What Christmas Vacation Means to Me

Born in December as Stacey Connolly, I quickly realized two things about myself; I share a birth-month with Jesus (ha…..I’m totally getting into heaven) and I have the same initials as Santa Claus.

My memories of growing up in the Connolly household are full of fond, watercolor pictures of Arizona and Saturday mornings at home, blasting musical classics such as Sloop John B and Let me Sleep on It, by the Beach Boys and Meatloaf, respectively. I also remember moving to Wyoming and being surprised to find it was not the forested wilderness I expected but a flat, treeless prairie instead.

I recall early viewings of Vacation and European Vacation; the song Holiday Road gives me goose bumps to this very day (I know cause I purposefully listen to it when I need to get excited). That being said, my appreciation for comedies and my admiration for the comedic genius of Chevy Chase sprouted at around age 8. But above all other childhood recollections, the one thing that really stands out in my early years is my father’s zealous and impassioned celebration of Christmas.

My awkward teenage years brought birthdays celebrated by blowing out the candles with Christmas lights twinkling in the background and Billy Squire’s Christmas is the Time to Say I Love You playing right after my family’s loud rendition of Happy Birthday. I learned to drive in empty parking lots next to cut-down Evergreen and Blue Spruce sales. And I received combo-gift after combo-gift from my girlfriends banking on my birthday’s proximity to December 25th.

My early associations with Jesus and the big S.C., impressionable teenage years intermixed with holiday décor and music, and my Dad’s celebratory devotion instilled within me a great love and passion for Christmas that I’ve found difficult to match. Its my most anticipated, celebrated, and hap, hap, happiest day of the year.

After this jolly childhood, I found my way off to college. My first visit to Laramie, WY landed me at the Sigma Chi house and I vividly remember the first time I met Robert Sullivan (Sully). We were playing a round of Trapped and drinking Ruby Red Squirt with Captain Morgan (well, I was drinking that, he probably was not). For those of you who haven’t tried it, it tastes just like orange sherbet going down…….and coming back up…so don’t bother. I also met my future spouse, John McBride, and later met Jesse Driscoll (future BFF and Sully's future wife). Four years of college, two weddings, and six years of living close-by in Fort Collins have cultivated a pretty strong friendship between the McBride’s and Sullivan’s.

John, a lover of Fletch and Caddyshack but not as impassioned by Christmas as I, has always agreed to watch Christmas Vacation with me (and refuses to watch any other holiday film). Sharing this movie with my spouse and reminiscing in childhood memories of the original Vacation and my Dad’s holiday dedication earned Christmas Vacation a pretty high spot on my “favorite movie” list. My excitement bubbles over just thinking about the cinematic masterpiece and did so one day while hanging out with the Sullivan’s. Over homebrew and football, Sully and I realized that we shared the same enthusiasm for the film, as well as all other things Christmas. I had met my match when it comes to Christmas cheer….we are, you might say, kindred spirits. (Cue Jesse and John eye-roll).

Well, the discovery of this shared fervor led to excited talks of reindeer, jingle bells, caroling, and naturally, watching Christmas Vacation. Alarmed by the early arrival sugarplums, holly, and ol’ St. Nick, John and Jesse quickly established the “No Christmas until November 1^st” rule.

Ever since, on November 1^st, John and I jump in our old front-wheel drive sleigh and head on over the Sullivan’s to watch what has become the most important of Christmas symbols to me, Christmas Vacation. In recent years, we’ve expanded to a double-feature with Elf quickly becoming a group favorite. I now look forward to November 1^st with the same anticipation, zeal and excitement that I used to hold only for Christmas.

To me, Christmas Vacation means it’s the second best day of the year and I get to spend it with my best friends. Although the movie is truly an American Classic for reasons far beyond this egocentric narrative, my own appreciation for the film has quadrupled thanks to our now-traditional celebration of November 1^st. I think Clark Griswold said it best, “The most enjoying traditions of the season are best enjoyed in the warm embrace of kith and kin.”

Thith movie is a thymbol of the thpirit of the Sullivan & McBride kick-off to Chrithmath.

