Monday, January 31. I’m not particularly wild about Mondays, the month of January, or odd-numbered days. I much prefer Tuesdays & Fridays, June-November, and even numbers – like 26. But this Monday, January 31st is a different story altogether and a righteous cause for celebration. Today is Ted’s 4th birthday!
On January 31, 2007 when Ted was still living and working in Philadelphia, nearly a year-and-a-half before we met in Lansing, he was diagnosed with adult-onset type 1 diabetes. He’d been suffering from some unusual symptoms for several months beforehand and went in for a check-up to try to figure out what the deal was. His blood sugar was severely high and he was given strict orders to report to the hospital immediately. He was told he was diabetic and would be insulin-dependent for the rest of his life. From now on he would have to take shots or a use an insulin pump, count and measure all his foods, limit sugar and carbohydrates, and monitor his blood sugar several times a day. Essentially, everything changed. But they caught it just in time and told him he was lucky to be alive. Hence, a new birthday! I wish I had known him back then so I could have been there for him on that day and in the crazy first few months that followed. But I’m happy to be here for him now and for every one of his future birthdays!
To celebrate I splurged and bought a rockin’ card and some Southern Comfort and maraschino cherries for SoCo & Diet Coke cocktails. I also made him a special dinner of his most favorite food (ribs – it was my first time ever to make them and they turned out awesome! Fall off the bone delicious!), rented a movie he’s been wanting to see since it was released into theatres, and baked him a cool (sugar-free) cake. What a great reason (and way) to celebrate!
Romance was a’brewing at the Cincinnati Art Museum when I paid an impromptu leisurely visit yesterday afternoon. Ted is working a show load-in all weekend at CCM, and left to my own devices for the day, I took off for a stroll around the museum after hearing it was the last day of the Wedded Perfection special exhibit. Let this be a lesson: The very last day of a particularly popular exhibit, especially if it happens to fall on a Saturday afternoon, is not a recommended time to attend said exhibit. If it looks good (check!), you’ve been hearing about it for months (check!), and you know you want to see it (check!), get on the ball and go sometime, anytime, before the last day. The place was packed. We’re talking cars parked haphazardly everywhere. Complete insanity. Since the art museum is always free and the only fee you pay is a mere $4 for parking, it was definitely nothing to complain about. The facility is gorgeous too, located right in Edan Park and across from Mirror Lake with a brilliant view of all of Cincinnati. If you’re ever in Cincy, I’d say stop in just to walk the building and check out the fabulous interior and exterior architecture and décor, though I’d probably recommend actually checking out the art as well, since everything was very nifty and interesting.
The Wedded Perfection exhibit showcased American wedding gowns throughout history. Many were donated or on loan. There was a fair share of Christian Dior and Vera Wang gowns – many from the 2000’s-2010. There were older frocks from the late 1800’s-1950’s with luxurious silky fabrics, fantastic lace detailing, stunning cathedral veils, and gowns of all colors and necklines. On the wall’s surrounding the exhibit there were framed black and white photographs of modern brides getting ready for their weddings. I spotted a particularly snazzy strapless silk Vera Wang with a fit and flare cut and a feather skirt. One of the most unusual dresses was a gown constructed entirely of hundreds of Latex gloves. It wouldn’t exactly jump straight to “it was pretty” but it definitely didn’t look bad and it just goes to show that you really could make a wedding dress out of just about anything.
I also saw a veil cape very similar to one I fell in love with when I was looking at dresses and veils for our wedding. I never ended up seeing out the idea, but I still love the look, mostly for its elegance and originality.
As if drooling over gorgeous gowns weren’t enough excitement for one day, as soon as I stepped into the Wedded Perfection exhibit gallery I arrived just in time to witness a proposal and hear all the high-pitched squeals accompanying it. From what I heard and saw, the girl was there with a small group of her friends (who were obviously in on it) and her boyfriend was supposed to be at work. He surprised her by showing up out of the blue and proposing to her right in front of her favorite dress in the exhibit. Ted said it was lame and the pumpkin patch was a much better idea. The engagement was, of course, accompanied by hearty applause afterward. There was also a wedding reception going on that afternoon at the art museum. See what I mean – lots of romance a‘brewing. I’m not positive, but I think the exhibit might be a traveling one. If it’s coming to a city near you, I’d definitely sip a mimosa at brunch, gather up your girlfriends and give it a peek. Even after you’re married, it’s still hard to resist oogling pretty dresses.
