Christmas Card 2013

MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL! 

Our year in review: 

Scott started his third year of medical school and Sarah helped over 40 couples get married as an event coordinator at the War Memorial Chapel. It was an EVENTful year! Get it? Ahem. Moving on. We added a new (feline) addition to the family. Her name is Rory and she is Mia's best friend. We also took a mini vacation to Asheville, NC this fall. It was gorgeous and we are currently devising a plan on how to live at the Biltmore Estate. (We know we aren't Vanderbilts, but that's a minor detail!)

What does 2014 hold? Some big decisions. We will be making those over the next few months regarding Scott's choice of specialty and where we'd like to pursue the next chapter of this journey. We would appreciate your thoughts & prayers. We definitely couldn't do this without all of our friends & family's love and support. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! 

The Cookie Chronicle

A couple of weekends ago I set out on the mundane task of grocery shopping. When I walked into the store I saw Girl Scouts. It was like those little girls in tan and green had a glowing aura around them and the Hallelujah chorus in the background. I knew what was now number one on my grocery list. I got the unimportant necessities of life and some cash back. I made a bee line to the Girl Scouts, who, like the sirens in Greek mythology, beckoned me to crash my diet on the rocks of Caramel Delights. I got up to their table and those shrewd innocent girls told me they were almost out. I just wanted two boxes of Caramel Delights and a box of Thin Mints. To my great disappointment they were out of Thin Mints (of course). Those cunning little scouts said if I got 5 boxes I would be put in a drawing for a year supply of Girl Scout cookies. They had me at year long supply. I scooped up the last four boxes of Caramel Delights and one box of Peanut Butter Patties and I trotted out with my spoils. I got home but hid them because I didn’t want to share (I was having a Selfish Sarah Saturday). To my great chagrin Scott found them. He walked out of the pantry with the look of disbelief on his face. He said, “ You got five boxes???” I said, “Yes.” rather sheepishly. I think he still couldn't believe it even with the weight of five boxes in his hands. The feeling of a total glutton hit me in the face. I asked myself why in the world do we need five boxes of cookies? I mean seriously. We decided we would just have to pace ourselves. Fast forward two weeks and we still have a few cookies left. Scott and I have a tendency to uh- er, over indulge so it's pretty much a miracle. Don't worry, those Caramel Delight's days are numbered.

So what is the moral of the story?


Don't trust Girl Scouts.

Our first fight

As many of you know we've been married two years. However, our first real fight happened about two weeks before our two year anniversary.  We've had our moments don't get me wrong but this was our first real all out screaming match. What, you might you ask, could bring these two wonderful, self controlled, mature adults to do such a thing? 

The Culprit

Yes. It's true. We are such fatties that we had our first fight over cupcakes. But let me just clarify, they were not just any cupcakes. They were Georgetown Cupcakes. You know, the ones that are on the TV show D.C. Cupcakes that everyone raves about. Well, as you can see, we had already devoured two, the other two my sister and her boyfriend ate. We saved the last two for later. Obviously, we were up in D.C. when we got these but we left that day to come home. We didn't get back until late. I think it was around 11 pm. Scott wanted to leave everything out in the car. Me, being a girl, needed stuff in my bags. Then Scott, being a guy, decides he is taking everything in at once. I loaded myself up too but not quite as much. How Scott managed to get the cupcakes on top of that pile of stuff in his arms I don't know, regardless he had THE precious cargo. Scott got up to the door while I was still getting stuff out of the car. I look up and he is trying to get the mail. I said "Just leave it I'll grab it when I come up."  but he persisted. I'm pretty sure I was midway in saying that again when I hear something crash. I come running up and there is the box of cupcakes laying upside down on the floor. I was sooooooooooo angry. I don't even know why. I guess being tired and stuck in a car for 5 hours got to me. I pick up the box and open it up, hoping, no praying they were intact. Instead I find a cupcake massacre. I couldn't even figure out who's icing was whose! I started screaming things like "WHY CAN'T YOU LISTEN TO ME?" and "LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE?" and the best one "YOU'VE RUINED EVERYTHING!" I'm sure I said some other things but thankfully I can't remember them. Scott, who at this point had put everything down but the mail, gets in my face, and I mean in my face. He shouts "YOU ARE SO IMMATURE THAT YOU WOULD GET THIS UPSET OVER CUPCAKES!!!!" (touche) I wouldn't have had anything to say back if he hadn't swung open the door and thrown the mail out on the wet grass. I screamed back "OH YEAH THAT WHAT SOOOOOOO MATURE!!!" (Thus making myself even more immature) We then stalked off, fuming at each other. Don't worry it didn't last long.  Soon after, we made up and happily ate our pile of obliterated cupcakes. 