30 Before 30: Item 10

I have always wanted to go Skydiving. It's been on my life list of things to do for years and years and I've repeatedly talked myself out of it. As with Run a Marathon, this item quickly made it on my list due to a lifetime of building up the event in my head. Thanks to a push from my little brother, I finally crossed Item 10: Go Skydiving off my list.

Prepared for me to completely bail on him, my brother, Logan, arrived at my house on Friday night, the evening before the jump. He had researched and reserved our jump with Mile High Skydiving in Longmont, CO and by the shrill of my voice when we spoke about it and my flip-flopping position on skydiving in general, he assumed he should be nearby in case I tried to escape.

We woke up on Saturday morning to cloudy skies and I thought,"Whew...maybe I don't have to go through with his!" Log called to find out if we could still throw ourselves out the door of a perfectly good plane and, sure enough, they were doing jumps that day. Log, Spouse and I hopped in the car, stopped for a delicious (and potentially final) breakfast and made our way down to the Longmont Airport. We signed in, got geared up and then had to wait.

We waited and waited while the anxiety built up in my stomach and tightened my shoulders. Nervous fear tingled all over literally making my hair stand on end. Finally, after an eternity, they called our name. I turned to my Spouse, told him that after an appropriate number of years he could re-marry, gave him a kiss and we piled into a trailer to drive out to the runway.

Boyd, my instructor, met me at the plane and told me all the things you need to know to skydive. Essentially, lean back, scream and let him do the work.

We boarded the plane and, as the last one on, I quickly realized I'd be the first one off. At the last minute, one single-diver, without an instructor, hopped on making me #2 in the line-up. The plane took off and with the engine humming, Boyd tried to make small talk to take my mind off the farmlands below us which were becoming a smaller and smaller checkerboard of far-away Earth.

We gained elevation and after only a few minutes of flight we reached our goal height of 10,000 feet. Boyd gave me a hat, gloves, and goggles and let me know that when the door opened, I might have an overwhelming sensation of fear. Really? You think that's when the fear will strike?

Sure enough, the door opened and my stomach hopped into my throat. My heart pounded in my ears and I stared out at the horizon over the Rocky Mountains silently reciting the Act of Contrition (Catholic prayer said to ask forgiveness of sins). The single-diver stood up and made his way towards the door, without a pause he lept out and disappeared over the edge. It is at this point that I apparently stopped praying silently because Log said I burst out with a, "Jesus Christ, Holy Crap, Oh My God."

Boyd, thankfully a good foot taller than me, stood up and moved the two of us to the doorway (I pretty much had no ability to move my legs). I looked down at the ground below with dizzying fear and then focused my gaze on the horizon to avoid getting sick. Boyd asked, "Ready!?" and without waiting for my response jumped from the plane.

We tumbled over in the air and I saw the underside of the plane were I had just been planted safely. We flipped again and were facing the ground. Suddenly, my fear completely left me! We were soaring through the air and I felt bits of cloud pelting my face, but LOVED it! Instead of a feeling of falling, I felt as though a strong wind was pushing me upward. Although I was well aware of the fact that I was diving towards the ground, I felt suspended in air and an overwhelming euphoria. I couldn't help but scream with delight and laugh with complete joy!!!

I've never experienced such an amazing or addictive feeling before; it seemed as though we were flying! 45 seconds after diving head first through the air, we pulled the chute and slowed down to comfortable float. Boyd, being the good instructor that he was, asked if I was okay and then proceeded to make large figure-eights with the chute to give me a full view of the mountains, farmland and neighboring cities.

Looking out over the Rocky Mountains, I could see the layers and layers of snowy peaks which are usually blocked from our ground view of the Front Range. I felt weightless and completely calm, breathing in the fresh, cold air and taking in the gold, red, and orange trees below.

As Earth neared, I started to feel the pull of gravity for the first time since jumping from the plane and quickly became saddened that my flight was almost over. We landed softly on the soil and met up with my bro. I couldn't stop smiling, giggling and thanking Boyd. Completely overjoyed, I wanted to get right back on the plane and jump again!

We rode the trailer back to the diving center, received our diving certificates (both of our names are spelled wrong) and spent the rest of the day gleefully retelling the story of our jumps to each other, my spouse and friends.