I have officially reached that time in my life that I’ve secretly dreaded, just a twinge, for the past three years. That time in your early-to-mid 20’s where the immature pest, the prankster, the wild child, the studious geek, the dumb giggly flirt, the perfect princess, the clown, the sweetheart-to-everyone, the jerk, the extremely strange oddball, and the nice group of kids you hung out with all unite under one title – “adult.” The stereotypes fall away and all those people you knew throughout grade school, high school, and college are now grown ups. They graduate, move out, purchase real homes, buy appliances, adopt pets, get amazing internships, find good jobs, learn about financial responsibilities and savings accounts, travel the world, get engaged, do really cool things with the talents they’ve developed, and get married. It’s a little strange to see all these changes and advancements since you swear that person was just sucking the helium out of the balloons at prom, noshing on mall Chinese food at 5 a.m., and wearing a T-Rex Halloween costume in July on a dare like 5 minutes ago. But, hey, benefit of the doubt, right? Most of us grow up a little bit by age 24, and we are ready for some of those life changes – in fact, it’s pretty fun! We’re still kids at heart, just with homes and jobs and relationships. Those kind of changes I can handle.
Then it starts to get iffy. First one surprise. Cool! Then another. How exciting! An announcement here – yay! – and there – okay, that’s super awesome but this is starting to get weird. The light bulb goes on and you start to wonder. Suddenly that little thing you’ve known was slyly creeping closer and closer to your age group arrives right now and in full swing with no backsies. It’s officially baby season.
Every. single. person. I. have. ever. known. is having a baby.
Please feel free to remove your mind from the land of excitement, dread or whatever you may be feeling right now. No, we’re not having a baby. That’s everyone else’s job right now. We love our family of two just the way it is and don’t plan on expanding it.
It makes sense though, doesn’t it? We’re moving into the mid-20s where careers are getting good, and we’re more settled. We’ve traveled and had fun, we have homes, jobs, and someone special we love. The timing is just right for a lot of people. That doesn’t make it any less weird that everyone I know is old enough to reproduce and is choosing to do so. I’ve been genuinely happy and excited every single pregnancy I’ve heard about so far – because if you are ready and you want kids – that’s really neat and such a great joy. I love seeing my friends so happy and most of the kids are completely adorable. Still doesn’t make it any less weird. Sorry.
The next thing that inevitably comes up is gender and name. Everyone’s comments on Facebook read: “Do you know what you’re having?” or “What name have you picked out?” The trend is to want to know the gender asap, find out the gender, announce the gender to everyone, then announce the name you’ve chosen. It’s almost astonishing these days to hear of a couple who doesn’t know the name or gender in advance, or who chose not to share the name or gender ahead of time if they do know. I understand perfectly the reasoning behind every one of these decisions because, I can only imagine, it is very helpful to know the gender ahead in terms of purchasing the things you’ll need. But to me it lacks a certain element of surprise. By the time the baby’s born you, and every stranger down the street, know the gender, weight, nursery theme, and calls the kid by his/her name already. So when the baby finally comes – great! But you already knew everything anyway. I kind of like the way things were 15 years ago when all you knew was that a baby was coming and that was that. You had two names in mind, usually kept them to yourselves, bought gender-neutral clothing and room stuff, and everything was a surprise until d-day.
But since we’re on the subject, let’s talk names. What a huge responsibility! The kid is stuck with whatever name you choose for life, and as we all know, names go in and out of style each decade. And what’s more is that everyone likes different names. I think most of today’s trendy names are pretty lame. But plenty of other people must like them because they’re obviously popular for a reason. Emma is the new Jessica or Ashley. Aiden is the new Michael or John. Take a look at the top baby names from the past few years – it’s pretty interesting. I’m not really sure where I was going with this, but it was food for thought. Anyone else in the same boat where a big milestone’s been reached within your age group?
