions of your vehicle before purchasing anything? Move to the desert? 

I'm not sure what I learned, if anything. But I do know that every time I look at those silly patio chairs I'm going to remember running and sliding through a drenched parking lot thinking that sometimes people who think they're pretty smart can be pretty dumb.

If only we were still honeymooning in our darling beachfront cabin. 

No worries about job searching or interviews or law homework.

Just savoring each minute that marked our time together.

Making footprints and collecting colorful stones in the surf. 

Maybe when we get old we'll go back and sit together, simply watching the waves roll in.

grits.

Our new friends from Georgia made us grits last night. They couldn't believe that we hadn't ever tasted their southern goodness before. So they prepared us some right there on the spot.

We had the buttery, cheesy, bacon-filled version, which apparently is only slightly inferior to the buttery, cheesy, shrimp-covered version.

Not exactly what we expected, the grits are still a bit questionable for Ryan and I. We probably won't add them to our weekly grocery list, but who knows, we are going to be living down here for three years. Maybe they'll grow on us.

Grandmother's wisdom

Over the four years that I was in college, I was able to spend some extra time with my extended family. During this time, one of my wise grandmothers taught me a simple secret to happiness in marriage:

Don't ever ask your husband whether he likes or dislikes what you cook him. Instead, just ask him whether he would like you to make this meal again.

It seems like a simple rewording of the same question, but it makes all of the difference for a happy husband and a happy wife (or so my grandmother would argue). This way, the husband doesn't feel quite the same pressuring glare of a sweaty and tired out cook as he is eating his cold and squashed vegetable medley. He can simply say that he is very thankful for all the work that was put into this dish. On the other hand, he can give the same praise and adoration of a meal well presented. In theory.

Now with my mediocre cooking skills and the generous amount of time on my hands these days, this question seems to be a vital one at the dinner table. It is always asked in a quiet voice and with large eyes, hoping for the best. But, congratulations to myself, I have done quite well, and gotten votes of confidence from the law student as well. (thankfully he didn't notice the half cup of cooked rice that I spilt all over the floor today--gross. But I didn't put it back in, don't worry). "Definitely," he says, with his mouth full, "you should definitely make this again." 

I also feel that my cooking is wonderfully delicious, it would make my grandmother proud.

u-turn

I remember learning, I think, that U-turns are strictly illegal in Oregon. Now, it's true, I don't remember a whole lot of things that I learned at age 15, but this one I do. So when we moved here and watched car after car turning straight around in the middle of the road, we were a little surprised. We were even more surprised by the parkinglots and roads that were only accessible by u-turn. When I had to make my first dreaded turn around, I looked frantically around for police cars or flashing lights or bright red "do not enter" signs. 

But now, I do them on purpose, just for fun. Today I made about 8 u-turns, and it wasn't because I was lost. I even had an interview at a school the other day that, if I worked there, I would have to make one every day on the way to work. It definitely gave that job a few extra points on my scale. 

Thankfully no u-turns to the beach, though.

Top three reasons that I need to get a job soon:

3) This evening at dinner we discussed the best meals that we used to eat at the cafeteria when we were in college.

2) We've been going to the local furniture stores on the weekends to see what movies they're playing on their big screen displays.

1) We only have one roll of toilet paper left.

the true adventures of an unemployed newlywed.

Ryan often wonders what I do while he is away at class. I tell him about the piles of laundry I conquered, the resumes I handed out, and the lists of necessities that I purchased at Target. However, he usually looks at me and tilts his head as if he doesn't believe a word.

So today I decided I would surprise him. I shuffled through all of the recipes that I could find to get one that matched up with the ingredients that I actually had in my pantry/coat closet, and finally I found one: chocolate chip cookies, just like on the back of the chocolate chip bag.

However, I soon remembered that I don't have a mixer yet. I thought for a few minutes about whether mixing by hand was worth it or not. But then I looked at the chocolate chips and the picture on the recipe, and thought about warm, deliciousness (ok, i was making the cookies for me, not just for ryan). So I turned on my ipod and pulled out a bowl and spoon. 

Now the whole cooking thing isn't usually in my daily activities. I try to follow recipes, but they're so darn picky. I just throw everything in and hope for the best (It's a good thing I never took home ec in high school, because it probably would have ruined my gpa). How important is it really to mix this with this and that with that before putting them all together?

I mean, I was wearing my most adorable apron, so what could go wrong?

I soon remembered the reason they make an electric mixer, and the key word "softened" that is often placed before the word "butter" apparently is important. But not to worry, I have plenty of new wooden spoons, spatulas, and forks. 

And I made sure to eat enough dough to make up for all of the calories that I was using by hand mixing.

Surprisingly, my timing was for once ideal. Just as my hard working law student walked in the door, the timer beeped on the oven. For some reason, the cookies came out strangely square and flat, perhaps because I underestimated the size of the cookie sheet. But he didn't seem to mind. 

He ate them so fast that I couldn't even get a picture of his delighted face. I had to make him stop and pose.

He better not get too used to my scrumptious kitchen adventures though, because I think its all out of my system. Back to sandwiches.

the south.

I am slowly getting used to these southern accents. I can now understand who exactly y'all is referring to, but I'm not ever sure when its rude or polite to throw in a Yes, Ma'am. 

So don't worry, Devon, I'm not picking up any southern drawl or "chit-chattin with Miss so-and-so and y'all down over there."

