Who’s Designing Kate’s Dress??????

This morning as I was flipping channels, every news station was talking about the upcoming royal wedding. More specifically, they were all theorizing and addressing the “rumors” of exactly who was going to be designing Kate Middleton’s dress.

Seriously? This is news?

Maybe for some people it is, but to me it all just sounds like this:

Chelsea Clinton’s “Wedding of the Century”

Apparently Chelsea Clinton is getting married and it’s a big deal. To be honest, that’s about all I know because I only read the headline. Chelsea Clinton is so low on my radar – just a bit lower than Erin Moran and Mr. Belding – I couldn’t be bothered to read the article.

Yahoo News is calling her nuptials the “wedding of the century.”

Seriously. Please media, I beg of you, do not try to make Chelsea Clinton into our version of Princess Diana. Just don’t. Please.

And how cocky are we to call this event the wedding of the century? We’re only 10 years into it. How belittling is that to everyone else who comes along in the next 90 years? Our apologies, future people of note who get married. Sorry, Celebrities-of-2088. I’m sorry, Dude Who Invents Monkey-To-English Tranlsator Voice Boxes. I understand you’re all pretty important and prominent, but you seem to have forgotten that back around 2010, 2011, Chelsea Clinton got married.


She’s the daughter of one of our presidents.

Huh? You mean other presidents’ kids have gotten married, too?

Yea, but…well…this is happening now.

Shut My Mouth

Life is filled with all kinds of opportunities to learn and one thing I’m learning is to keep my mouth shut. Or, more specifically, when to keep my mouth shut.

As much as I think of myself as an easy-going and carefree guy, I almost hate to admit that I actually have a lot of routines and have become a creature of habit. You have to do something this way or that way. Well, you don’t have to do it a certain way but there are certainly better ways of doing something.

Or at least that’s the mindset I realize I have. Or had. Have. But I’m trying to shake it.

Marriage will definitely show you areas you need to work on and brings to light all of those rough edges that may need smoothed out a bit. Sarah, whether she wants to or not, has been teaching me that I don’t have all the answers or know all the “right” ways. I know. You’re probably as surprised as I am, because I pretty much thought I had everything figured out.

The biggest area I’ve been challenged on, oddly enough, is cooking. Sarah approaches the kitchen differently than I do and I can learn something from her outlook. Let’s say the subject is a pasta dish. I’ll go online or check one of my cookbooks and find out what I need. If it calls for a cup of sauce, I’ll measure out a cup. A half teaspoon of garlic warrants a half teaspoon. I follow the directions step-by-step and am usually rewarded with a tasty meal.

Sarah tackles it entirely differently. If Sarah wants to make that same pasta dish, she jumps in and just….starts to make it. Tackling it from a I-think-this-is-probably-what-goes-in point of view, mixed with a what-if-I-put-this-in approach straight from Ratatouille she goes to town. Measuring cups and measuring spoons are nowhere to be found.

I found myself warning Sarah about doing it “that way.” You can’t just throw things in there and hope it’s the right combination. That’s not how it’s done, shouldn’t be how it’s done, and is only a recipe for disaster.

And sometimes I was right. Sometimes there was too much garlic or things would burn. But being right never brought the satisfaction I would normally get from proving myself correct and I wasn’t sure why.

Some girl once told me that Elijah Wood (he played Frodo in the Lord of the Rings trilogy) played the little kid from E.T. I told her that no, that kid’s name is Henry Thomas. And she insisted it was Elijah Wood. We went back and forth and I finally had to email her a link to IMDb (Internet Movie Database) to prove I was right. And that felt good. I showed her.

But in the case of Sarah and her cooking, I never felt good or vindicated when it turned out I was correct in my warnings.

And I don’t think I should.

It shouldn’t be about who’s right or wrong (or more specifically if I’m right or wrong). I was thinking about this early this morning and realize now that every time I tell her that she’s doing it wrong, her method is incorrect, it sends the message I don’t trust you.

And the most ironic thing about it? I end up criticizing one of the things about her I love most: her zeal for life, the fact that she goes into it knowing she can do it the fact that she can’t never enters her mind — doubt never settles in long enough to tell her otherwise. I could use a little bit of that myself.

Last night Sarah wanted to make quesadillas. I’ve never made them myself but have been in the kitchen when my uncle John made them. The point is I’ve never made them myself. And yet for some reason when Sarah said she was going to try to cook them in the oven I still felt the need to point out they are cooked on the stove top in a griddle.

And then I stopped.

I wasn’t helping. I wasn’t doing any good. If anything, I was taking the joy of cooking out of it. And even though my tone was friendly what I was saying was wrong. She’s showing love by cooking my dinner and all the thanks I had to offer was to let her know she wasn’t doing it the right way?