More and more recently I’ve considered the advantages to owning a GPS device in my vehicle, albeit usually when I’m lost, flustered, and have no idea where I am or where I’m supposed to be going, surrounded by a sea of inner city one-way streets and struggling to spot with my blind-as-a-bat vision an ill-placed behind an untrimmed tree, bent to beyond recognition, or, you know, altogether missing street sign. That’s when the “omgineedagpsrightnowagh!” instinct kicks in. It’ll tell me where to turn so I don’t have to guess. If I make a wrong turn and don’t realize it, the GPS will simply alert me to it and then automatically re-route me from my current positioning so I don’t have to find somewhere safe to pull over, dig out a map that is roughly the size of my Buick, and try to figure out what the hell I did wrong and how to right this wrong. The problem with Google Maps, I have learned, is that it just isn’t always that accurate, and that really isn’t cool when all you have is a specific printout and nothing more. I have definitely been the recipient of bogus directions before and I was not pleased.
On the preparedness scale, I’m up there around the 9.6 of 10 mark. I didn’t just print a map with directions to work and back home again. Oh, no. I printed 3 different sets of directions each way in case there’s smooth sailing, or accident/rush hour on the highways, or snow and ice on steep city streets. I also printed directions from Ted’s work to mine and back to his again – all stapled, organized and smartly labeled with a highlighter. I was indeed prepared, covering all my bases with a handful of options and alternate routes precisely so I could avoid getting lost, stuck, or delayed. I figured that with all the driving I’ll be doing downtown (and in some of the most seedy areas in Cincinnati, might I add), that my plethora of maps would be sufficient. Until, of course, I found myself tangled in a web of illegible street signs, streets that veer off into a 12-pronged fork of other streets, and street names that look and sound so similar (we’re talking one measly letter difference here folks) that you mistakenly turn there instead and find yourself trapped in an unending maze of one-way doom.
It took me all of five minutes out of the hour of lostness yesterday to enter panic mode and begin wondering why on Earth I thought I could navigate Cincinnati without a GPS. The rational side of me says that people survived for many, many years with the aide of simple maps instead of fancy talking GPS units. But were downtowns as sketchy and unmanageable back then as they are today? I doubt it. But I also doubt I can afford a GPS system with all its annual updates and maintenance anytime soon. The next best solution? Upon my arrival home I immediately logged onto Google Maps again, pleaded with it not to scam or plague me with ill-advised directions, and found a different way from CMC to CCM. It seems pretty tame and uncomplicated, much like the first set of directions, but I can assure you inner-city Cincy has some mean tricks up her sleeve. For now, my multiple-route, color-coded printouts will have to do until I’m better adjusted. As for the next big city we find ourselves permanently tied to, there will be a GPS in my car.
Today is most definitely 1/26/2011, and unlike that time a few weeks ago when I told our neighbor that my name was Lara Maiden Name (Umm, oops. So I forgot, okay?), I am quite confident that I will always remember that my name is now Lara Married Name. On this fine Wednesday, 1/26/2011, I finally (after a nearly 3.5 month absence due to marriage and relocation) re-entered the workforce. It’s a pretty basic position, but it’s income and it’s somewhere fun to start. I am, however, happy to be employed at a company that I’m confident I’ll like because it’s a fun place and boasts a few of the key criteria that I considered very important in my job search – involvement in Cincy’s arts, culture, and educational realm, the option for advancement, networking opportunities, and um, I sometimes get to read books on the job (yeessss!). There’s also some sweet perks included, like a free premium season membership for Ted & I and, apparently, the occasional free Graeter’s ice cream coupons (you know that perked my ears right up!). Since it was the stereotypical first day of anything, a majority of my time was spent touring and filling out a crazy pile of paperwork – every single page of which required me to sign my name and notate the date. Hence, I will never forget my name or this date ever again. It was kind of awesome this morning to carpool with Ted to work, drop him off at CCM, drive to my job for the day, and then drive back to CCM (after getting lost downtown for a full hour. FAIL.) and chill out at the Starbucks in his building reading a book and sipping a latte until his work day is over and we could leave work together. What an ideal system! And if I can avoid getting horribly lost in the future, I think I’ll like it.
Tonight we’re relaxing, watching terrible American Idol auditions, munching on pizza and trying to figure out what the heck I’ve been eating lately that is making me so sick at night that I wake up an hour and a half after I’ve gone to bed and then barf up my vitals (TMI? Sorry.) Our best guesses right now are the pie, milk, or strawberries – all of which I had both times. But, any which way, it sucks a lot and I’m ready for it to stop any. time. now., especially since I’m terrified to eat anything anymore. So that’s that. Have a happy Thursday.
