Who starts Whole30 and then tags along to Florida with their dad? This girl. 

Food choices just got really interesting. 

Much needed father-daughter bonding time before I join Phil in England (still no ETA.)

I may or may not be meeting a certain fellow Tumblr midweek… I may or may not be overjoyed that I finally get to meet her after all this time. Wait and see. Wait and see…

Who starts Whole30 and then tags along to Florida with their dad? This girl.

Food choices just got really interesting.

Much needed father-daughter bonding time before I join Phil in England (still no ETA.)

I may or may not be meeting a certain fellow Tumblr midweek… I may or may not be overjoyed that I finally get to meet her after all this time. Wait and see. Wait and see…

"Man of my life." I love news writers.

Also, that ring bling they zoomed in on? Not my engagement ring or correct hand for that matter. So weird.

Here’s the URL in case the video doesn’t embed properly: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7GNziUNM2Y

Sorry for the video quality - I had to record the tv with my iphone.

"Amy-ception."

That was a little surreal. 

I’ll try to have the video posted tomorrow. 

I love the descriptor under my name: Newlywed.

"Amy-ception."

That was a little surreal.

I’ll try to have the video posted tomorrow.

I love the descriptor under my name: Newlywed.

Tags: LDR

So this just happened.

You never know who’s reading your story. In this instance, a PR rep (who’s a fellow tumblr!) for gofundme happened to catch this post and reached out to me about possibly being interviewed to talk about Phil & I and the expedited visa being funded via gofundme thanks to our awesome friends and family.

(I’m keeping the PR reps name under wraps as I’m not sure they want their tumblr world to collide with their real world. Don’t want to out anyone!)

I waffled between wanting to crawl into a hole to hide and declining the interview out of extreme “DON’T LOOK AT ME-ITIS” but the world needs some good news and I wanted to give props to gofundme and all of our awesome friends and family for their support.

If they should air the interview, I’ll be sure to post the link (against my better judgment.) Please pay no mind to my nervous sweating or beauty pageant hair and makeup. I always watch these interviews in people’s homes where they look like they didn’t even brush their hair. I think I went a little overboard prepping for my fifteen minutes…

My little corner of the internet is now exposed for the world to see (aka friends and family who knew nothing about it!) Hi, friends and family!

Can we just talk about how awesome the human race can be sometimes?

I know the world can be pretty heinous at times - one look at any news channel and you’ll see we’re plagued with racism, genocide, religious warfare and an array of freak accidents seemingly around every corner.

But what the news usually fails to report are all the amazing ways humans make life a little more awesome for one another.

So I’d like to dedicate this “news report” to some pretty amazing people I’ve been fortunate enough to call my friends and family.

1. The best man in our wedding, Chris Hart. Phil and I were both completely stunned to receive Facebook notifications letting us know that we had been tagged in this heartfelt post. Chris and his girlfriend Heather orchestrated this amazing campaign to raise enough funds ($510) for us to expedite our visa application. After already shelling out $1500 for the visa alone, we couldn’t bring ourselves to pay the extra amount, so this was an absolutely amazing gesture. It took a stunning 4 hours for our friends and family to raise the money. I will never be able to convey how appreciative I am for their thoughtfulness and kindness.

2. My aunt, Debbie. She orchestrated a small dinner party with my cousin and aunt to give me a going away present. (That’s my adorable mom in the bottom right of the picture.) She gathered my favorite comfort food recipes that my great aunt and grandma used to make for all family gatherings and organized them in an adorable recipe book for me. She also downloaded all the wedding photos and videos she took at our wedding onto a USB drive.

3. missmarisol. She sent me the most unexpected care package which included a t-shirt I casually mentioned I would love to have. It says “The Freak Knows Hitters” and references one of our favorite baseball pitchers and his recent No Hitter pitching appearances. The beauty of the t-shirt is that I can wear it with wild abandon in England and not worry about being booted from the Cincinnati Reds fan club. It’ll be our little secret, okay?

Thank you to all of you who make the world a better place for someone else. Thanks for the messages and genuine interest in my well being. Thank you for being better friends than even those IRL can be sometimes. Stay awesome.

ModCloth Inspired Nail Art

udandi:

ModCloth Inspired Nail Art by @amy_nic

This fabulous nail art post is brought to you by Amy of High Heel Mileage, who blogs regularly about life as a future expat and her adventures in health and fitness. You’ve seen her before on this blog because her face appears in the header!

If there’s one thing I love, it’s a beautiful, well made dress. And I’m in love with this whimsical floral design by ModCloth. Perfect for that…

View On WordPress

Still so in love with this dress. Check out my ModCloth inspired manicure - I’m an (nail) artist!

