Category Archives: Yale

I’m Showered

Yesterday my office threw me a baby shower.  It was my first shower (not counting the non-shower that Chris threw me a few weeks ago) and it was awesome.  I usually love showers anyways, even if they aren’t for me.  I love picking out a gift and having it wrapped.  I love eating bite-sized food on little plates.  I love games where adults are encouraged to dress like babies in diapers.  Its all one big ball of fun to me.  But when the shower is for YOU?  Well, that just takes it to a whole new level of fun!

It was kind of strange though to be at a baby shower and look around and think, “Oh my gosh.  All of this is because I’M the one whose going to have the baby this time!  This is for MY baby!”  It was a little surreal, I have to say.

But I moved past that nostalgia real quick when the bruschetta was served.  Food can move me through many emotions.

This is me at the gift table, taking The Seat of Honor.  Let the present opening begin, Ladies!

Hello, Gift Table

Hello, Gift Table

(NOTE:  When I sit down, I look a little more like Jabba the Hut than I do a pregnant lady.  Everything compacts when you sit down.  Like a fat suit that gets squished up around your neck.  Its really attractive.  Just squint your eyes a little and you can kind of see the pregnant thing…)

Ridiculously Overpriced Plush Monkey

Ridiculously Overpriced Plush Monkey

I got a million Johnson & Johnson bath sets, which prompted me to ask the group, “So babies are pretty dirty, huh?”  I swear, all the ladies in my office think I know nothing about raising a baby.  Geez.  A girl can’t identify one box of bottle liners and suddenly everyone fears for the baby’s life…

Ugly Baby (no really, that's its name)

Bath Gift Set

Only at a baby shower would something like a SuperMan Wee Wee Tee Pee be acceptable to hold up in front of a bunch of women that you work with.  For those of you who don’t know, a Wee Wee Tee Pee is this little hat for the baby’s…well…wee wee.  You cover him up when you’re changing his diaper so that you don’t get peed on.  Which apparently is a fairly common occurrence.  These are grown, professional women who walk up to you in all seriousness and say things like, “I just can’t live without my Wee Wee Tee Pee.”

Pee Pee Tee Pee

Wee Wee Tee Pee

Lovely Ladies

Lovely Ladies

More presents!  More presents!

More presents! More presents!

When I got home, I spent the night surrounded in baby things.  It was awesome.  I had towels, washcloths, soap (I told you babies are messy…), blankets, outfits, toys, bottles, stuffed monkeys, and the all important butt paste.  I think the fat lady can sing when the butt paste comes out at an office party.

The Loot

The Loot

One tired, happy mommy

One tired, happy mommy



Filed under pregnancy, Yale

The Greatest Little Love Story Ever Told

Chris popping the question at Rockefellar Center

Chris popping the question at Rockefellar Center

Now, I don’t like to brag, but my husband is pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread.  We’ve been together since we were 16 – this April it will be 10 years – and we’ve been married for almost four years.  Over time, I have learned that I can definitely live without Chris, but I would never want to.

When we were 16, Chris used to drive us around in this hot little baby blue 1967 convertible Mustang that he and his Dad restored.  It was beautiful.  I’ll never forget what it felt like to see that car pull up to my house when I was in high school.  He parked it on the street right in front of my bedroom.  I’d see his car pull up and I’d go running to the front door and watch him walk across the yard up to my house.  I have butterflies just remembering that.  I also remember that the car had a hole in the passenger floorboard that Chris kept covered with a mat so I wouldn’t get scared.  And the car didn’t have defrost, so when it rained my job was to take a towel and constantly wipe the windshield so that Chris could see to drive.  I remember being all dressed up for Prom one year in a beautiful dress, working up a fierce sweat trying to keep that damn windshield clean.  But it was worth it just to see Chris drive that car.

I remember when we were in high school, we worked at the same restaurant.  I worked as a hostess at the big tourist restaurant and Chris was a quick order cook at the smaller branch down the road that mostly served locals.  One morning my family had breakfast there and when the waitress brought our order out, Chris had put a red rose on my plate.  He used to smell God awful after he was done with a shift.  Like sweat and grease (and sometimes beer).  And after every late night shift, he would come by my house first.  He was always wearing a white undershirt, having shed his clothes because of the sweat and heat.  His shirt was always stained and he always smelled, but I’d hear him tap on my window and I’d go let him in the front door to say goodnight.  He wouldn’t stay long, usually long enough to talk about our days and to say goodnight.  I knew that 9 times out of 10, he was going to meet another girl at a party somewhere when he left my house.  That was just how he was.  But I also knew that he never said goodnight to any other girl, and somehow that made it okay.