A big, huge THANK YOU to my little brother for motivating me to actually do the jump! And a big thanks to my spouse for not believing that I'd have an Acme anvil my chute or disappear in a little cloud of dust on the ground, and thus, supporting me in facing this fear. Another thanks to the spouse for all the great photos he snapped of the day.

Skydiving was truly the most amazing feeling and an activity I cannot wait to do again!!! EVERYONE should skydive at least once cause the feeling of flying is unbelievable and, as much as I've tried here, is really something that you just can't describe.

30 Before 30: Item 23, Part 1

When the leaves change colors and football is on tv 5 out of 7 days a week, I start to crave soups, late-summer veggies and all thing warm. My first recipe for Item 23: Learn to Cook 5 Meals is Vegetable Stew.

I've made two versions, one Vegan and one with Beef. The vegan version was for me, but I needed to provide my spouse with a little roast beast to really get his tastebugs turned on for veggie soup (not exactly his favorite dish).

See below for my first recipe and some not-to-good photos (it may not look great but it sure was delicious)!!

What You Need:

• 2-3 Carrots
• 2-3 Potatos (or several small taters)
• Handful of Green Beans
• 1 Cup of Barley
• Half an Onion
• 2-3 Celery Stalks
• 2 Cans Veggie Broth (and 2 Cans Beef Broth for the Meat-version)
• 1 Can of Peeled, Whole Tomatos
• 1 Package of Stew Beef
• 2-4 Cloves of Garlic
• Various Seasonings including Pepper, Salt, Garlic Salt, Oregano, Italian Seasoning Mix and anything else you like :)

And Action:

Bring 2.5 Cups of water and 1/8 Teaspoon of salt to boil in large pot. Mix in 1 Cup Barley. Cover and simmer over low heat for 45 minutes until barley is soft but still chewy. Set aside.

Chop all veggies into bite-sized portions and dice garlic, set aside.

For Beef Veggie Stew - In a large pot, add a teaspoon of olive oil,

chopped onions, diced garlic and stew beef along with salt, pepper and other seasonings. Cook until meat is browned. Pour in 2 cans of beef broth. Crush the peeled, whole tomatos and add to broth along with all other chopped veggies. Mix in pre-cooked barley. Salt & Pepper/Season to taste (adding in a shot of Worchestaire sauce really kicks up the beef flavor). Cook for 1.5-2 hours or until meat is tender.

For Vegan Veggie Stew - In a large pot, add a teaspoon of olive oil, chopped onions, and diced garlic. Pour in two cans of Veggie Broth. Crush the can of peeeled tomatos and add to broth along with all other chopped veggies. Mix in pre-cooked barley. Salt & Pepper/Season to taste. Cook for 1-1.5 hours.

The result: Delicious stew perfect for cool fall evenings with a homebrew (or a salad...I recommend the homebrew).

30 Before 30: Item 16

My girlfriends and I have been working on establishing a tradition we've dubbed the Sunday Funday Club where we get together once a month on a Sunday and do some kind of activity that we've all wanted to do (i.e. go to a museum, visit a pumpkin patch, etc). Inspired by Item 16: Learn to Knit, my great friend Amy volunteered her time to host a Sunday Funday Club to teach us.

Amy, Sheila, Kelly and I got together last Sunday to spend the afternoon knitting washcloths and had an incredible time! Amy provided each of us with knitting notebooks chock full of information such as abbreviations, patterns and "how to" guides.

Here she is! She's a great teacher :)

I'm not exactly a crafty girl but feel that I picked up knitting rather quickly! We learned how to make slip knots, cast on (basically getting the yarn on the knitting needles) and the difference between knitting and purling (but only Sheila was advanced enough to actually purl...Kelly and I stuck to knitting).

Here's my beginning of a washcloth!

After we got started, Amy came around to each of us to help us find a knitting rhythm and to fix any errors or mistakes we had made. While the yarn turned from balls into washcloths, we chatted and giggled the afternoon away. We took a short break to enjoy homemade apple pie ala mode and some hot tea. It was delicious!

