Broken...Again

For those of you who don't know, on Monday Joel had reconstructive ACL surgery on his left knee. He hurt himself pretty badly at his last soccer game of the season (and last game for a very long time, I'm guessing), but we would have never guessed he tore his ACL again. He tore his right one about 5 years ago and had to have reconstructive surgery, so hearing that it had happened yet again on his other knee was not a welcome surprise.

After waiting about 6 weeks since the injury, he went in to have surgery in Round Rock on Monday. While filling out the paperwork, ironically his name was Joel Godea. In our lives, incorrect spellings are just way more common than the correct ones. I just don't understand why it's SO HARD to copy directly from a driver's license.

Anyway, Joel was prepped for surgery and got to wear a cool purple robe with holes on the sides where they stick tubes blowing hot air to keep you warm. I thought that was pretty cool, along with his attractive blue hair net and one shaved leg. He was rockin' it on the way to the operating room.

After 3 long hours in surgery, the surgeon came out to tell me all was well. The surgery was a success, his hamstring graft had worked, and they were able to also repair his torn lateral meniscus. The surgeon even took pictures so I was able to see everything inside that was done. After about an hour in the recovery room and tons of drugs later, he was wheeled out and we were on our way home.

The past couple of days have had some ups and downs. He was incredibly nauseated the first night as a result of the anesthesia, but luckily was able to get past it and slept the majority of the time. The thing that was the most surprising was the amount of unexpected bleeding. His knee has tons of thick gauze on the incisions, plus rolled gauze around the leg, and an ace bandage on top of everything else. By the end of the night (sorry if this is TMI) the entire front of his bandages were soaked in blood. I could lightly touch his ace bandage and my fingers were covered in blood. This, on top of the fact that his face had absolutely no color, scared me to death. After spending time on the phone with the on call doctor that night, we decided to wait it out and check it in the morning. The next morning I spoke with his surgeon on the phone and we decided to go ahead and change his bandages. The amount of blood was insane, and so we decided to take a photo...which I will not share here to spare you. Luckily, his four incisions were bleeding much less and it looked like things were looking up. We cleaned up his staples and bandaged him up again.

Since then, our days have been spent icing, getting up every 3 hours to take drugs, and trying to get comfortable. He's still pretty drugged up but not having quite as much swelling as we expected, which is great so far. He can put a little bit of pressure on his leg while wearing his knee brace, so we're hoping that's a good sign for his recovery. I'm back at work today, and as I was leaving helped him break out the XBOX, so I'm hoping that's a good sign for things to come.

Thanks to everyone for your calls, emails, food and prayers. If you would please continue to pray as he spends the next few weeks in recovery and physical therapy, we would greatly appreciate it!

OCD Couple Stains Fence

Warning: The following post is long and rambling. It was written entirely for my benefit. In the future, if I ever so much as mention the idea of staining a fence, please direct me to this post and I will rethink the idea entirely.

Home ownership isn't always fun. There are definitely aspects of it that I wasn't prepared for, like yard work and the seemingly endless outdoor activities. Luckily, my husband enjoys yard work, so while he's outside mowing and edging the yard, I'll do my part inside... working super hard doing the laundry, picking up the enormous pile, walking all the way across the house to the laundry room with the overflowing pile in my arms, and putting it in the washing machine along with a cup full of laundry detergent. It makes me feel as if I'm doing my part while he's sweating away in the yard. Then I sit and play around on the computer until I hear the buzzer.

I don't always skimp on the yard work, though. A month or so ago, we took on what was likely the most annoying activity thus far in our year of home ownership. We decided to stain our fence, and thinking back to our experience makes me throw up a little.

So when it comes to picking out the perfect shade for our fence, any normal couple would go pick out a shade they like, come home, and paint the thing. If only it were so easy... a few weekends ago, on a Saturday morning, we got up to go to Lowes to pick out our perfect fence color. We found two that we liked, went ahead and bought a gallon of each (annoyingly enough, paint companies don't sell samples of stain). We came home with our two paint stains, went around back to a less noticeable area of the fence, and painted two different colors on one of the pickets. Joel looked over me with a puzzled look on his face... one of the stains was pumpkin orange! I'm a UT Ex through and through, but that doesn't mean I can have a burnt orange fence, unless it's Halloween all year round at the Goudeau household! The other stain slowly became dark red, resembling a bloody explosion on our fence. Ironically, neither of the pickets looked like the examples Lowes had on display.

