Monchichi!

Kristen and I have been told by several different people, and on many different occassions that we are looking more and more like each other (No, this is not a situation similar to SWF).  We all know that I started out with some long curly hair, but really I had wanted to cut it for a very long time.  It was one of those things that other people pressured me about.  "Don't cut off that beautiful hair!"  Everyone seemed to have the same opinion until I met my wife.  She and I had similar thoughts on the issue, so before I knew it I was sporting a faux hawk similar to the one that she had worn for so many years.  Perhaps some people thought that was a little odd, but we thought it was cute to have similar styles, and we both thought that it suited me just fine.

Last night Kristen and I decided to buzz cut my hair.  It was no more than a minute or two and...voila!  So now my hair is officially shorter than Kristen's.  We laughed heartily as the clippers moved across my head and then we both had to take showers because of the little clippings stuck all over us.  We got ready for bed and then I noticed that Kristen was smirking at me.  "What?"  I wondered what she was thinking.

"Do you remember those little fuzzy-headed dolls from when we were kids?"

Instantly I knew what she was talking about.  "Monchichis!"

We both started laughing so hard.  I knew that she was insinuating that I looked like one.  Well, at least she reassured me that she thinks they are so cute!

I found this picture this morning on the web and I thought that I should share it with all of my loyal fans out there.  Below is a photo of me and my blushing bride...complete with crewcut and faux hawk.

What a Relief!

Oh my god, I am so relieved!  After spending Friday night in the hospital...my first hospital stay in adulthood...I was finally checked and cleared for any abnormalities in my heart.  Seriously, thank god.

I can't believe that I lived for years worried about this problem and I know that others are living in fear, too.  My hope today is that someone else out there may read this blog and go and seek the answers that they are entitled to.  I know that for me, I finally got to a point where I just had to have an answer, even if the news was very grim.  I do believe that not knowing is the worst part.  How many days did I live filled with unnecessary stress and fear?  I know that I have issues with anxiety, but I can tell all of you that I was truly scared of dropping dead.  Really, so sad.

I think everyone knows how much I love Kristen, but really I feel like she has saved my life.  Because of her understanding and love I was brave enough to finally speak up and get some help.  When my mother asked me why I had never said anything about the pain I was having, I actually told her that I didn't care about my life so much before Kristen.  But now that I have found her, I want to spend every moment loving her the way that she deserves to be loved.  I feel brand new.  I feel like I have been given another chance to live my life to the fullest with someone by my side who wants the same things and is motivated to follow their heart as well.  I feel like we can do anything!  I know we can.

So this blog is written today for everyone out there who has a worry and needs to get help.  It doesn't have to be related to chest pain or even any medical problem.  Maybe you just need an answer to something nagging at your consciousness.  I hope that you may find the courage to step forward and find your answer.  I hope that you may have that special person in your life that motivates you to do the difficult things that make a difference.

Have a Heart.

It has been several years, maybe as many as seven or eight, that I have had pain in my chest / shoulder / back.  When I was in my late twenties I couldn't imagine having something wrong with my heart.  It just didn't seem possible.  I was always very active, worked out at the gym or did karate almost every single day, so I didn't understand how I could possibly be having chest pain.  At first I simply ignored it, never said a word about it to anyone.  When the tiny, sharp pains would shoot through my left shoulder I would just try to sit still and breathe very lightly.  Sometimes they would last more than a few minutes, and there were times that I was really nervous. 

Over the years I have put on weight and then took it off again, but always worked out consistently.  I have had my blood pressure checked and it is always on the low side, never high.  My cholesterol levels have been on the borderline of being an issue, but I have always taken consideration to keep them under control. 

So for the past few weeks these pains in my chest have been very much constant, mostly remaining a dull ache, of which I am always aware, but sometimes really giving me trouble.  At night I sometimes have to lie on my right side and put my left arm up over my head to find any relief.  I breathe very carefully and hope than the sharp pains will subside.  Kristen has not known any of this.

Finally, on Wednesday night I confessed to what has been going on. 

And so yesterday began the journey into figuring out what is wrong.  We started out at urgent care and ended up in the ER...two electrocardiograms, one chest x-ray, but still no answer.  Now that I have told someone about this problem, I just want to have an answer.  I can't believe that I have worried about this for years.  I have a lot of variables on my side...age, relatively good health, I don't smoke, but who knows how this will all turn out.

Write On, Right On!