Just in time to make me look like an utter ass in yesterday’s groan-fest post about how impossibly cold and dreary it is here this winter, Cincinnati decided to mysteriously warm up to the mid-30s today (which feels like a day at the beach compared to what we’ve had lately) and the sun darted out from hiding for a few brief and fleeting minutes this afternoon. Great timing Universe. But the sentiment is appreciated nonetheless. I knew you still had it in you, Cincy! My penance for doubting was having the hiccups four times today. I thought that was a little extreme, but the Cincinnati weather gods don’t mess around.
I’ll give you my Tuesday in a nutshell – smoked butt, dreamy hues, passports, and food. From the complete oddity of these mismatched descriptions, you can probably tell I am learning that the grown-up world is not without its hodgpodge moments, frivolity, and un-calculated randomness. I used to think that surely only teenagers and college students dwelt in a life of such random, scattered and opposing thoughts. Married adults were wise and competent. Furthermore, they had their lives “together” enough that their minds certainly weren’t being pulled in every such direction, from serious to silly and necessary to whimsical.
I retract these prior musings from my younger, more foolish days. If anything, as we age, our lives and thoughts get weirder and even more random because we’re responsible for our own happiness and well-being – meaning we have even more to think about if we want to be on top of our game! Back to the smoked butt, dreamy hues, passports and food with thoughts that range, respectively, from calculated to arbitrary to necessary to practical. I’ll explain.
My mom used to make this fantastic meal when I was growing up. It’s pretty basic but definitely a down-home comfort food. It consists of slabs of smoked Boston butt (which is essentially a juicy pork shoulder) dipped in mustard, and cooked cabbage, carrots and potatoes, all drizzled with butter and salt. Whenever mom made it, a smoked butt would appear in the fridge – just like that! Clearly this is something that is readily available at any grocery store, I assumed. Fast forward to now as I spend hours online searching for a butcher or meat specialty store in Cincinnati that carries a small smoked Boston butt to fulfill my Friday night dinner plans. Who knew finding one of these suckers would be so complicated!? I mean, don’t they just appear like my mom’s did? I’ve since learned that my grandma brought them down to Texas from Illinois, which is beside the point. Today, I finally found a butcher shop where I could special order a small boneless butt and have it smoked – and I did. HA! I win! All this for a Friday night dinner – that’s the calculating world of adulthood – you plan ahead.
Onto the arbitrary. Dreamy French-inspired nail polish colors – I can think of nothing more fanciful or unnecessary than this. I’m usually too lazy to bother with the upkeep of painting my nails, but every now and then a season’s most trendy colors catch my eye and I simply fall in love with them – enter these unusual, yet marvelously romantic colors from the spring 2011 fashion scene.
Color Club - Take Me To Your Chateau (very light blue)Color Club - Who Are You Wearing? (a creamy stone gray)Color Club - High Society (a beige taupe)
Unabashedly arbitrary, right? But they’re so unexpected, neutral and pretty! They’d be especially edgy when paired with darker colors like black or deep purple.
After contemplating something that took calculated planning ahead, and something entirely silly, like nail polish, I moved onto something totally necessary and ridiculously expensive – passports. My current passport is set to expire in 2016. I used it when I studied abroad in Stratford-Upon-Avon my junior year of college, and for the best-graduation-present-to-myself-ever: a fantastic Caribbean cruise to Jamaica, Grand Cayman, and Mexico with a group of friends. Now that I’ve entered the blissful world of married life and have embraced my new moniker, the U.S. Government wants me to do something excessively wasteful like send them a check for $110 to change the last name on my passport so we can go on our honeymoon. Are you serious!? Who has $110 just laying around that they want to fork over for someone to spend 5 minutes reprinting something as small as a single, simple passport? How can that possibly cost $110 in supplies and labor? I smell a ripoff. But, apparently, if I want to spy the Aurora Borealis from the peaceful, steaming waters of the mountain-backed Blue Lagoon I intend to soak in, or sprawl out in a river-traveling gondola whilst making googly eyes at my husband and stuffing myself silly with fettucini and gelato (and I do), I have to get an updated passport. It’s a money-suck necessity.