We took our two gallons of paint back. However, this was just the beginning of a nightmare weekend. Throughout the rest of the weekend, we purchased (and returned) about 10 different stain colors from different stores. I was concerned that Sherwin Williams would no longer welcome our business after all was said and done... I wouldn't be surprised to see a DO NOT SELL TO THESE PEOPLE sign in our local Sherwin Williams, plastered with large, sweaty photos of yours truly. None of the stains turned out like we had hoped. We even went so far as to walk around the neighborhood and look for fences we liked, and then contemplated knocking on our neighbors' doors to ask what color stain they had used while awkwardly standing outside of their house. To prevent gaining a stalker reputation in our neighborhood, we decided against this plan.

This photo represents just a sampling of the many stains we contemplated throughout the weekend... verdict = OCD

In the end, we brought an extra fence picket with us to Sherwin Williams (don't laugh) and the awesome sales guy offered to paint a sample of all of the different colors they had on our picket. We were finally able to pick a stain! We finally found one that didn't turn out bright red, pumpkin orange, pee yellow, or another random color! We bought six gallons and returned home for the longest weekend ever.

Here is Joel with our extra picket of many colors. Jeremiah from Sherwin Williams totally hooked us up, and I have a feeling his day took a turn for the better when we left the store.

Between Saturday and Sunday, we spent 14 hours staining our fence. It just happened to be the hottest weekend ever. By the end of it, we were both completely sunburned, stinky, and covered in paint. It took me about a week to be able to bend down again (it's amazing how we take for granted the ability to sit on toilets and chairs, and more importantly return to the upright position).

Here are a few photos to document our weekend:

Back fence before staining. Notice the awesome Chinkapin tree we planted in the backyard last year. I hope we are still alive when it's climbable.

Joel staining. Note that this was taken pre-ACL tear.

Halfway there!

This photo is conveniently included to prove that my role encompassed more than just photographing the event.

I find this photo and my chosen wardrobe of the day to be ironic, given the circumstances.

14 hours later, the longest project ever was complete.

The other side complete. I also find it ironic that when comparing the before and after pictures, the roofs of not just one but TWO of the houses behind us were started and completed. Sad.

Is it also sad that throughout the course of this post, I realized that we took more photos during this project than we have throughout our first 16 months of marriage? We need to remedy that.

The Name Game

Hello, my name is Carl Gordo.

Well, according to most people, that is. I've struggled with name mispronunciations my entire life. It began as a child, and ironically has gotten worse as a married adult.

My first memory of name mix ups took place in 8th grade. I had made 1st chair flute in the Region Band, and I was so excited to go sit at my chair with my very own personalized folder. I sat down, pulled out my flute, adjusted my chair and reached up with a smile to open my very own folder. I was so let down when I read my name: CARL BILLINGSLEY. The instructor later admitted that he was disappointed to find out that I was a girl. He had been hoping for a talented male flute player to come along and prove the old female flute stereotype wrong... sorry to let you down, sir.

That was only the beginning of my alter ego, Carl. He frequently showed his face on my mail, newsletters, and orchestra programs. During my senior year of high school, I was so excited to receive my class ring. The much anticipated day had finally come, and I opened my ring box to find my beautiful new ring. It had a bright blue gemstone, showing my Leander pride. I turned the ring to each side to see the Leander Lion on one side and a music note on the other. As I was about to slip it on my finger, I turned it upside down to look at the inscription: Carl L. Billingsley.

Since then, I've become used to being called Carl. It is a little painful that the only person I've actually known named Carl was a stinky boy with warts on his hands in the 5th grade. It's also a little awkward when sitting in the waiting room at the gynecologist's office, and the nurse comes out and confusedly asks, "Carl?" I then get uncomfortable stares as I head back to the exam room, as the other patients wonder if I'm in the beginning stages of a sex change.