In addition to working on several drawings lately and a couple of canvases, I have also been doing some writing.  I did, afterall, go to college to do just that, but it has become one of those things that I have a lot of good intentions about, but not a whole lot of follow through.  In the past I have written many, many short stories and on occasion kept a pretty honest journal, but what I am writing now goes far beyond any of my other projects.

I have decided to write about my childhood, all of those things...good or bad, that have shaped the person that I am today.  I don't often share my work with anyone until it is completed.  I never really painted in front of another person until I met Kristen, and similarly, only Kristen has read what I have so far.

I wasn't planning to blog about this journey, but I feel as though this is truly what is current in my life, so now you know!

The Therapeutic Brush

For as long as I can remember my artwork has been a way for me to express my innermost feelings without ever speaking a word.  Some of the earlieast photos of me capture a toddler with a pad of paper and crayons.  Growing up, my parents often reminded me how quiet I was, but I never really thought they cared about what I had to say.  When I was very little I was painfully shy and so being quiet was the norm, and then I remained quite silent throughout my teenage years.  I always felt disconnected in some ways to the hustle and bustle that many people live every day, but my energy and spark was still alive; it was just focused internally.  I have always been able to lose myself in my own head, whether imagining vibrant colors streaming together or listening to my own music that only I can hear.  I am quiet, but I am aware.

The artwork that I am working on now is very close to my heart.  Some of it has been rattling around in my head for years, tumbling like damp clothes in a dryer.  I have kept it there, safely on the low-heat cycle, waiting for a time when I would be ready to wear it.  I think that time is coming up fast.  My sketch book has recently been updated.  I have several canvases primed.

As much as would like to have the world love my artwork, I know that I paint for myself first.  I think that as an artist, I must not ever be stagnant; change is the only real constant.  What I painted yesterday, what I paint today, what I paint tomorrow...I will never paint these things again.  It happens only once.  That is what makes it art.  That is what makes it personal.  That is what makes it mine.  That is what makes it MAHTOH.

Frustrated!!!

When I read blogs it is for entertainment...maybe sometimes a way of keeping up with a friend's happenenings, but it is not often a way of really connecting with people.  I wonder in anyone writes a blog hoping to really connect.

When I sat down at the computer this morning, the first thing I thought about writing was not a funny anecdote, and certainly not something for my fellow blogger's entertainment.  I thought about writing something honest. 

As of late, I have been dealing with issues from my childhood...quite frankly, confronting some of those demons that many of us have, and also those that are specific to my own upbringing.  Kristen has been an absolute saint!  She has listened to me open up, held me when I cried, and supported my decisions every step of the way.  As I travel along this journey, I find myself facing a lot of pent up anger.  I am truly having feelings that I have never had before.  Initially I thought that because of my love for Kristen, any and all feelings I am capable of were forced to come to the surface...that I could not love with all of my heart if I was shutting off part of my heart.  And this still makes sense...but...I am so frustrated!  The anger that I have held inside for so long in now coming out sideways.  I am not ashamed to say that I need to figure this out...I really want to talk to a professional.  Any suggestions? 

It Could Have Been Worse

   

Obviously, no one likes to get in a car crash, but it is always good to keep things in perspective.  On Friday night Kristen and I had a little fender bender, and although we are both fine, it still makes me feel upset that it even happened.  I thought that this picture was a good way for me to smile about what happened.  They are called an accident for a reason, right?

I can only hope that this is the last accident I will ever be involved in.  Drive safe, my friends!

Cat Burglar In the Making!

The other night upon arriving home, we realized that we had unfortunately locked ourselves out...no house keys on the set of car keys that we happened to grab.  Normally I have my keychain on me even when I am not driving, but when Kristen asked, I knew immediately that we were in trouble. 

After scouting around in the dark, checking both doors just to be sure, and then surveying each and every window, we realized that only our bedroom window on the second floor was possibly open and we didn't have a ladder high enough, or sturdy enough, to make a go of it.  Initially I had mentioned trying to climb through the first floor bathroom window, but Kristen didn't think I could quite fit, so we scratched that.  Then, after seeing no other options, I decided to give it a go.  I grabbed the ladder that we had near the garage, climbed up to the top step, pried off the screen with a key (how ironic is that?) and tried the window.  It was OPEN.  I couldn't believe it!  I took off my sweatshirt and my sweater and stood perched on the ladder in a tight-fitting t-shirt and jeans.  "Please be careful," I was told from the ground below.