I remember the day he left for college.  He applied late – a last minute decision that was probably the best he ever made – and so the only way he was accepted was for the summer term.  I wasn’t leaving until the fall.  We decided months before that we would go to different colleges.  We’d had a rocky relationship in high school (but doesn’t everyone?), and we weren’t stupid enough to believe that we could possibly make it through college.  We would go to different schools and the agreement was that we would date long distance until one of us met someone else.  When we met someone, we had to tell the other person and that would be it.  No hard feelings.  More than anything, we were both realists.  So that Saturday morning that he left, I thought it was the end.  I remember feeling stupid that I was crying in front of his family.  We were only in high school.  Surely I looked silly.  But it hurt so much to say goodbye to him.  He hugged me and kissed me, but his family was around and so it was a rushed goodbye.  And then he drove away.  He was driving a new car, better equipped for the 5 hour drive to college, and his Mustang was parked in his driveway.  I remember thinking that Chris and I had no better chance of making it than that Mustang would have had.  And so I got in my car and drove home.  As I pulled out of his neighborhood, there was Chris.  Parked on the side of the road.  Waiting for me.  One more hug.  It would be our real goodbye.

But it wasn’t our goodbye.  It wasn’t even close.  I spent the majority of my college years on Highway 75 driving to see Chris on the weekends.  We tried to see eachother at least twice a month.  Usually I went to see him because he had technical rehearsals and shows to run, but I didn’t mind.  I remember several Friday nights when I wasn’t scheduled to go see Chris and I’d get a phone call from him at 9 or 10:00 at night telling me that in 3 hours I could be on his front porch.  That’s all it took.  I’d grab an overnight bag, throw Lucy in the car, leave a note for my roommates and head down to Orlando.  Sometimes it was Chris that was unscheduled.  I would be coming home from work and I’d get a phone call on my cell.  Chris was here. Or I’d pull into my apartment complex and there would be his car.  One time he came into town to surprise me, but I had plans to babysit that night.  So, Chris went out to eat with my two Meathead roommates to our favorite Mexican restaurant.  By 7:00 when I got done babysitting, Chris, Neal, and Jay were so wasted on pitchers of margaritas that they passed out before I even got to kiss Chris hello.  I don’t think he realized where he was until Saturday morning when he woke up in my apartment.

While we were in college, Chris was really excelling in his studies.  He was teaching classes as an undergraduate to his peers.  He was taking one on one private classes with a few of his professors, he was the first student to ever be a technical director at the University of Central Florida.  For the show that he was technical director for he needed steel to bend to build the set.  But steel benders were expensive, and his public university would never have been able to afford one.  So Chris made one himself out of an elaborate pulley system.  And he published the machine design in the Yale University Technical Journal.  A few weeks later, the editor of the journal called Chris and asked him to come to Yale for graduate school.  I was at Chris’ apartment in Orlando when his formal acceptance letter arrived from Yale.  Two weeks earlier I had been accepted to law school in Florida, my life long dream.  But I knew the minute he opened that envelope.  I knew when his face brightened and his eyes teared up.  I knew when he smiled.  His dream was bigger than mine, and I knew I would follow him anywhere he needed to go to achieve it.  I pretended for the sake of my family that the decision to forgo law school to move to Connecticut was a hard one, but there was never a doubt in my mind.  I would go to Connecticut with Chris.

And I did.  We moved to Connecticut the summer that we were married.  I remember our first trip up to New Haven after his acceptance.  We were looking for an apartment.  We had $2,000 saved, and we thought we were rich.  A few days later after putting first and last months rent down as a deposit, we were poor again.  But we were so proud of ourselves.  We moved in a few months later and Chris started school that September.  I worked in the legal field for one more year, thinking I would apply again to law school in Connecticut.  But after a few applications were submitted, I made the decision to withdrawal my applications.  I didn’t want to go to law school.  Instead, I found a position at Yale and decided to change my career path to higher education administration.  In Chris’ third year of school, I started my own Masters part-time while working full-time.  He finished in May.  I finished in August.  We moved into our new house in June.  In early October of this year over a sushi dinner with Chris I had a passing thought out of the blue that maybe I was pregnant.  One pregnancy test and 3 months later, here we are.