Me...knitting

I've spent the last week working on my new washcloth and am excited to start my next project....a scarf! A big thanks to Amy for being a great teacher and thanks to Sheila and Kelly for learning a new skill with me! Item 16: Learn to Knit is officially complete :)

30 Before 30: Item 5

Adding Item #5 - Plant a Tree quickly earned a spot on my list as it just seemed like the right thing to do. In our polluted world, I wanted to give a little green back to mother Earth and do my part to enrich the air and soil.

Hippie-dippie reasons aside, I also have always wanted to be good at gardening. It just seems like one of those domestic skills that so many of my girlfriends have taken to naturally that I just can't do...you know like cooking, sewing, and cleaning (can't do a one of them). My lucky spouse...he married a domestic gem, didn't he?

Anyway, a number of things have contributed to my not-so-green thumb including forgetfulness, frequent out-of-town trips, and complete disregard for planting instructions or watering. Also, I have a phobic-level fear of snakes that makes it virtually impossible for me to go into my backyard between May and September. I know it's irrational and I don't care...keep those spawns of the devil away from me.

So, in efforts to let out my inner tree-hugger, catch up with my domestically-progressive friends and prove to the snakes that I am not afraid, planting a tree seemed like a great lesson in gardening and a small step towards saving the planet (and I waited until October until all the snakes were gone...partial fail).

To make things as difficult as possible, the location I selected for our tree was the home to an Aspen stump. So, first things first, I had to dig out the stump.

A much more difficult task than I had anticipated...the spouse helped me out with his ditch-digging experience from college landscaping jobs and a chainsaw.

I selected the tree, a lovely Maple, which my spouse purchased as my belated, four-year anniversary present. Isn't it the traditional four-year anniversary gift to give/get wood (immature giggle)? Hmm, maybe that's year five? Well, whatever the rule, that's what I got.

I carefully followed the instructions on a bag of "Tree and Shrub Soil" to dig the hole two-times bigger than the base of the tree. I then placed the tree in the hole and surrounded it with the special soil, manure, old dirt and a thick layer of mulch to keep its little roots warm in these cool, fall temps.

My Tree!

I feel pretty darn good about planting a tree....I learned a little something about stump removal and proper tree-planting procedure while giving a little gift to nature.

30 Before 30: Item 4, Part 2

Two Classic Novels down, three more to go! This book was an easy read compared to novel #1-Catch-22 and since it was a love story, it certainly was more within my scope of interest than a war novel. Thanks to the subject matter and my new obsession with Audio Books (I drive ALOT...started doin' a little multi-tasking), this book was a very fast read....er...listen.

Classic Novel #2 - The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

I very much enjoyed this wonderfully romantic and tragic novel. Told from the perspective of Nick Carraway, a young man living on the West Egg of Long Island in the 1920's, The Great Gatsby tells the tale of one heartbreaking love story inextricably intertwined with two adulterous affairs.

Upon arriving in Long Island, Nick finds his rented summer cottage nestled between mansions and next door to the infamous Jay Gatsby. Through a series of fabulous soirees, trips to the city and visits with his cousin, Daisy Buchanan, Nick eventually befriends the mysterious Mr. Gatsby. He becomes immersed in a crowd of immoral aristocrats, observing their careless lifestyle and developing his own relationship with the female golfer, Jordan Baker.

Unfortunately, the fun times of the roaring 20's don't last long for the opulent group as tragedy strikes again and again. Nick finds himself understanding the true nature of his new friends and the high-society world they live in, while discovering the real identity of the Great Gatsby.

"Not a Love Story" Recommendation - Rant, by Chuck Palahniuk

All right, this book was down-right weird. Chuck Palahniuk demonstrates his literary brilliance with Rant, telling the fictional story of Buster Casey as an oral biography. Through the interviews of childhood acquaintances, parents, lovers, and friends, the reader quickly learns that Buster, or "Rant," is already deceased.