I was instantly angry with myself. Who was I to say what’s right and what isn’t? How long ago was it when I was trying things for the first time and they didn’t always turn out like the picture on the box? It wasn’t so long ago that I should have forgotten about it already.

I decided to shut my mouth and let Sarah do her thing. And she rocked it out. I don’t even know how she ended up making them and I didn’t ask. I ate an entire plateful and even had some of hers that she couldn’t finish. She did an amazing job and I was again upset that I would ever think to tell her she was wrong.

I’d like to blame the fact that I was sick all weekend for my lack of tact and thought, but why make excuses? To paraphrase Steve Martin, sometimes I’m just a big dumb guy.

Finding “Lost”

Sarah and I have been watching the third season of “Lost” on DVD. I’ve seen it already; she hasn’t. It’s been fun watching her react to all of the twists and turns and remembering how I reacted to each revelation as it unfolded. (Unfortunately, she read the recent issue of Entertainment Weekly which featured “Lost” on the cover and, in the first 2 paragraphs, found out some surprises she didn’t yet know about. Whoops.)

The best thing about watching Sarah watch “Lost” is the vast array of comments — many times very contradictory — she yells at the TV. Observe:

“Save him!”
“Kill him!”
“What a b!”
“Go, Jin! Awesome kick!”
“Come on! You kill people for a living!”
“This show makes my head hurt.”
“I’m too tense. I need to stop.”
“Wanna watch another one?”
“He’s going to die in this one, isn’t he?”
“I always wanted to kick like that.”
“I don’t get why they don’t just get along with each other.”
“Kill him!!!!!!”

How I Spent My Week


Ok, yea, I’ve been noticeably absent for a bit (and if you’re reading this on MySpace, it’s not only because I have jumped ship and abandoned Tom for Facebook.

Sarah came to visit last week and to say I’ve been a little preoccupied would be an understatement. And because people want “the whole story”…here it is. A little condensed. But just a little.

Sarah got in last Wednesday afternoon. Her train ended up getting into town about an hour late and we crossed the street to go to A Loaf of Bread, a wonderful bakery here in town owned and operated by Sadie, Phil’s wife. It was a lot of fun to hang out with Phil and Sadie and to say Phil gave Sarah a welcome she won’t soon forget would be putting it lightly (it included Phil opening the door of the bakery and screaming to the people outside “Sarah’s here, everybody!!”).

That night Sarah and I drove out to Chester county to visit The Whip, an English pub out in the middle of the Pennsylvania countryside. The food was incredible and when we left that night there was a beautiful mist in every direction.

Thursday Sarah and I visited the gang at work at WJTL and lunched at the Lancaster Coffee Company. That night got together with Chuck & Ann, Lisa, Stacey, and Mindy for dinner and conversation. At one point during the evening, as we were all seated around the dinner table enjoying our grilled burgers and salmon, I commented that I felt like I was in a Woody Allen film. Everyone agreed. After dinner we enjoyed a rousing game of Celebrity.

Friday afternoon Sarah and I ran around downtown Lancaster, taking in the sites, the market, and the sun. It was a beautiful day and we enjoyed a great lunch at the Prince Street Cafe. That night we hung out with Tom & Mel. We had some great food, enjoyed a lot of heartfelt laughs, and watched “Freedom Writers” to wind up the night.

On Saturday Sarah and I went to the Park City Mall to kill time before heading up to Nissley Vineyards. We met Ethan & Aubrey and some friends of theirs as we settled in to enjoy a night of wine, cheese, and a live band playing both swing and latin music. It was a perfect night and Sarah and I found ourselves alone for a short bit. Ethan is a very talented photographer and I mentioned to Sarah he brought his camera along. I suggested we ask him if he would take some pictures of us while there was still sunlight. When we returned to where the group was picnicking, Ethan asked if we’d seen the inside of the winery. I told him no, and asked him if he would bring his camera along to take some photos of us.

The three of us headed inside the winery and I motioned to the racks of wine that stood before us. “Maybe we could stand in front of these for a good shot?” Sarah and I made our way further in and Sarah began to look around.

“How should we pose?” she asked, “What should we do?”

Sarah was facing away from me when I answered, “Why don’t you stand there and I’ll give you this?” Sarah turned back to me and saw I was holding a small box with a ring inside.

I asked Sarah if she would marry me and her face lit up. It was beautiful; SHE was beautiful. She answered “yes” and we hugged and kissed and hugged some more. The energy was amazing and all the while, Ethan continued to click away on his camera.

Hours after the events of that night Sarah was still beaming, still glowing. It was amazing and couldn’t have been any more perfect.

Yesterday we spent the day at HersheyPark and this afternoon Sarah got back on the train for the return ride home. I put a bunch of pictures from the week on my Facebook page. It was a great week; An amazing week. I’m in love with my best friend and I’m going to marry her.