This morning Chris came in to say goodbye to me before he left for work like he does every morning.  I was still sleeping, but I woke up and kissed him goodbye like I do every morning.  And then, just as he was closing the bedroom door shut behind him, he turned and stuck his head back in room.  “Call me today if you hear anything from your doctors about the Bean.”  He closed the door behind him, and suddenly I was 16 years old again, laying in my bedroom, listening to Chris drive away after coming to kiss me goodnight.  In high school, that had been the perfect ending to so many days for me.  And now, it was the perfect beginning of so many exciting things to come.

It isn’t an extraordinary story.  We aren’t extraordinary people.  We haven’t experienced extraordinary things.  But I know that he loves me and that I love him and that nothing in my life would be possible if it weren’t for him standing next to me.  Sometimes when we’re cuddled up in our pjs and socks and surrounded by our dogs and everything is perfect I ask him why he loves me.  He never has an answer.  He always says, “I don’t know.  I just do.”  I used to give him a hard time.  What a lame answer to such an important question.  But when I think about it, there is really no other possible answer to that question.  I don’t know why we love eachother.  I don’t know why I laugh in the middle of yelling when we are fighting.  I don’t know why when I pull into my driveway at night and see Chris’ car parked I still feel those same butterflies I felt in high school and his blue Mustang pulled up in front of my house.  I don’t know why when I see ultrasound pictures of our baby, I can already see Chris’ nose and chin and ears.

I don’t know why our love story is still being written, but I can’t wait to see what the next chapter is about.

Chris and Lucy

Chris and Lucy

The CHRIStmas Elf

The CHRIStmas Elf









Filed under Changes, Family, Husbands, Jobs and Careers, Marriage, moving, pregnancy, Yale

Shuttles and Such

In one week I will be moving away from New Haven, and will have to begin driving to work everyday.  For the past three years, I have been lucky enough to walk to work everyday because we live so close to campus.

Okay, that’s a lie.  We do live incredibly close to campus, but at least once a week I still drive the whole 4 blocks, part on the street, get a $20 ticket, which turns into a $40 ticket because I hide it from Chris and then forget to pay it on time.  It’s a mess.  I’m lazy.  Let’s move past it.

Anyway, I finally went down to the parking office and got myself a shiny parking space on campus.  The problem is that is is really far from my building, but according to the very talkative woman at the parking office, its a “humdinger” of a lot because the shuttles run there so frequently.  I’m serious.  That was her word.  Humdinger.

So yesterday I decide that I’ll test out this shuttle situation and see how I do, so I drive to my parking spot in the morning, park, and lo’ and behold – a shuttle magically appears the minute I shut my car door!  I jump on, and it drops me right in front of my building about 10 minutes later.  Couldn’t be easier.

And then came the afternoon.  I feel the activities of yesterday afternoon are best described in a schedule format, as follows:

4:15 PM     I leave my office and head to the shuttle stop.

4:20 PM     Shuttle drives up.  Everyone I am standing with gets on the shuttle.  Me, too.  I tend to go with the majority in new situations.

4:45 PM     The shuttle makes an unexpected turn at an intersection and instead of heading towards the north side of campus where my car is parked, heads towards the south side of campus where there are medical buildings and other things that are not familiar to me.  Its an area where a handgun would be more of an asset than a handbag.

5:00 PM     It is now clear to me- 40 minutes later – that I have gotten on the wrong shuttle.  I am in the middle of a part of town that does not look the slightest bit familiar to me.

5:05 PM     The last person leaves the shuttle and its just me sitting in this old city bus.  The driver yells back to me, “Did you miss your stop?”  “No,” I reply.  “I think I got on the wrong shuttle.”  The bus driver sighs and tells me she’ll drop me back where I started.

5:15 PM     I am dropped at my original boarding site.

5:20 PM     A co-worker finds me and physically places me on the correct shuttle.

5:30 PM     I arrive at my car.

TOTAL TIME ELAPSED:  1 hour and 15 minutes

I have a new found respect for commuters today.  It takes coordination, dedication, and perseverance to park, ride, and shuttle.  I’m a changed woman.  Today, I salute you, Commuters of America.  Because its a hell of a lot harder than it looks!!