I first tried to get my legs in, thinking that it would be easier to scrape through and land on my feet, but it was nearly impossible to get my second leg in the window without a disasterous effect, so I opted for the head-first position.  I slid through easily, suddenly feeling quite good about all of those workouts at the gym, and I found myself balancing with one hand on the back of the toilet, the other on the vanity, and my legs still out the window.  Kristen and I were both laughing at this point and I yelled to her, "Aren't you going to take a picture?"  She tried, but could not get the flash to work on her phone, so we have no official documentation of the event.  After waiting for a minute or so for her to try to get the picture I told her I was going for it, and I managed to get my right leg through the opening and onto the floor without losing my balance.  I quickly leaned a bit further and got my left foot down as well.

I walked through the kitchen and opened the front door, feeling quite proud of myself.  I think Kristen was impressed, but I wanted her to admit that I was in fact thin enough to fit through that little window!  I told her it was just my ninja skills finally paying off!



Just Chillin'

So this morning I was thinking that I should blog again and the only thing that I could focus on was the fact that I am freezing.  Since we got back from our trip Kristen and I have been waiting to have propane delivered and so the past few days have consisted of a flurry of space heaters shuffled from room to room.  Today we should have heat and it really couldn't be coming at a better time...my toes are freezing, my fingers are numb, and I have just started sneezing as well.

YES

This whole ordeal got me thinking about the Renaissance.  I have always thought that it would have been so amazing to have lived through this richly diverse time in human culture.  The humanist movement began, music was changing, science was starting to really challenge common thought, and of course, art was flourishing. 

But this morning, suddenly, all I could think about were those drafty castles!  How did these people survive without modern technology?  I can only imagine how I would have reacted to waking up morning after morning to a cold chamber since the fire had burned out four hours earlier.  This little princess would not have gotten out of bed.  Regardless of the fine artwork to be seen, or the fantastic literature to be read, I think I would have slept through it all.

I have been cold for three days now and I can barely force myself to get out from under the covers to get into the shower or the hot tub.  Boy am I spoiled!

Wedding Whirlwind

So, I decided to blog this morning and I was so surprised to see that it has been since July that I have managed to write.  Shame on me!  Anyway, I have determined that it must be the planning of the wedding that got in the way of my morning blog...or painting...or working out...or something.  At any rate, I thought I should let everyone know (all four or five of you that actually read this) that Kristen and I had an absolutely wonderful trip.

We started out in San Francisco and although there was so much to do and see here, we were both so happy to just be on our own, we really spent most of our time driving around and checking things out via the jeep we rented.  We saw Castro, Lombard Street, Alcatraz, and of course lots of trolley cars.  Although we avoided most of the tourist attractions, we did walk the Golden Gate Bridge, which is really impressive.  I read that there are over 80,000 miles of wire in just the two main cables that support the bridge, and that it took over six months to spin them!  CRAZY!  Each tower has over 600,000 rivets.

For those of you who have not visited Yosemite, I highly recommend getting there.  I have been blessed to have traveled as much as I have, but honestly, there have been few places that I have seen that could compare to such splendor.  Beautiful skies, rugged moutains and cliffs, enormous trees, and soft meadows all come together in one harmonious picture.  Simply stunning.  I told Kristen that only a backdrop so spectacular could compare to the feelings I have for her.

We finished up our trip in Guerneville, a small city that we were told is the gayest around (unknown to us before arriving).  We took small day trips from here, exploring the coast and traveling into Napa Valley.  Just to our west was a very small coastal town called Jenner, and here there were the most amazing rock formations sticking out of the Pacific.  Both Kristen and I were amazed that we had never heard of this place before, or seen pictures.  Breathtaking.  In Napa we has some terrific wine, needless to say I'm sure, but as you may have seen on Facebook, we found some scrumptious cupcakes there.  Sift is the name of the bakery and snickerdoodle was our favorite.  We drove all the way back to Napa (over an hour on winding roads) to get a second one.  Right on Main Street in Guerneville we had a couple of fun nights at the Rainbow Cattle Co, a gay bar with lots of very nice people.

All in all, this was a superb trip.  The the sights were amazing, the weather was uncommonly warm (in the 90's almost every day), and I got to commit my life to my beautiful wife.  Not bad. 

Escape!