The contradictory tales of Echo Lawrence, Chester Casey, Shot Donyan and Green Taylor Simms, illustrate a disturbing glimpse into Rant's upbringing in the small, country town of Middletown. We learn of his extraordinary abilities, his sexual adventures and his snake-catching, spider-hunting activities that eventually infect him with rabies. As Rant leaves his small town for big-city life, the reader is introduced to a strange future split into two degenerate cultures: "Daytimers" and "Nighttimers." With half the population infected with rabies, people start showing zombie-like characteristics and society further crumbles pinpointing Rant as the culprit for the downfall.

With the rabies epidemic growing, Rant joins a Nighttimer "Party Crashing" crowd who amuse themselves demolition-derby style by crashing into each other on the freeways. The intricate details and rules of Party Crashing allow the reader to uncover the party-crashing secret that immortality may be achievable for a select few. Naturally, one of those few might be Rant. The story of his father, mother and grandmother creepily unfolds and you realize that Rant may not be the person you thought he was (or still is) at all.

This book was somewhat nauseating (after all, they call him Rant because that's the sound you make when you vomit) but it was brilliantly written, undeniably captivating and kept me sitting on the very edge of my seat all the way to the uncomfortable end.

Words to Live By

I've seen this post two places now: here and here. I love this and wanted to share with all of you.

I find myself struggling this week to find balance and feel a little bit of self-pity rearing its ugly head. Reading this reminds me to get my own head outta my....well, you know what...

30 Before 30: Item 1

I have ALWAYS wanted to run a marathon.

This is the big ONE...the mother of all List items. If I accomplished nothing else before I turned 30, running 26.2 miles was the one thing I really wanted to achieve. When I made my 30 Before 30 list, Running a Marathon quickly took its place as Item 1.

Why?....I honestly don't know. I get TONS of questions from runners, non-runners, family members, friends, and co-workers asking me why on Earth I'd ever WANT to run 26.2 miles. My husband likes to remind that we work....so we can have cars....so we don't have to run 26.2 miles and can drive instead. But for some unknown, masochistic, self-challenging, running-addicted reason, I absolutely had to accomplish this goal.

On Sunday, October 3rd in Boulder, CO, I finally achieved my goal in 4 hours 16 minutes and 48 seconds. It was one of the most exciting, terrifying, painful, bittersweet, happy and challenging days of my life!!

VICTORY!!!

I don't have my official splits and, although I was pacing myself, I don't remember the individual mile times due to blurred....er, repressed...memories. However, I can say that the first 18 miles were actually pretty good! I felt prepared, strong and kind of fast.

At Mile 19, all that changed. At Mile 19, I hit the "Wall." I knew it would come, I knew it would hurt and I KNEW I had to power through it. I sipped a Gu packet, chugged some water and slowly pushed through the last 7.2 at a moderate but sustainable pace, with several walking breaks and A LOT of Ke$ha!

Mustering up a my last shreds of energy, I sprinted across the finish line, singing "Ima fight till I see the sunlight, " finishing at an average pace of approximately 9 minutes 48 seconds per mile.

Me Crossing the Finish Line

I was instantly consumed by a surge of joy that brought tears to my eyes. Euphoric happiness took over my entire body and I almost collapsed from the overwhelming sense of victory and, well, from exhaustion!

Post-Race Euphoria & Finisher's Medal :)

It hurt. My legs just started to feel better today (Wednesday). Since the race, I've done nothing but sleep and eat. I'm bruised, chaffed and still exhausted. BUT even with all this, the sense of accomplishment, athleticism, joy, and strength the race gave me was an incredible experience and........I think I'll do it again.....only faster....

If you're interested in the race info for next year, check out www.bouldermarathon.com. Also, for training programs and other running information, check out www.runnersworld.com.

You Can Take the Girl Outta Jersey....

Long before Snooki and the Situation, there was Stevie D., Richie, Nel, Rad, Rachel, Swan, Log, Sista and Jon Boy.  The real Jersey Shore, for my entire life, was visiting my cousins in Toms River, crossing the bridge to Seaside Heights, eating pizza at the Sawmill, drinking Yuengling at the Beach Bar and sometimes jumping into the Atlantic in the middle of the night.  Not too many people understand it, as not too many people are best friends with their siblings and cousins, but even though I was raised on the plains of Wyoming, Jersey will always feel like home.