Unfortunately for me, Billingsley was never much better growing up. It seems that people give up after the first two syllables, resulting in Billingston, Billingsliye, Billinsky, or the ever popular Billings--*pause*--ugh. I always assumed I would marry someone with an easier last name than mine. Then, at least I could be Carl Smith, or Carl Johnson, rather than Carl Billingslugh. One incorrect name is better than two, right? Ironically, I married the one person with a more difficult last name than mine... Joel Goudeau.

Since becoming a Goudeau, I quickly learned that I cannot just tell someone my name, I actually have to spell it for them. My name is Cari... no, not Carrie, no, not Kerry, C-A-R-I... Goudeau, no don't even try to spell it yourself, G-O-U-D-E-A-U, no it's G-O-U...no, G-O-U ugh, whatever.

After our wedding, Joel and I went to Mexico for our honeymoon. We received a big welcome with a glass of champagne to the Gordo family upon arrival. When we went to get checks from the bank, we received checks for Joel and Cari Gondo. On the second try, it was Joel and Cari Gordo. Third time was a charm. Luckily, "Joel and Carl" never showed up on any of our checks.

I was inspired to write this blog after a particularly annoying visit to the doctor recently. After arriving, I signed in and sat down to wait my turn at the front desk. This doctor has annoyingly long wait times, so I brought a book to help pass the time. After a few minutes of reading, the following transpired:

Front Desk: "Mrs. Gondow?"

I continued reading, feeling sad for the person with the name Gondow.

Front Desk, louder this time: "Mrs. GONDOW."

I looked up and realized she was referring to me. I walked up and gave her my insurance card and she told me to have a seat. I returned to my book. After 10 minutes, I heard her again.

Front Desk: "Mrs. Gondeeay?"

I continued reading, thinking nothing of it. She repeated Gondeeay two more times, the last being very forceful. I looked up from my book to see what all of the commotion was about. Ironically, she was looking angrily at me. I hurried up to the front desk to pay my copay. She sarcastically stated that I needed to pay more attention because they were in a hurry and had a lot of patients to get to that day.

After returning to my seat, I waited for the nurse to call on me. Again, I returned to my book, hoping the appointment wouldn't take too long. The nurse opened the door.

Nurse: "Carl?"

I continued to read my book. This was not an OBGYN appointment, so it was very likely there was another Carl in the room. She then got another chart and called someone else. It was at that moment that I realized she had been calling me. This resulted in another 15 minute wait, and when she came back, she called for Carl again. Yours truly got up to go with her, and I felt the stares of many sad people who felt badly for the girl in the pink sweater named Carl, whose parents had obviously wished for a boy.

Then, the doctor comes in to see me. "Good morning, Mrs. Gordo."

I guess there's only so much you can do. From now on, we will happily answer to Joel and Carl Gordo. We'll just have to keep this problem in mind when we have kids. Maybe we should name them John and Jane?

The Haircut

I dread haircuts. I always go in with good intentions and high hopes, but I never go home feeling fulfilled. Usually I spend the next couple of months hoping that my hair will eventually grow to the length and style that I originally asked my hairdresser for.

I've been going to the same lady since the age of twelve. She's from Turkey, a little rough around the edges, and is quite possibly losing her mind. She came and did my bridesmaids' and my hair for our wedding last summer. I do think that afternoon would have been pretty relaxing if she hadn't been there. She was having fits, claiming that she was having heat strokes due to her recent onset of menopause and calling people in the wedding party to stand on chairs and check to make sure the A/C was working. It was super nice of her to do our hair and all, but a little too chaotic and melodramatic for me.

Since then, I've been on a quest to find a new hairdresser. I gave my Turkish, menopausal woman one more chance this past Fall, hoping for some semblance of sanity. After sitting at her shop for 2.5 hours just wanting a simple cut, which resulted in a mullet-esque hairdo that took several months to recover from, I realized that I had to move on...pronto.