Although, maybe it would help me find a job :)

My one problem is in the area of food. It seems like it should be so simple. But what exactly is chicken fried steak?

I think I'll just stick with roast and potatoes, I've finally got that one down. And cornbread with syrup.

don't make me get back in there.

Now this picture I love. Not just because it is of my new hubby, but because it encompasses all of our feelings of our entire week of driving across the country.

Here we are, almost to our goal, but yet, one more set of mountains in our way. The end is still not in sight. 

Thankfully for him (and me) we made it. From now on, we're flying.

printer!

My printer came! I accidently left it in Wisconsin last week, and it is the only way that I can get pictures off my camera. My wonderful new mother-in-law sent it right over, so now I finally can take real pictures. 

I'm afraid that I'll have to work through all of the pictures backwards.

So to start, our first look at our new beach.

It still looks so strange and different from what I'm used to without the rocks and clouds and trees. But the water is fabulous.

Ryan started his orientation today, which means I'm here all alone. Thankfully he left me the car and walked to school (which is only about a mile). But I would feel pretty guilty if I spent the day shopping since I haven't found a job yet. So that leaves me filling out applications and calling potentials. And maybe a short trip to target to pick up a few essentials (like tweezers: how is it that I have lost at least three pairs of them in the last eight months? I blame the Mexican government customs for one of those, but the other two were just me). 

We also have discovered some new neighbors: Canadian Geese. There's a flock of about twenty or so of them who just hang out in the parking lot, oh and also apparently they like to take the sidewalk because I stepped in a present of theirs yesterday. (I was not quite as fascinated with it as the little girls who live downstairs). I'm hoping they're going to be on their way south soon. 

home

Well, we've officially moved in. Today we performed our first Saturday morning cleaning (why did I have to get that horrible gene from my mother that does not allow me to rest on an early Saturday morning until the bathrooms are clean?). We also bought a mattress, and in the process met a fellow law student/mattress salesman who will be going to school with Ryan in a few weeks, and who, with his wife, lives just a few apartment buildings down from us. And finally, today, we broke our first dishes. Just a pair of second-hand champagne glasses, but cleaning up broken glass from the kitchen floor just seemed to make the place seem a little more homey. 

So now that we're all moved in, you are welcome to come and visit. :)

carpet, pure and simple.

Do you see it? Do you see it? Look closely. A little lower... there. It's carpet. Clean and clear. No boxes. No dirty clothes. No lonely socks. No empty garbage bags. And most of all, no suitcases. Its all I ever wanted.

We haven't gotten any real furniture or pulled out the new bedspread and fancy pillows, but finally, its clean.

We haven't quite got to the point of hanging up picture frames or clocks on the wall, but our little apartment is slowly starting to feel like home. Mostly with the help of my mother: she sent a beautiful orchid to my door. (I think its to make up for the orchid that she, uh, "forgot" about in her office a few years ago). But It's just lovely and works perfectly in my bare dining room. So one room at a time, we're getting used to this place. My favorite room is still my huge walk-in-closet, of course. But the dining room is a close second.

dolphins, jellyfish and fighter jets.

We are no longer on the Pacific. 

The smell of salt in the air, the seafood shacks, the sand between sidewalk squares. All of these almost make me feel at home. That is until we went all the way down to the beach and felt the burning sand and warm waves. I'm used to swimming in the frigid melted-ice-river that runs past our house and just barely putting my toes into the cold ocean water. But now we're able to dive into the refreshing Atlantic, only after wading through beach towels and huge umbrellas and life guards. None of which belong at my beloved nye beach.

After getting several tastes of the salty water and learning to ride in the big waves to the shore, Ryan and I saw splashing just a few hundred feet out in the water. After a little watching, we discovered that there was a pod of dolphins (dolphins come in pods, right?) They were jumping and splashing and blowing up into the air. At our first sight of live, wild dolphins, we weren't sure if we should get out of the water or swim out to meet them. But they made the decision and started swimming in closer so we could have a better look. 

Now I'm a terrible judge of distance, but these dolphins came in close, I could swear that I heard them clicking and chirping. Ryan even tried to use his valuable echo location abilities to bring them in closer. (it was unsuccessful). But however far they were we got a great view, I just wish I had stopped gawking and ran up to the beach to grab my camera. (This would be something my wise mother would have done).

A few minutes later, I did get out of the water after I saw a graceful blob of jelly floating around with his tentacles dancing. I'm hoping those aren't common around here.

The last proof that we were far away from the pacific was the loud fighter planes that flew by every few minutes, I'm assuming they're going to or from the naval base, but it was neat to see all the different shapes of jets and helicopters.

We're definitely going to take some more trips to the beach, especially before Ryan gets completely lost in the law books and only comes home from the library to eat my fabulous cooking. :)

On a side note: 

Ryan has discovered the unending joy and excitement of the midwestern church recipe book.

Its a beautiful picture.

sharing is caring.

As we move into our new apartment as newlyweds, Ryan and I are learning quite a lot about marriage. We're all the way across the country from our families and we are slowly getting settled into a new community. However, as we learn, we face challenges.

One of these challenges that we have discovered in the last few days is sharing. Not only sharing our time with each other, but now we share our space.

Such as closet space.

It can be difficult to find a way to integrate two very different types of wardrobes into one room's closet space. Especially when we have gone for so long without any closet space at all.

Thankfully, we've been able to figure things out.