Now where’s that Emmy mani cam??

Anonymous said: You had a degree at age 19? What sorcery is this?

Many moons ago, the Senate passed a bill (140) that allows students to enroll in college-level coursework prior to graduation from high school under the Post-Secondary Enrollment Options Program (PSEOP). High school students who meet certain criteria and pass a few tests may enroll in college/university classes concurrently with high school enrollment to earn college credit or both high school and college credit.

It was purely by accident that I found out about this. My dad was interested in taking some classes at the local college and I tagged along to his informal meeting at the school. The dean mentioned that I might want to take a few classes as well under the post-secondary bill. After looking at the price tag at my current private school, I decided to take the plunge and attempt to finish ALL my required coursework at college. The state paid my tuition as opposed to paying my local high school. (You had to choose wisely - if you went to a more expensive college, you had to pay the difference in tuition as there was a spending cap.)

So essentially I spent my junior and senior year of high school as a freshman and sophomore at college.

I actually met my best friend at this school as we were some of the only 16-year-olds wandering around a college campus with the “big kids.”

I went on to graduate with my Associate’s Degree the weekend before I graduated from high school. When I walked up to receive my degree, the ceremonial holder was empty - by law the school couldn’t issue my degree until I had received my high school diploma. They mailed my degree a few weeks later.

I transferred to a four-year college the following fall and graduated with my Bachelor’s in 2001 a few months before my twentieth birthday.

There you have it!

Hey, there, fellow Whole30 rockstars & those considering it~

I realize that one of the hardest challenges about drastically changing your diet is meal prep. Coming up with new recipes and figuring out what to eat can be a pain on top of dealing with new diet rage.

Some of you have already ‘been there, done that’ when it comes to Whole30 so you might have an arsenal of tricks. However, if you’re hurting for ideas, I’ve put together a Whole30 Pinterest board, and I highly recommend putting one together if you haven’t already - it’s a great way to keep all of your recipes in one place and an awesome resource for discovering new Whole30-approved ideas.

Bonus if you have a tablet or laptop - you can prop it up in the kitchen and follow the recipe directly from the source!

Here’s a rundown of the last time I did Whole30, including what I ate.

Good luck to all of you starting next week!

I’ve been thinking about my grandma a lot lately. Nothing in particular, really. I’ll simply have moments where she pops into my mind or I’ll experience something that triggers a memory.
As I was drifting off to sleep the other night, I had a flashback to the summer after I graduated from college. My grandfather had passed away, a few years prior, and my grandma had moved into the apartment attached to our house. Post-college was a bleak time, people. I was a young, naive 19-year-old who didn’t have a clue what to do with myself or with this degree that supposedly signified I was ready to be a working adult.
I found myself spending more and more time over at my grandma’s - staying up late at night, IM’ing friends, trying to distance myself from my parents in a faux attempt to “move out” and being an all-around depressed a-hole.
Despite my general, “I hate the world” attitude that summer, my grandma was one of my biggest cheerleaders. I’d apply to jobs I didn’t really want or jobs I wasn’t even remotely qualified for and then hold my breath. She kept telling me not to give up. She’d give me space and sit with me in silence. We’d watch tv or read. She cooked for me everyday and never questioned why I was her new roommate. She seemed to understand I was going through a rough time and was trying to figure everything out.
However, what I remembered most was my defeatist attitude. My sense of helplessness and worthlessness because I couldn’t get a job. I look back and see how absurdly hard I was on myself. How depressed I became as a result. How that entire way of thinking only ruined my summer.
I wish I could tell 19-year-old Amy not to worry. That it would take several more months of hard work and rejection before she finally scored a job. Granted, a low paying completely unglamorous job, but a job. I’d tell her that she only had to work there for 9 months before she snagged another job that basically doubled her salary. I’d tell her she’d mostly love that job and meet some of her best friends there over the course of the next ten years. I’d tell her that she’d get to finally use her degree at that job and do a pretty phenomenal job. I’d tell her to brace herself because she was about to face some middle age mean girls but not to worry because she’d take a stand and walk away from the entire situation.
Twelve years later, I’d find myself back on my grandma’s couch, or rather next to it, but this time, I would be the one taking care of her. It’s amazing how life repeats itself.
I realized weeks ago that I was putting myself through that same cycle of defeatism. Every morning I’d reach for the phone to check on the visa status. And so far, well, you all know the answer.
I’ve been doing a lot better these past few weeks. I made a promise to myself, and to Phil, to learn from this experience and not wallow and I’ve kept it. I wish I could show 19-year-old Amy how to handle situations like these. Her summer could’ve turned out so differently. Instead, I’ll do us both a favor and learn from our experiences and grow a little for both of us.
(My hair in 2001 was huge - that graduation cap is the only thing keeping my hair in the frame…)

I’ve been thinking about my grandma a lot lately. Nothing in particular, really. I’ll simply have moments where she pops into my mind or I’ll experience something that triggers a memory.