Hey folks!  I know you have all been holding your breath, waiting for my next blog...so I am here to relieve you...go ahead...exhale.  Probably everyone is wondering how the in-law visit went, but I shall not bore you with any details regarding that.  I have another story for you that is far more entertaining.

So, Kristen and I are really focused on our upcoming wedding ceremony in October, and in anticipation of that, we have both been working out.  I have been at the gym for about a total of 10 hours in the past four days, and it feels great to be running and lifting again.

This morning I started my workout with weights, first doing a bunch of leg exercises, then I moved on to shoulders and triceps.  After lifting, I used one of the elliptical machines for thirty minutes before jumping on the treadmill.  I have been trying to mix things up for my cardio, so I won't get too bored with the routine. 

So I ended up in between two other women in the long line of treadmills.  On my left there was an older woman, probably close to eighty, and she was strolling along somewhat leisurely (not that I thought she should be running, of course).  And on my right, a woman of perhaps thirty or so.  She was also walking, but much quicker.  In fact, I took note of her pace and couldn't quite keep up with her long stride.

While I'm at the gym I usually have tunnel vision.  I don't make much eye contact with other people and I only talk to someone if they approach me to start a conversation.  I feel like my focus should be on me and only me, and so I just keep my eyes straight ahead.  I was approaching the distance of three-quarters of a mile, still just listening to my iphone and occasionally answering a text from Kristen when I felt the younger woman poke me in the arm.  I glanced her way immediately, but she was already turning her head back to the magazine in front of her.  I took out my ear buds and she was already apologizing.  "Sorry, I'm sorry...," her voice trailed off.  I started to ask her if she needed something, but she cut me off.  "I......just......I don't know why I touched you.  I'm sorry."

So I turned back to the front, trying to focus on one of the many television screens that were hanging in front of me.  But all I could think of was getting away from this woman.  What the hell?  She had only touched my arm, but it was just such a weird thing to do.  I didn't want to be too obvious, so I finished up my first mile and moved on to the recumbent bike.

Brace Yourself!

Okay, so everyone knows that I have braces.  I haven't had them for very long...applied March 1st of this year to be exact, so I still have a substantial amount of torture to endure. 

I went to the orthodontist this past Wednesday and I just can't believe how much I hate having these brackets on my teeth.  In fact, if I had it to do over again, I don't know if I would actually choose this route of treatment.  My smile was actually not that crooked, but I was having trouble grinding my teeth at night and I kept chipping and cracking my teeth...OUCH!  Anyway, after yet another fun appointment this week, I just wonder if I should have kept my $5000 and invested in a $30 mouth guard instead.  

I have spoken to so many people who have had braces and they have all assured me that I should, "just hang in there because it gets better."  Okay, enough with the lying.  It does not get better, but perhaps even more and more frustrating by the day.  

My orthodontist actually scolded me like a child for eating the wrong things and breaking yet another bracket this past Wednesday.  He said to me, "The next time you feel like chomping on raw vegetables or chewing gum, why don't you think about keeping your eye on the prize?"  Was he serious?  First of all, I don't chew gum, and second, aren't vegetables good for you?  I was especially aggravated because he was making these rude comments while he was working in my mouth.  I couldn't really defend myself with his fingers and pliers eliminating my ability to speak.  Maybe I should have bit him. 

So I have decided that it was not several "brilliant" dentists who collaborated to invent braces as we know them today, but rather Satan who cooked up the recipe.  Just happy I am doing my time now!   ;)

Meeting the Parents!

I guess anyone would understand how I could be nervous meeting my wife's parents for the first time.  First of all, that is a huge leap from girlfriend isn't it?  Not dating or courting...not going steady and wearing my class ring...not even engaged............we're MARRIED!  Now don't get me wrong, I think Kristen and I are perfect for each other, and not just in some ways...in every way.  We were born to be together.  We are so alike in so many ways, yet different enough to truly complement one another.  As absurd as it may sound, we literally are finishing each other sentences.  It's actually a bit scary.

Back to the impending meeting...I have been told by everybody, and I do mean everybody, that Kristen's parents are absolutely charming, genuinely kind-hearted, and all-around great people.  And of course, I believe that.  Look at their daughter...I fell in love with her the moment I saw her.  Only two inspired beings could have raised such a wonderful person.  (But enough about K, I know you are beginning to feel nauseous).  So just because her parents are amazing and super nice, does not mean that I am not nervous about impressing them.  What if I say the wrong thing? What if I embarrass myself?  What if I am too quiet?  Kristen has already had to assure several people that I like them perfectly fine and that I am just a bit quiet when I first meet someone.  I am a little worried that I won't know what to say.  I feel as though I am very introspective when I meet someone new.  I am analyzing every detail and just taking it all in.