It's not quite that easy, though. Cutting off your relationship with your hairdresser is not that different than ending a long-term relationship. There are feelings involved...and when your hairdresser is verging on the edge of insanity, you may become a little fearful for your life, checking in the rear view mirror for crazed drivers in luxury vehicles or hiding in the feminine products aisle at Walgreens when you think you just might see a crazed Turkish woman shopping for makeup just a couple aisles over.

Joel doesn't understand this weird relationship that occurs between a woman and her hairdresser. He has been telling me since we were dating that I needed to cut ties with this woman. But after 14 years of haircuts, it's just so hard to do, even when you know you have no choice. Really, she is a very talented lady, but when you have to reserve an entire afternoon at the salon for a simple cut, knowing that you're going to be forced to look at emails of Turkish photography and post-menopausal humor forwards, I guess it is finally time.

After getting a few recommendations from friends and coworkers for a new hairdresser, I finally decided to visit one in Cedar Park. Walking into the salon, I was convinced that this would be a great experience. Everyone was very professional and I was promptly ushered in to receive my complimentary shampoo. I met the new hairdresser, who dried my hair and asked what kind of cut I wanted. I showed her a photo of a female celebrity with a semi-cute cut and said that was the vibe I was going for. She rolled her eyes, stating, "I can't stand her. Are you sure?" I really don't think that having this haircut will cause me to embody the annoying traits of this girl, but whatever. I told her to continue with the cut, and more than anything to remove any of the remaining mullet tendencies that my hair was sporting.

TWO minutes later, yes two, she was done. I was a little unsure if she was finished, considering I was sitting in the chair with hair all over my face, no style whatsoever, and couldn't see anything at all (and I eerily resembled Cousin It). She simply stopped cutting and walked across the room. I peeked out of a tiny opening of hair in front of my eyes and called her over.

Me: "Are you finished?"

Her: "Yeah, is there a problem?"

Me: "Well, I just thought maybe you would style it a little."

Her: "Oh, do you not like it?"

I laughed. Oh wait, she was being serious.

Me: "Well, could you possibly give me some volume in the front. Or cut my bangs a little..."

Her: "You can just tuck that hair behind your ear."

At this point I considered rolling over and giving up. I would just go home and work on it myself, trying to salvage the cut if at all possible. But then I remembered all of the bad experiences I've had with hairdressers, and decided to press on, insisting that she fix this problem.

Me: "What do you think about side bangs? They look cute on the girl in the photo."

Her: "You have very straight hair, so it's not possible."

Me: "Really? Why?"

Her: "You wouldn't have enough volume to pull it off. Well there is one option. I could cut a row of tiny bangs under your longer bangs, like half an inch long, which would lift up the side bangs."

Me: "Tiny bangs? What if I want to put my hair in a ponytail?"

Her: "You can just carry gel with you and gel them back if you want to wear a ponytail."

But what if the wind blows...

I had had enough. No tiny bangs for me. She was clearly annoyed that I dismissed her, telling me that I would eventually learn to trust her. Although that's not true at all, because I can guarantee that I won't be going back for my second dose of tiny bangs. I was charged a whopping $80 for my two minute haircut, and as I was led out the door she muttered that I needed to come back for a color soon because my haircolor was not flattering at all. Oh well, she can take that up with God.

In retrospect, I guess I shouldn't have expected too much. I've accompanied Joel to his haircuts before, and his haircuts have lasted much longer than two minutes, and were only about $15. I don't think he's ever been offered tiny bangs. I might have to check out this much more budget friendly option in the future. For now, I'm sporting my new haircut, although I really don't think it looks like anything was ever done to my hair. I guess that's better than a Turkish mullet?

My Life Lately

I have been inspired to update this blog. My life experiences have been so exciting and adventurous lately that I just couldn't resist. To add to that, my work is dull today so there really is nothing else to do but update this pitifully forgotten thing.

Experience #1 - Adventures in Grace

No, it's not what you're thinking. I'm talking balance, poise, ballerina-like grace. Apparently it's not a gift that I was given. If you've ever seen my mother bumbling around while showing lots falling out the door of a house for sale, then you shouldn't surprised by my lack of coordination (sorry, Mom). I've always struggled in this area, but this week has been especially painful...literally.