As I was drifting off to sleep the other night, I had a flashback to the summer after I graduated from college. My grandfather had passed away, a few years prior, and my grandma had moved into the apartment attached to our house. Post-college was a bleak time, people. I was a young, naive 19-year-old who didn’t have a clue what to do with myself or with this degree that supposedly signified I was ready to be a working adult.

I found myself spending more and more time over at my grandma’s - staying up late at night, IM’ing friends, trying to distance myself from my parents in a faux attempt to “move out” and being an all-around depressed a-hole.

Despite my general, “I hate the world” attitude that summer, my grandma was one of my biggest cheerleaders. I’d apply to jobs I didn’t really want or jobs I wasn’t even remotely qualified for and then hold my breath. She kept telling me not to give up. She’d give me space and sit with me in silence. We’d watch tv or read. She cooked for me everyday and never questioned why I was her new roommate. She seemed to understand I was going through a rough time and was trying to figure everything out.

However, what I remembered most was my defeatist attitude. My sense of helplessness and worthlessness because I couldn’t get a job. I look back and see how absurdly hard I was on myself. How depressed I became as a result. How that entire way of thinking only ruined my summer.

I wish I could tell 19-year-old Amy not to worry. That it would take several more months of hard work and rejection before she finally scored a job. Granted, a low paying completely unglamorous job, but a job. I’d tell her that she only had to work there for 9 months before she snagged another job that basically doubled her salary. I’d tell her she’d mostly love that job and meet some of her best friends there over the course of the next ten years. I’d tell her that she’d get to finally use her degree at that job and do a pretty phenomenal job. I’d tell her to brace herself because she was about to face some middle age mean girls but not to worry because she’d take a stand and walk away from the entire situation.

Twelve years later, I’d find myself back on my grandma’s couch, or rather next to it, but this time, I would be the one taking care of her. It’s amazing how life repeats itself.

I realized weeks ago that I was putting myself through that same cycle of defeatism. Every morning I’d reach for the phone to check on the visa status. And so far, well, you all know the answer.

I’ve been doing a lot better these past few weeks. I made a promise to myself, and to Phil, to learn from this experience and not wallow and I’ve kept it. I wish I could show 19-year-old Amy how to handle situations like these. Her summer could’ve turned out so differently. Instead, I’ll do us both a favor and learn from our experiences and grow a little for both of us.

(My hair in 2001 was huge - that graduation cap is the only thing keeping my hair in the frame…)

image

While we still don’t have an official countdown for my move to England, I’m playing the role of Type A Optimist and studying this riveting read: The Official Highway Code.

Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure the study guide for the US driving test was only like 15 pages long. Granted, it has been SEVENTEEN YEARS since I took the driving test so my memory might be fuzzy… (Side note: GOOD LORD I’M GETTING OLD!)

Normally, I’m game for a new challenge such as learning how to drive in a new country (No, I’m really not.) But I’m still slightly traumatized from my last foreign driving foray.

The year was 2004 and I was a naive country girl with a map and zero clues. My sister and I took off for Ireland with very little prep work. We had a rental car, hostels lined up and a limited supply of cash. And that was about it.

Long story, short: the three hour drive from Dublin to Cork turned into a navigational nightmare. It took us no less than eight very confused hours to finally make our way into Cork.

How did anyone find anything in the days before GPS?! About 4 hours into our journey, we discovered why we were having such a hard time finding the road signs - THEY WERE AFFIXED ON THE SIDES OF THE BUILDINGS!

After much crying, praying, cursing and negotiating with whatever deity would listen, we FINALLY made it into Cork. I stopped at the first gas station we saw (pictured below) and kindly asked the man to give me explicit turn-by-turn directions to our hostel. The man not only showed us how to get to our location, but he locked up his store and came outside to point the direction we needed to go in.

I was so nervous and afraid I was going to get lost again. By the time we arrived at the hostel, I was a skittish mess. So nervous in fact, that I accidentally bumped the hostel exterior with the car when we arrived!

Needless to say, I never drove in Ireland after that. The rental company came and retrieved it from the hostel. They were probably relieved it was still in one piece…

I’m hoping and preparing for better results this time!

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(Top to bottom: the gas station attendant from heaven; the weirdest driving concentration face ever; pretending to have fun but actually lost and scared!)