Filed under Changes, Jobs and Careers, New Haven, Random, Yale

The Interview From Hell

I don’t usually blog about my professional career because of confidentiality. Well, confidentiality and the fact that when I leave my office I like to think about rainbows and butterflies instead of spreadsheets and organizational charts. But I feel that I need to break this rule in order to purge my mind of the horrific mistakes I made today at work.

I had a job interview for an internal position at my university. The position is quite honestly my current dream job. I say current because I don’t believe in that crap about having life-long dreams. Dreams should be something you work to obtain and so they shouldn’t stay dreams for too long. They should eventually become realities. So, I have short-term dreams in my life and this job is one of them. The thing about this position is that it is several steps above where I am currently in my profession, so I wasn’t expecting to even be within spittin’ distance (sorry, there’s them Southern roots showing through again…) of the dream any time soon.

I threw a resume out there several months ago and thought, “If it happens, it happens.” And then I prayed like the dickens, thought about it every day, and generally obsessed about it for three months. Miraculously, the education gods had a sense of humor and I received a call to interview last week. My interview was by phone today.

I was thrown off by two different things. First, the interview was by phone. As if first impressions aren’t hard enough. And secondly, there is a search committee of people for this position. That’s right. Not only do I need to make a stellar first impression OVER THE PHONE, but I have to impress a group of 7 people – including 4 deans and a representative from the University President’s office. Because of the whole phone thing, I couldn’t read anyone’s reactions to anything. It was like Russian Roulette. I could have been saying the most brilliant, mindblowing things ever to come across the Yale University campus, and I would never had known. Or, and more likely, I could have been saying the most ignorant load of crap ever uttered and I still would have had no idea. So I just closed my eyes and forged ahead – talking a mile a minute. Add to this my incredible anxiety about interviewing with a search committee for my dream job, and you have the recipe for a genuine train wreck.

To put it as mildly as possible, it was horrific. In a 15-minute period, I managed to call myself a racists (which I am completely not even anywhere close to being) and I bashed the technology usage of Yale University.

This is precisely how you want your first interview to go.

I like to usually have a moral, lesson, or snidbit of information for you readers to take away when you read my blog. So, here’s today’s lesson. When interviewing for a position that you are not qualified for, but for which you dream of acquiring, try taking a few shots of Jim Beam before you meet your search committee. This might make you sleepy and everyone knows that falling asleep in the middle of an interview is much preferable to calling oneself a racist and bashing the position you are interviewing for. Alternatively, scratch the Jim Beam and just abandon all your dreams completely. Learn to be content with someone else’s name on the letterhead as you work towards someone else’s strategic plan.

And if neither of these solutions works for you, and you find that you stubbornly hold on to your dreams and refuse to compromise your moral integrity by drinking before noon on a business day, then climb aboard my bandwagon and we’ll just sabotage our careers together. Sounds like fun…


Filed under Changes, Jobs and Careers, Yale

Them’s Fightin’ Words

I have found recently that the price you pay for new things in your life is new things to fight about with your husband. Chris and I honestly don’t fight that often, and when we do it lasts about 2.7 seconds and then we buy each other ice cream and move on. We both have thick skin, but more importantly, we both know that the best way for us to deal with things is to just say whats eating on us and then duke it out for a few rounds and move on. And eat ice cream.

We’ve talked about it before and we both think this comes from doing long distance for four years while we were in college. When your primary source of communication is a cell phone with crappy service, you learn to be clear, concise, and honest. Its hard to play head games when you’re on a cell phone. Try being coy or aloof when your cell phone battery is beeping in your ear because your battery is about to die. So very, very UNdramatic. We’ve learned that when something is bothering us, its much faster to just say what the problem is. And, lets face it, we’re lazy people. Putting it all out there just takes so much less effort than trying to craft elaborate games of “guess why I’m mad today…”

Lately though, there just seems to be more topics for debate. It started small. I wanted a nice neutral living room color. Chris wanted hooker red. This week, its gotten progressively bigger. If I were writing a book about our marriage and needed to title this chapter, I would call it “Adjusting Our Routine: Life After Chris’ Employment.” Chris, however, would title it, “Pay Attention to Me, Dammit!”