Monday, I'm walking out the door of my office to my car, and 5 feet later I'm sitting on the ground. I turn around to see what caused my fall, and of course there is absolutely nothing there. To make matters worse, I'm sitting on the ground in front of my boss's window. To make matters even more worse, someone drives by and honks at me.

Tuesday, I'm walking out the door of my office to my car, and as I cross my butt print from the previous day, I say to myself, "Please don't fall down again... the car is only a few feet away." Seconds later, I've crashed and burned again, just a few feet away from my previous glorious moment. The positive - I made it a little further this time, so I didn't fall on the ground in front of my boss's office. The negative - someone drove by and honked at me.

The rest of the week has been a repeat of this. No, I haven't managed to fall outside the office again (I actually had a very graceful moment yesterday, running to my car in the pouring rain). I did manage, however, to fall off the curb into the street while bringing in the trash can yesterday. Luckily we don't live on a busy street.

Experience #2 - Adventures in Sexism

This experience has continued to bother me for the majority of this week. I've had my fair share of sexist experiences in the workplace. At my last job, I worked in procurement for a structural engineering research lab. As expected, most of the people I worked with were men (all but one other woman... well, two other women, but I'm still unsure if the latter was really female). We were organizing a football game for the current engineering students and alumni. My boss at the time casually suggested, "I think you should dress as a cheerleader for the game to cheer us all on." This comment was made only a few days after he walked in to my office, saw my business casual outfit for the day (black pants, blouse, and closed-toe shoes), and commented, "You know, I really think you ought to start wearing pretty, summery dresses to work and brighten things up around here a bit."

Enough dwelling on the past. I really thought sexism in the workplace would be dead by now. At my university, I wouldn't have been surprised if a sexist remark resulted in a riot, followed by bra burning and quite possibly the sacrifice of an innocent male student. But many 50-year old men didn't get the equal treatment memo, as proven by my previous employer and the lovely character I'm about to tell you about.

I work in a real estate and development office for a large, master-planned community in my city. Many of the people who come to meet with our developer have fat wallets and even fatter egos. Case in point - the other day I was working at my desk when one of these characters came in for a meeting. He went back to our conference area and was looking for something to drink. As he was looking a bit confused, I went over to see if I could help him with something.

"Could you make me a Jack and Coke?" I just stared at him, thinking to myself, sorry, I'm not a bartender. He continued, "Oh, you probably haven't ever met my friend Jack." Nope, I've been living under a rock for the past 26 years. Never heard of him. "I guess I'll just get a coke then. But could you get me a koozie or something?" Are you kidding me?

I proceed to get him his koozie (which, ironically, we happened to have thanks to a local vendor dropping some off the day before. At the time, I had scoffed at them, thinking nobody would actually use one...). He went off to his meeting, and returned an hour later. "I think you know what to do with this." He hands me his drink, koozie and all, almost completely full. More than anything, it's the way he said it... "I think you know what to do with this." Now what exactly does that mean? Apparently I look like a trash can. You had better stay away from UT, koozie man! Well, except for the structural engineering lab... you can all drink your Jack and Cokes together in unity and dump the extra on the lone, remaining woman...

Experience #3 - Adventures in Travel

-------*crickets*--------

Hmmm, so not much by way of travel lately. Joel and I have been meaning to take some sort of trip for quite some time. So we're planning a little getaway for Labor Day weekend. I'm not entirely sure what all we're doing yet, but we're going to be in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area. My expectation for this blog is that I'll write about our trip by Christmas. Don't hold your breath, though!

Six Months Later...

I was afraid this would happen. I've started up a blog, and haven't updated it since Christmas. I'm seriously slacking on this blogging thing.

We have, however, had two exciting arrivals since December - 2 new nieces! Gabriella was born on March 10th (Jonathan & Jessica's little girl):

Adelyn was born on May 2nd (Jared & April's little girl):

It's been exciting to meet these two! I can't wait to see them grow up. We'll be adding another family member on the Billingsley side in July when Reg & Andrea's little girl, Lila, is born. Three new baby girls in five months! Exciting times for our families.