And finally, my thoughts turned to something perfectly practical: food. More specifically, dinner. Because when you no longer live with mommy and daddy, your hot, fresh meals do not simply materialize on the table when your tummy grumbles. Tonight I’m going for healthy and balanced but savory – grilled fish, steamed and seasoned vegetables, and whole wheat brown rice it is! And the strawberry rhubarb pie for dessert? Not so much healthy (though I did use a low-sugar recipe) but most definitely delicious! And those were my thoughts for the day. A mighty collage of this and that, but isn’t that just the way it is when you’re 19, or 27, or 45 or 78?
I don’t like complaining on my blog because I’m generally very happy and we have a lot of be thankful for. Therefore, I’m making a serious effort to keep the occasional grumblings to myself and out of cyberspace. But since today is the ever-notorious Monday and I feel like I haven’t seen the sun peek through a bleak, gray sky for at least 48-hours, I’m going to bend my own rules a little and say: This weather needs to end immediately. Every bone in my body is ice cold and at the risk of sounding like a brat, I’m over it. I think the worst part is knowing that the “end in sight” is a long ways off. There’s still nearly two more months of this miserable crap to put up with and I desperately miss sunlight. I’ve been cranky the past few days and I blame it almost entirely on the lack of Vitamin D because it is a serious mood killer. I’m not usually leaping for joy at the thought of a rainy, pastel-dreamworld spring, but this year I will be waiting impatiently with bells and whistles on for the first signs of a permanent defrost.
In the spirit of being thankful for and enjoying what I’ve got right now, I’m trying to think of all the things I love about this weather. My list is short, but its got to be better than just sitting inside and hating how cold it is. I love that I get plenty of snuggly-warm use out of the gorgeous green blanket my mom knitted for me for Christmas two years ago. I love warm drinks like hot tea, hot chocolate, and hot apple cider. I love the kind of snow that is so soft, light, and glittery that it absolutely glistens like diamonds under the house lights (if it must snow it might as well be the pretty glittery kind). I like bounding and stomping my snowboot footprints into a pure blanket of completely undisturbed snow. And I like being able to use the flame display on our electric fireplace heater because, let’s face it, an indoor fireplace fire when it isn’t even cold outside just doesn’t have the same effect.
I’m still considering crawling into the dryer for a quick spin on the keep-warm cycle, but at least I feel a little less dreary. I also spent most of last night wide awake because whatever combination of foods I downed this weekend rallied against me in a fit of protest and made me want to never eat again. I’m less nauseous now but still feeling pretty blah. With the exception of an electric blanket, I want nothing more than my husband to come home from work and to curl back up under the warm covers of our bed with Sancho, a giant hot calorie-laden Starbucks beverage, and seasons 1-7 of Gilmore Girls. That’s the kind of day it is today. The End.
You may now rejoice! We sure are! Ted is overjoyed that he can walk triumphantly into work tomorrow snickering slyly at all the CCM Bear’s fans. And for me it’ll be nice to have a team to root for in the Superbowl this year!
For our 3-month anniversary last night Ted’s parents took us to the ever-classy Montgomery Inn – Boathouse for delicious ribs and a stunning view of downtown Cincy & Newport on the river followed by a showing of Unstoppable at the theatre and Graeter’s Ice Cream. Cincinnati perfection! I also made a quadruple berry pie for the weekend that I consider to be one of the yummiest pies I’ve made so far. It has raspberries, blackberries, blueberries and strawberries and tastes heavenly. I’ll have to post the recipe for all of you looking for a ridiculously easy way to impress somebody special or, you know, for some waddle-inducing comfort food for yourself. Hope Monday doesn’t hit you too hard this week. I know I’m not looking forward to it, but we can all hope for the best!
Our electric bill came. You know it’s a downer of a post when it starts off with that little statement. Despite being gone 14 days for Christmas, keeping the house at a frigid 60 degrees (which really means 56-57), and lowering the water heater temperature by like 50 degrees, our bill was only a whopping $4 less than last month. All that freezing for nothing. Awesome. You just can’t win with Duke Energy. I am desperate for summer to come.