Don't judge.

Won't you not be my neighbor

Neighbors... everyone has them and everyone has THAT one. In our case, we have a few and they are up on my nerves. Here is a little background as to why.

In our townhouse complex each building has four units. It's basically divided into four squares. We live in the front left unit. The neighbors in question live on the back right unit and another neighbor lives in another building entirely and even further to the right. They have three cars between them and they park their three cars in front of our house!!! All the while, the spots that are closer to their side of the building go completely unoccupied. I'm not exaggerating. That leaves Scott and I to park four to five spots from our house. They are either big meany pants or completely unaware of their geographical location. Seriously, it takes them longer to walk from our side of the building all the way around to the other side then it would if they parked on their own side!!! I don't think very highly of their manners and/or their intelligence. I know that we sound lazy but it's the principle of the situation. Anyway, this has a funny story at the end of it. No, it's not a hilarious confrontation (though that might be coming soon). It's something Scott said.  A little more of background is needed. Tonight, we are dog sitting my parents dog, Toby. We pulled in this evening and I was having a mini-tantrum about the parking situation. We (really I) started plotting my revenge. One of the more tame schemes has to do with the new sod one of the neighbors put down in their yard. They told us how they just couldn't get their grass to live through the winter (boohoo!) but had hopes for this year. I said we should go park our car on their special sod and see how they like that! (insert evil laugh) Anyway, the funny part of the story is as follows:

Scott said, "We could get Toby to go poop on their grass."
I was like, "How does that help our situation?"
He said "Well, since they poop their cars on our spots, we'll get Toby to poop on theirs."

Subtle. I like it, but would Mr. Rogers approve? Most likely not. But he must have had a pesky neighbor somewhere along the way. I need to brush up on my Mr. Rogers to see how he dealt with this situation in the Neighborhood of Make-Believe.

Do any of you have tips on how to deal with inconsiderate nincompoops (aka neighbors)?

The itsy bitsy spider....

 For everyone's information, I just hopped on the Harry Potter bandwagon. I know, I'm a little late. Anyway, I decided to have a Harry Potter marathon. The other night I was watching Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets on my computer in the bed. Scott was writing a birthday card right next to me. He would tune in every now and then but was only half paying attention. Well, just in case anyone is as behind the times as me, in the movie there are several scenes with spiders. These spiders come along with spider-y music. Seriously, if spiders had a theme song then it's on this movie. Anyway, I'm sitting there and I'm totally into the movie. It starts to get intense because there is spider music playing so I know spiders are coming. Then you see them creeping all over the screen. Suddenly, Scott screams! Yes, screams.  He then proceeds to throw the card at me and run out of the room. I had just been in a scary place with all those spiders so I assumed he had been too. But he didn't stop yelling. I became concerned and thought it was serious. I go to check on him and he is running up and down our hall waving his arms frantically. I started to laugh. I told him it was just the movie. He could not form words. He just kept freaking out and slapping himself to, at the very least, paralyze the spider that may have potentially been hiding somewhere on his body. I laughed harder. He stops running and rips his shorts off then keeps on going. That's right my friends, he is now running around our house boo-tay naked. I was laughing uncontrollably. I mean who wouldn't? My huge hulk of a husband is in his birthday suit freaking out over spiders in a kids movie. I guess me laughing made him mad. He kept saying "I'm serious. I'm so serious." in the most serious voice you can imagine.  Now I could not form words but for a different reason. He slightly calmed down and said there had been a REAL spider crawling on the birthday card. (Which I would like to point out was thrown in my face. Chivalry is dead people. ) I still couldn't take him seriously though. I just kept laughing. He dragged me into our room, still naked by the way, and guess what? There really was a spider! Sadly, poor Mr. Spider came to a tragic end. I, on the other hand, got to laugh until I cried and found out about my husband's arachnophobia. Thank you Harry Potter!

For immature audiences only...

Scott and I visited my sister in Washington D.C. for the Fourth of July. Needless to say, it was hot and crowded. ( I don't know why we expected anything else. The fourth is kind of a big deal.) We had a good time and Scott, an aspiring urologist, found a new hobby for when we travel. Take a look at the photos below to see for yourself.

Scott means no disrespect. He thinks the male, er...uh, organ to be a thing of beauty and should be depicted in art accordingly.

The Princess and The Pea

We all know the story of the princess and the pea. If for some reason your mother did not love you enough to share this story with you, here is a brief synopsis.