Joel and I will be celebrating our one year anniversary next weekend. I can't believe it's already been a year! It's been an amazing year, and it's flown by quickly. Hopefully I'll get better at blogging and post again before our two year anniversary!

Christmas '08

It's sort of bittersweet to me that Christmas is over. This Christmas has been fun... we've really enjoyed spending time with friends and family. But it's also exciting to look forward with anticipation to the new year.

This Christmas started out with Joel's Christmas party at work. It was held at a hotel downtown, and everyone dressed up and went to the party for a night of interesting entertainment. The show began with a former TG employee-turned-comedian. I don't know if our standards were too high, being friends with Austin's Funniest Person and all, but seriously... this TG comedian was pretty bad. And then it was followed by the Austin Idol winner, who also happens to work at TG. Who knew Joel's company was so talented? The ironic thing is that while she won Austin Idol, she didn't even make it to see the judges in the actual American Idol competition... But luckily for us, the night took an upward swing after that. They had a casino set up and the rest of the night was fun with good food, dancing, and music. But the highlight of our night was at the very end. We knew going into this party that the big door prize at the end of the night was a Nintendo Wii. Joel and I had hoped that we would win it, but the likelihood of winning a random drawing in a company of 700 employees seemed pretty slim. Crazy enough, they drew Joel's name!

Needless to say, we've spent a lot of our Christmas break playing the Wii in between family events. I think Bailey's a little tired of it. I caught this funny shot of her while Joel was playing Zelda one afternoon.

Close up shot of the dog... she hasn't yet grasped modesty

Our next Christmas party was with my girlfriends. Five of us (minus Rachel, whose husband had mono) planned a Christmas party at Kelly's new house in Cedar Park. It was so much fun to get together again, and it is so great now that four of us live in the area. It was great to spend time together with the girls and with the husbands, act crazy, and play some fun games. I have to share a few pictures... some of them are pretty funny, and some I can't really explain.

The Girls

Group Shot

Funny Shot... I can't really explain what's going on in this photo. Haha.

For some reason at our last girls' reunion we started a tradition of serious photos. Totally odd, but funny.

This photo is awesome... obviously Joel didn't get the "serious" memo, I look pretty angry, and the rest of the girls can't hold it together. Priceless.

The night before Christmas with the Billingsleys my girl cousins and I went out for a nieces' night with my Aunt Teresa. We've been doing this for as long as I can remember, and we had a lot of fun, going to Threadgills and the Rockin' Christmas Party down at the Zachary Scott Theater after that. To make it even more entertaining, the girl sitting next to me was completely drunk, so it was quite the experience. She kept looking at me and saying, "Is this your first time??? I'm SOOO happy for you!!!" Yes, I think my life has been forever changed. You never know what you'll get in Austin!

We spent the week of Christmas visiting my dad's side of the family, Joel's family, and my mom's parents. There are too many photos to add here, but it was a great time all around. Some of the highlights include our funny White Elephant exchange at the Billingsley Christmas (which ended with Joel taking home tickets to the UT-A&M basketball game next month...woohoo!), Maddie's piano recital, Mexican Train (probably the most I've ever laughed during dominoes), our nieces and nephew acting out the Christmas story at Joel's parents' house (which is pretty funny when you're working with kids under 5), and lots of great food and desserts. My mom's parents getting into Wii Bowling was pretty great, too! Here's a photo of my new hairstyle from Kinley. Not sure if I can pull it off or not...

We are definitely looking forward to 2009 and the many memories that will be made. I am excited about starting graduate school and the new experiences that will come with that. I do ask for prayers on behalf of my granddaddy, who is going in for surgery in the morning. He was in the hospital with congestive heart failure all last week, even on Christmas, and I can only say that his recovery was nothing short of miraculous. We are so grateful that he is still with us, and will have him on our hearts in the morning as he goes in for surgery.

Happy New Year to everyone!