For three years, I have been the wife of a Yale graduate student. I learned right away that rather than get mad at his schedule and lack of free time, I should just find something else to do. True, this something else was sometimes throwing pennies at him while he worked for hours on his thesis. Nevertheless, I learned to keep myself entertained. That actually was 90% of the reason I got my own masters degree. I thought, “I can either do yoga every afternoon while I wait for graduation day, or I can work on something productive that I can use the rest of my life.” I made girlfriends to have dinner with and go see movies. I went shopping. I started this blog. I learned to bake (sort of).

In the last week, though, these things that have been part of my routine for three years are suddenly really pissing Chris off! A few nights ago, he was watching TV so I played online in our office for a while. Chris kept walking into the office and just standing there, then walking out again. Finally, he made some snide remark about how I wasn’t spending any time with him. Then, he came home yesterday from work and found me taking a nap. I had been home for a while and knew we were going out with friends later, so I took a load off for a while. Everyone knows I prefer to sleep over doing laundry. That’s no secret and nothing new. But Chris walked into the bedroom and looked disgusted. It was like he had caught me eating Chunky Monkey out of the carton in a closet somewhere. This time his snide comment was along the lines of, “I’m home. Get up.”

He’s like many of the elementary kids who are getting for the summer. He’s been looking forward to not being in school for so long, but now that it is here and he has all this free time, he’s bored and he’s looking for trouble. And since his little sister lives 2,000 miles away in Orlando and since I’m almost positive SHE could actually beat HIM up, he’s decided he’ll pick on me instead.

Yesterday, after chastising me for taking a nap (the nerve!) he decides to accuse me of not paying any attention to him. Oh brother. Here we go. So I yell back to him (as politely as possible, of course, because I’m nothing if I’m not a lady…) “MY LIFE DOESN’T STOP JUST BECAUSE YOU GET A JOB!” And you can pretty much tell how things went from that point. As we are going round for round on this one, Chris is turning on the shower and getting ready to get in because we are going to a friend’s house for dinner. So, he closes the door on me and gets undressed and gets in the shower. End of discussion. I pace around the house fuming for a few minutes and then suddenly I throw open the bathroom door and yell at my poor, naked, soapy husband, “AND ANOTHER THING…”

Ladies and gentlemen, please refrain from attacking your spouse in combat when either of the parties is naked. It tends to take the fire out of your argument a bit.

Like usual, in the short time it took Chris to put some clothes on, we were over the argument and packing a beer cooler to take to dinner. I’m fairly positive that this little incident will come back a few more times in the next few months, but I’m also fairly positive the naked thing was the low point, so that’s good news. Better to just get the low point out of the way right off the bat.

What can I say though? Fightin’ words are just part of relationships. We say them, own up to them, apologize for them, and move on. But, just between you and me, I will fight to the death before I allow hooker red walls to be painted in my living room.


Filed under Around the House, Changes, Jobs and Careers, Marriage, Yale

He Graduated!

After 3 years of grad school, I am so proud to say that Chris has finally graduated from the Yale School of Drama! WOO HOO!!! I have ever been more proud of anyone in my entire life. And to make this time even more special for him so many special people showed up to support him throughout the weekend. Other than my own wedding day, I have never felt so much love in one place before. Family and friends really went above and beyond to rain down love on both Chris and me this weekend. I think that is what I will remember the most from this incredible weekend.

We had 17 people in town to celebrate with us. Chris and I had a very strict schedule planned for the weekend in order to keep things moving along smoothly, and it went incredibly well.

Friday night, Chris’ Mom and her boyfriend, Charles, Chris’ sister, Annie, and my family all got into town. We went out to dinner for pizza and enjoyed being with the smallest group of people we’d have all weekend.

On Saturday, we took the entire crew who had all arrived in town (17 people total) to New York for the day. The original plan was that we would all split up and do our own thing in smaller groups and then just meet up for dinner. But when I mentioned taking my side of the family to China Town, everyone decided to go! We took the entire crew (minus two who decided to go all athletic on us and walk the Brooklyn Bridge!!) to China Town and we didn’t lose one single person. Personally, I contribute this to excellent planning by the event coordinator (that would be yours truly) but instead I think it might be because it was so darn crowded you could only move about 3 ft. per 5 minutes. Its hard to loose people when they are morphed together by small, Chinese people.

That night for dinner we went to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants in the Theater District, Angus McIndoe (if you go, try the salmon with apple stuffing – WOW!). A few friends from New York joined us for dinner and let me tell you – the wine was flowing. We had a wonderful, alcohol-induced love fest. By the end of the night we were all friends. Didn’t matter that we were technically three different families. Didn’t matter that several of us were divorced or in a family world war. That night we were all there for Chris and you really felt that at the table.