There was a prince and he wanted to marry a princess (the usual). Well, the prince searched far and wide but could not find the right princess (high standards). He came home from his search quite downtrodden. Later, on a stormy evening, a knock came from the door. The prince opened the door (of course, the butler had to be off).  There stood a girl, drenched with rain, who claimed to be a princess. Well, as these things usually happen, the prince was smitten. His mother, on the other hand, was not. The queen decided to test the "princess". The queen went and heaped a lot of mattresses (the exact amount is to be debated) on top of a pea. The queen knew only a true princess would be able to feel a pea under all those layers. The next morning the queen asked the princess how she slept. The princess said it was awful. The bed was so lumpy she was bruised (princesses are delicate you know). That was proof enough for the queen. Soon after, the prince and the princess were married and they lived happily ever after (this is also to be debated). The End.

My friends, I have a confession. I'm the princess. Yes, 'tis true. I mean, Sarah does mean princess in Hebrew so it's no wonder that I have princess tendencies.  Especially when it comes to my sleeping environment. They are as follows:

1.) Bed. It really has to be my bed. If not, I cannot, will not sleep well.
2.) Human contact. When Scott and I were first married I could not go to sleep with any body part of his touching me. I have actually gotten over this. But it is limited. A hand or a foot, but that's about it. 
3.) Darkness. I have to have complete darkness.
4.) Noise. I cannot have noise except from my fan. See number 6.
5.) Sheets. They have to be straight for me to get in the bed. I don't like twisted sheets.
6.) Fan. I have to have the noise of a fan. This is where it gets complicated folks. It can't be just any fan. My fans are held to high standards. It cannot click or make any repetitive noises. It has to be on low.  It cannot point at me ( I don't like wind in my face.) It has to be facing a certain direction. I can tell if it's not in the correct direction by the sound it's making.
7.) Pillow. It HAS to be my pillow. I also can only sleep on a certain corner of my pillow. Scott has tried to see if I really HAD to have my pillow and switched it out with his. I knew instantly. Don't mess with my pillow!

If any of these things have not come to pass the night before, the princess (that's me!), will have dark circles under her eyes and be very grouchy the next day. Some might say I'm neurotic. Well, probably most of you do. I'm sure any guy that's reading this is thanking sweet baby Jesus that they didn't hitch their wagon to mine. It takes a special guy to deal with a Hunter gal. (That's another blog in itself.) Thankfully, I found that special guy who can deal with my "princess-ness" aka my neurosis. So, what are you supposed to take away from this entry? Deep sympathy for Scott, I would think.

Living with Scott

OK. For those of you that don't know Scott and I live in a townhouse. It's a quite neighborhood with some students but mostly families.  The unit to the right of us has been empty ever since we moved in August 2010. A few months ago we found out that it had been foreclosed on. Well, Scott decided he was going to become a real estate tycoon and he was going to start with buying the place next door.  With what money and resources I don't know. Details, you know, just details.  That's the thing about Scott he can take the smallest thing and run with it. Definitely a dreamer. I'm the practical one or as my sisters would say a dream crusher. Anyway, he did some inquiring with a Realtor but we were told the details weren't available. They would contact us when they were.  The following Saturday I was bumbling around and noticed a few people walking up the sidewalk to the unit next to us. They went in with a Realtor. I called Scott into the room. We proceeded to peek out the window. (Yes, we are nosy neighbors.)   Scott was upset to say the least that the other Realtor hadn't gotten back with us. I was over it and was about to go about my business when Scott was like "No! This is not OK! I have to do something to stop them!" He then proceeded to stomp around our house screaming over and over "YOU"RE GOING TO HAVE LOUD NEIGHBORS! YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE LOUD NEIGHBORS!" I was mortified. I mean the only thing that was separating him from those people was a wall!  I tried to get him to stop but he just kept on going.  Scott then decided he wasn't being loud enough. He scooped me up for extra weight and continued galumphing around the house but this time with me slung over his shoulder! Needless to say they left fairly quickly. Scott thought it was hilarious. I can't say that I agreed. But let's face the facts if I hadn't married the fun loving little boy at heart that is Scott King, I would probably be (even more than I already am) a boring goody two-shoes. Oh and someone bought the house. Let's hope they can deal with loud neighbors.



Life Update- Scott finished his post baccalaureate program at Virginia College of Osteopathic Medicine (VCOM) last week. He starts medical school at VCOM August 1st. I had my last day of work at BB&T today and start at Stifel Nicolaus, an investment firm, this coming Monday. Lots of changes for Team King!