Kristen wants me to show off my tricks...let her mom watch me paint...teach her nephews how to play the drums or give them a karate lesson...maybe juggle some eggs fresh out of the fridge.  I don't know about all of that...I just picture myself in a jester's suit, pointy shoes and all!  I guess I do have some fun things to share, but I am just hoping that everyone is patient with my personality...give me time to shine!

Tortured Artist?

Kristen and I were talking and she asked me if I had to choose between art, music, or writing (all of which I love), what would be my decision.  It didn't really take me all that long to think about it.  My mind was quite quick to weigh out my options and decide.  "Art," I said, "because I know who I am as a writer, and I know who I am as a musician.  But my artwork will last me a lifetime."

I've been thinking about that conversation ever since.  I know I could be a better musician, more dedicated to practicing and more driven to perform.  And writing...well I have been blogging about that as of late.  I know I want to do more with that as well.  But if I had to choose one of my passions to sustain me, it would have to be art.  I know that I am still developing...will always be developing as an artist.  I look at my early work and then at my current collection and I wonder how I got here.  It has been a magical journey...some pieces were a true struggle to create...some of them poured out like water.  All of them took on a life of their own.  I look around the room and I feel like I am looking at my children.  I created them, yet they have their own personality. 

I can honestly say that I am intrigued by what I might create next.  All of the images I have in my head dance around and try to shuffle their way out, pushing their way forward to the front of the line and anxiously wait for my conscious mind to pick them next.  Sometimes it feels like a filing cabinet without any files to keep things organized.  I admit it can be a mess!  But this fabulous chaos fuels me.  I often can't wait to pick up a brush...sometimes don't know where to begin...most times don't know where it will end, but always know I will enjoy the ride! 

Univited and PROUD of it!

Do you remember when you were a kid and you didn't get invited to some event?  Perhaps that snotty, red-haired girl was having a pool party and all of your friends were going, but somehow you never received an invitation.  Or maybe your buddies from the soccer team decided to hang out after the big win over your school's rivals and they forgot to mention that to you.  Even as an adult, have you felt left out?

Since coming out to my family, I have been very, very surprised with their reactions.  For the most part, I have had nothing but support.  In fact, one of my brothers in particular has really made me feel more than welcome into his home, having me over for dinner on several occasions since my "coming out party."  He calls me now and again, and probably we are closer than we were before he knew about my life.  In contrast to that, one of my siblings has cut me out of their world.  Another brother (I will refer to him as M), never speaks to me anymore.  He was the one that I thought was the most forward-thinking and conscientious.  I thought at first that his initial reaction was a fluke and that things would get better, but I have tried to contact him three or four times and he never returns my calls. 

About a year ago I found out that his then seventeen year old daughter is also gay.  Needless to say, his reaction was very poor and for a while he had actually kicked her out of his house (shame on him).  I heard that they somewhat reconciled and she ended up back home for her senior year of high school.  Which brings me to the subject of this blog...my niece just graduated...at the top of her class, I might add...and I wasn't invited to her commencement ceremony. 

There is a huge part of me that feels really bad about it, but not for myself of course, but for my niece.  But there is also a very determined part of me that refuses to be affected by M's ignorance.  I truly feel that my absence from his life is his loss.  He has no idea who I am, he has never seen any of my artwork or heard me play with the PSO...he has never met my beautiful and brilliant wife or seen they way she makes me smile...he has no idea that I am proud of who I have become.

What's the Bright Idea?

So, I have finally done it...started writing a little each day on a story idea that I have had banging around in my head for years.  It seems a bit overwhelming...the thought of writing a novel, and perhaps even sounds somewhat pretentious.  Me...writing a novel?  But I did go to school for that very reason!

I'll keep you posted on the progress, but as it stands now I feel pretty good about my start. 

Well, I have to go for now...no more time to waste blogging about writing!

Write, Right?

Since this whole blogging thing is pretty new to me, I often sit at the computer and stare at the screen wondering what I should write.  I tend to start writing about something that happened in my life, but then I think that it is too mundane, or perhaps to personal to share.  I really have lots of subject matter and plenty to say, but I guess I am censoring myself.  I wonder why this is such a struggle?