Once we got back into New Haven on Sunday, we spent the day walking around the campus and showing the family where and what we’ve been doing for the past three years. And then, of course, on Monday was THE DAY. I think the pictures speak for themselves. Can you see the relief in mine and Chris’ face?

Granddaddy and Grandma Brown, Chris, and me

My sister, Ginny, Me, Chris, and Chris’ sister, Annie

Chris with my family

Chris, his sister, his mom, and me

OUR Family

It was a perfect weekend. And I can’t tell you how relieved that Chris and I feel. It literally feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. While the weight of Chris going through school wasn’t on me, there was the constant pressure of being the only source of income, of wondering what would come next for us, of being chained to an academic schedule. I was really surprised how much pressure I was feeling. I didn’t realize it truly until this weekend when the weight lifted. I was almost lightheaded at some points.

And I cried. I told you that I would. I couldn’t help it. Chris looked so handsome in his cap and gown, and Yale is just so regal and majestic in their traditions that seeing Chris walk through gates that have seen over 300 graduating classes before, well, it would make anyone cry. But what happy tears!

I tell you something. I have sometimes thought about writing a book about mine and Chris’ relationship – something similar to what this blog is but the full story, starting all the way back when we were 15 years old. And while there are many reasons that this idea is truly a pie-in-the-sky thought, the most significant reason I can’t write this book is because stories are supposed to have ups and downs. There are supposed to be conflicts and resolutions. Fall outs and make ups. Fairy tales always have a dragon or evil queen in them, but so far Chris and I have just been blessed with roses and rainbows. I keep expecting a poisoned apple to fall in our paths, but we’ve been witch-free for 3 years. Now this doesn’t mean we don’t have our hang-ups and breakdowns. But we’ve weathered them, lived through them, learned from them, and moved on. I’m so full of happiness right now that I can’t wait to jump into the next phase of our lives. A new house! Chris’ new job! Maybe a baby eventually? Whatever that next phase is, I’m so ready for it.


Filed under Changes, Family, Jobs and Careers, Marriage, New Haven, Yale

Disney World and the Ivy League

This weekend is Yale’s Commencement weekend.  Aside from weddings, Chris, and s’mores, graduations are just about my most favorite thing in the world.  I love them.  All those people there to celebrate the hard work that people have put into their degrees – just makes me happy inside.  And it makes me cry.  I’m a crier at graduations.  I’ll cry even if I don’t know anyone whose graduating.  I once cried at a televised graduation ceremony for some college out in Arizona (it was on Oprah).  They just make me so darn happy.  And with this one being Chris’ graduation, celebrating all the hard work he has done for three years…well…I’m tearing up just blogging about it!

Anywho – for Yale, Commencement is the be all end all of ceremonies.  As you might imagine, pomp and circumstance were actually born here on the Yale campus.  Ivy leagues love them traditions, and what is more traditional than a bunch of (drunken) students parading through 100 year-old gates and lawns in capes and funny hats?  I mean, it just screams, “I love argyle!”

The most amazing part of the Yale Commencement weekend to me though is the week BEFORE the Yale Commencement weekend.  You know how at Disney World everything looks perfect to the point where its like your on a movie set?  That’s how Yale is during Commencement weekend!  Take, for example, the large area of dirt that has been on the lawn near my office for months now.  They are doing construction there so the lawn has been non-existent.  This morning, I went into my office and there was dirt there.  This afternoon I came out at lunch and sod had been laid, flowers had been planted.  There was even a tree standing there.  And its like that all over campus.  Suddenly, potholes that have tormented my car all year are filled.  Flower beds are full and blooming.  Grass is green and luscious.  Pathways and walkways are cleaned and lined with stone.  And all of this within about a 24 hour period.  It’s incredible.  I expect to run into Belle or Snow White any minute now.  I feel like I should break out in song.

I wish I could be cynical about it – “Ivy Leagues are so pretentious they need even their grass to be perfect” or “Looks like money can even buy a blooming tree.”  But I just can’t do it.  If Chris has to dress up like Merlin, then what’s wrong with a little magic on the campus this time of year?

Comments Off on Disney World and the Ivy League

Filed under Marriage, New Haven, Random, Yale