Two evenings ago my last outdoor kitty in Texas passed away. A quartet of orange tabbies named Precious, Few, Champion and Tiger (please ignore the terrible and random name choices from my childhood) appeared under our gazebo a few years after we moved into the Boerne house. Precious was Mamma cat and with her came 3 adorable male kittens. Who is heartless enough to turn away a family of hungry cats? Not I (um, or my mom and dad who made the money to pay for their cat food). So we fed them and they stayed. We spayed and neutered them, got them their shots, and gave them names and warm kennels with heating pads (I’m serious) to sleep in during the winters. Outdoor cats have a life expectancy of about 8 years I think. Tiger died first, followed by Precious and then Few. Champion – ever the fighter – held on for years after the others passed. He lived to be 15. He had a thyroid condition so he was all bones – you could feel every rib – and his little mew was hardly audible anymore. But the vet said he wasn’t in any pain and other than that, he was perfectly healthy. The night he died he got some cuddles from my Mamma and then a little gray and white kitten that’s been frequenting our house laid down in the kennel with him and nuzzled his head against Champion until he passed. If you know anything about me, you know I love cats more than most human beings. I am much more of a cat person than a people person. So I am thankful he wasn’t alone when he died and that he lived a long, loving life with plenty of company and lizards and frogs to torture and inhale. See, cats are much cooler than the humans they own.
The outdoor gang: Champion, Tiger, Precious & Few atop their heated kennel condo sometime in the 1990s. The indoor crew chowing on cat treats - Bella Blue, Rufus, Sancho, and Abby. I realize there are a lot of cat butts in this picture, but posing four hungry cats for a picture is impossible
The picture quality is shoddy at best, but it’s the only two pictures I have of all 8 of my loves. Yes, 8, at once. My crazy cat lady flag is waving loud and proud.
Also, today is our 3 month anniversary! I’m thankful to have such a great husband. Very unlike myself, he may be weird as all get-out sometimes, but he’s funny, kind, smart and handsome, and I’m honored to be his wife.
Mom & Dad-in-law are rolling into Cincy from Green Bay this weekend for a brief visit, so I’ll trade a coherent storyline post for a multi-topic rambling one while we prepare for their arrival.
Five Questions
1. Where did you meet your spouse? We met in August 2008 in Lansing, MI. He was the Production Manager at BoarsHead Theatre and I was hired as one of the Second Company interns that season. That week I packed up my belongings, left Texas, drove to Michigan, and moved into an intern house with three other people. We were all supposed to meet at the theatre for an orientation day – reviewing paperwork, signing the contract, staff introductions, an official tour, and a potluck BBQ kinda-thing. We were sitting at a table in the kitchen and in walked this dude with a shirt with some smart-ass phrase on it, he looked at the pile of four new female interns, made some sarcastic comment and walked out. What a charmer! At the BBQ I apparently politely declined a bratwurst he had grilled just for me (right.) and he still gives me crap about it to this day. Little did I know way back then that a few months before my arrival in Michigan he’d picked up my resume and headshot from the pile of potential intern applications, pointed to my picture and announced that he was going to marry this girl. Amazingly (hmmm), I was hired, and by some miracle we were actually compatible. I was also by far the least ridiculous, stupid, and mean of the interns that season, so we struck up a friendship. He’d teach me cool theatre things, we’d catch a drink after work and then he left BoarsHead to start grad school at MSU, leaving us free to date. So we did.
2. What is your favorite room in your house? It’s a toss-up between the kitchen and the bedroom. I’d probably pick the bedroom though because of the big cushy bed and all those windows – it’s just so pretty with all the natural sunlight filtering in. It’s also the warmest room in the house, which makes me all kinds of happy. The kitchen comes in a close second now that we have the gorgeous new furniture and all these really nice kitchen gadgets and appliances we received as wedding presents – makes cooking a luxury!
3. What are your favorite places in your city? Since we’ve only lived here a few months we’re still in the exploring stage, but the Mt. Adams area is really cool. It’s a giant hilltop that overlooks all of Cincy – lots of funky, fancy homes, neat restaurants, jazz bars and wine shops. The Edan Park and Mirror Lake areas are also really pretty. In terms of actual places? I’ll translate that to mean restaurants: Montgomery Inn, Mac’s, and Graeter’s. YUM.
4. What are five productive things you did this week? I cleaned the house top-to-bottom, planted the seeds for my hanging herb garden, helped Ted build our basement shelves, shoveled snow off the driveway twice, and secured a starter job. I totally did a ton of other productive things too, but we’ll stop at five.
5. How many hours of sleep do you need to function? Um, at least 6 or 7. Though I’ve been getting between 8 and 9 lately, which is great because it feels awesome and is good for you too.