My life is pretty captivating!  First and foremost, I have a gorgeous new wife...we live on the water where I wake to an inspirational scene every morning, and I have great lighting and space to do my work.  I have been very fortunate and blessed...traveled to lots of beautiful places, met some very interesting people, and I have a list of great friends.  I am also interested in many different activities...music, karate, art, reading, and.............WRITING.  So I just wonder why it is that I am trying this blogging thing and not actually writing that novel that I had always planned on?!?  I guess I just don't want to give up an opportunity to write when it is something that I should have been doing all along.  Finally, it seems, I am going to get to a disciplined place in my life where I write every day.  Shouldn't I be using this precious time to crank out some short stories or a great horror novel?  I'm asking you, my friends...what do you think?

It's in the Bag!

So, I think it is pretty obvious that we all have our little quirks.  Some people like to keep lists, perform chores in a certain order, or just do things in a particular manner.  I read about a man who carried around a ruler in order to write perfectly straight letters with flat bottoms.  According to the story, he wouldn't even sign his name without it.  For another example, my mom has a very specific way that she likes to load the dishwasher.  While growing up she would often "reload" the dishes that I had put in because they weren't in the proper spaces.  Needless to say, I didn't find much purpose in completing this chore when she was going to come directly behind me and redo it.

There are a few people that know this particular quirk that I have.  Mine involves trash bags, and even thinking about it makes me smile.  I have this thing about getting to the last bag in the box of trash bags.  It really just makes my day to see this event coming, and I was inspired to write this morning because I think tomorrow I will be experiencing this...I noticed that we are going to use the last bag very soon.  So, here it is...the last trash bag represents a form of cannibalism, or perhaps more accurately, matricide.  What about self-deprecation?  After all, that would be trashing one's self!  The last trash bag...you take the bag out of the box...and put the box into the bag.  Doesn't that just make you smile?

Just Call Me Crash

So yesterday marked the final performance for the Portsmouth Symphony Orchestra for this season.  Overall, I think that the concert went very well...a few squeaky chairs, some uncooperative stand lights, and of course, the occasional missed note.

Since we have been missing our normal conductor (please note...that was to be the subject of my last entry), it has been a regular occurrence to have a few curve balls thrown our way at rehearsal.  So it was not a huge surprise when I was asked to play a brand new part five minutes before we went on stage because apparently no one had been assigned to it.  Not a big deal...a few cymbal rolls...I could handle it.

Now nerves are not usually an issue for me when I perform since I have been playing for almost as long as I could hold sticks, but I felt a little anxious about the new part.  And also I had some friends in the audience who were seeing me play for the first time (just add them to the multitude of adoring fans I already have).  So I was thinking about this new part while the concert moved along...one piece completed, then another...I knew that I would be sight-reading soon.  So I was trying to concentrate on everything else that I had to keep track of...snare drum and  music...CHECK...soft-yarn mallets....CHECK...crash cymbals within reach...CHECK...woodblock and drumsticks...CHECK...suspended cymbal....CHECK.  We were nearing the end of the concert...three more movements to complete "The Planets."  Jupiter was in order, and again, this was another very new part for me...assigned the day before, but I felt confident that I had at least practiced it with the orchestra.  So everything was going along fine...the end was approaching and the final few bars were rushing towards us...the tempo became presto...a quick ending was in store, but something sounded different...the bells were in the wrong spot, the bass drum missed an entrance, and I suddenly realized that I wasn't counting measures anymore.  Oh, such panic.......and then the movement was over...no sudden rush, no dramatic ending, and no crash cymbal.     :(

Thanks to Alison, Lisa, and Kim for coming out to the show.  And Kristen...thanks for everything you've done to support my dreams.    

You Guest It!

Mom and Dad...and Farm Raised???

So, those of you who know me realize that I very recently got married.  And although I'm sure you are all quite sick of the mushy love crap, the title of this blog was in fact, inpired by my one and only.
(I know, let the gagging begin). 

It all began with Kristen letting me know how adorable I am.  And yes, I do understand that I am quite the looker, but she tells me constantly how cute I am.  So this one morning she asked me how I had become so cute, and my response...yes, you guessed it...was the above title.  Now, let's be clear...my parents did play a role in the cuteness (hats off to genetics please), but there was no farm involved...no farm animals either.  Just my little dog pictured here with me.

So that's the story, simple and quirky, and sure to make my wife smile every time I say it.   :)