This week, my family lost two members of our eldest generation and we are simultaneously waiting for the arrival of our newest, youngest generation. It breaks my heart to be so many miles away, but thankful for every visit I’ve been able to enjoy over the years.

On my most recent trip, I brought my good friend Lindsey to experience the Garden State. Although the Jersey Shore has become famous for spray tans, working out and clubbin’ it, that’s not the scene I introduced her to.....

My Jersey Shore is big, family events with mouth-watering, good food, lots of laughter, day trips to NYC, and dancing around the living room to Billy Joel with my Polish, Italian and Irish cousins until 1am.

Is there anything more fun that? Quite simply, no.  

The Jersey Shore

Cousins

I mentioned mouth-watering, good food

The Mom & Dad To-Be

Some of my Family :)

In NYC

The John Lennon Imagine Exhibit. 

Have I mentioned I think I'm the reincarnated spirit of John Lennon?? He died late in the evening on December 8th, 1980....I was born early on December 9th...the Beatles are my favorite band....

Cousin Rich & Me

The Exhibit & my Sista

30 Before 30: Item 4, Part 1

For the last two years or so, a novel has been sitting on my night stand. With the bookmark permanently inked into page 10, it has waited while I've been less-than-motivated to pick it up and finish it.

In the meantime, while the novel collected dust, I read Reading Lolita in Tehran. Reading Lolita in Tehran is a memoir, written by a teacher living in the Islamic Republic of Iran, who gathers a group of women together every Thursday to read outlawed Western classics. Their determination to understand the great works of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Jane Austen and Vladimir Nabokov in such a dangerous environment surprised and awed me. I realized that I, a free American woman, had never taken the opportunity to read the very novels they risked everything to get their hands on. These novels, that the women had to smuggle and hide from the Republic, are sitting on bookshelves at Barnes & Noble, free for borrowing from the library and even collecting dust on my nightstand.

So, I have become determined to read the classic works of Charlotte Brown, Joseph Heller and many more, and kicked off this literary adventure by adding Read 5 "Classic" Novels to my list as Item 4.

Novel #1 - Catch-22, by Joseph Heller
The nightstand book, covered with dust and imprinted with a 2-year old book mark, is Catch-22. A story about World War II American bombardier Yassarian, Catch-22 guides you through the horrifying, dark and insane world of war.

Joseph Heller's strange dialogue jumps from character to character and the settings change so frequently, it leaves the reader a bit confused and frustrated. However, the discomfort the reader feels pales in comparison to the plight of Yassarian, who lives in a world where everyone is trying to kill him. Heller's picture-perfect details and disturbing humor suck you into an elaborate tale full of curious characters, hilarious conversations and terrifying wartime events.

I finished this book reminded of what our freedom has cost and thankful for all that has been sacrificed for the life I often take for granted (and to be honest, thankful the book was done).

Catch-22 was a struggle for me to read and likely not a book I'll read again. However, Yassarian's shockingly sane character, in an army full of crazy men, grabbed my heart and ultimately won me over. I can't help but recommend this book to anyone looking for a challenging, classic novel.

Guilty Pleasure Book: The Adventures of Sookie Stackhouse
Challenging book not on your radar right now? Well, good news, I have another recommendation and it is anything but serious or challenging. So, I don't know about you, but baby-vamps and were-puppies battling it out over the high school football field really doesn't appeal to me (i.e. Twilight). In fact, any supernatural books, stories or characters, have rarely caught my attention, until I discovered The Adventures of Sookie Stackhouse.

In a series of ten books, author Charlaine Harris introduces you to vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters and other things that go bump in the night in her page-turning, quick reads. Sookie, the telepathic heroine, meets Bill Compton, a striking vampire, in the small town of Bon Temps, LA. Their love-at-first-sight affair sets them off on a series of adventures, getting them into and out of trouble while dealing with their not-so-friendly but very easy-on-the-eyes vampire nemesis, Eric. As the books introduce new characters and the difficulties of a vampire-human relationship become more and more complicated, the reader is caught wondering who is good, who is evil and who is the best supernatural companion for Sookie....who is something of a supernatural being herself.