the rules of fighting

Play nice.

I'm a horrible fighter. I can be mean, sarcastic, condescending - name a bad adjective, and it probably describes me when I'm fighting. To make matters worse and more upsetting, I have a temper. A bad, passionate, Italian temper. It's demoralizing and hurtful - to the person with whom I'm fighting and to myself. I leave some arguments feeling sad and dejected, not proud of how I handled it.

My mom fights like that. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. When I was a pre-teen and teenager, she would explode in anger. She would yell, then cry, then yell again, then cry, until she got rid of all that strong anger and pain. Then she'd be completely calm, rational, ready to talk and eager to apologize. The calm after the storm. This cycle really messed with my head. I started to hold in everything I thought and felt. She'd be yelling at me, getting angrier because I wasn't saying anything at all, and the angrier she got, the more I pulled within myself. So I know, firsthand, how destructive that pattern is.

And yet, now I do it. I hate it. I hate it so much. My mom is this warm, loving, vivacious, hilarious, superhumanly strong woman. I wish we could pick and choose what we take from our parents, you know? I'm proud to be like her in many, many ways, but I wish I hadn't gotten her emotional (in)sensibilities. But the reality is - I did, so I gotta figure out how to deal with it. I mean, STAT! I want to nip this thing in the bud (............so I can blossom without the thorns.....?! (BAM! GROAN))

If you're still reading after that and all this TMI, I'd like to share with you a list of rules I've made for fighting - to keep arguments healthy and productive, instead of a WWE match. Here goes...

If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all or sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can cause permanent damage
This is the golden rule, right? Or is that, "love thy neighbor?" I forget. Anyway. No cursing, whatsoever, never not ever ever. Leave it out. Our fights shouldn't need to be censored. And no name calling. None. I follow this rule in my day-to-day life as much as I can - why would I throw it out the window when I'm fighting with someone I love? That's when it's most important!

Don't walk away
Does anyone else have that Kelly Clarkson song stuck in their head now? Just me? Okay. Womp!

When I get angry, I storm off. Ohhh, I've gotten so much better about this, but it is tragic. Imagine a 20-something-year-old throwing a hissy fit - nearly stomping the ground and turning and walking off mid-sentence. It's not a pretty picture. When you're fighting, stay for the long haul. And if you're not prepared to talk about it - if emotions are too raw and strong, suggest a "time out" - Saved By the Bell style. Never just storm away. Think about if the other person left you mid-sentence. That's really hurtful and leaves you even more confused.



Innocent until proven guilty
Instead of assuming the worst (he/she forgot, didn't care, etc etc etc), ask what happened and take time to listen. I think at least 87.4% of the time in my fights with the man, once I finally calm down and just hear him out, I can see where he's coming from and why he made the decision he did, even if I still disagree. Even when I can't get what in the world he was thinking - we all want the benefit of the doubt. If it's good enough for the U.S. justice system, it's gotta be good enough for our relationships, right?

L-O-V-E
Remember you love this person. Like, a lot. A lot a lot. He's your person. He's your partner in crime. He's as funny, charming and cute as he is when you're not totally pissed off at him. Tell him that. Mid fight. Who cares? The argument isn't going anywhere (and if it does, good riddance!).

It's hard to say I'm sorry... but do it anyway
Admit when you're wrong! "I messed up." "It wasn't fair to you." Then verbalize what you'll do differently next time. And actually work at doing it differently next time!

Don't hold grudges
Grudges are the worst. Ever. Don't bring up stuff that happened like two years ago or two months ago or two days ago! That happened and (hopefully) got resolved. Stick in the present.

Let's get physical
About 200% of arguments between the man and me are resolved with hugs and cuddles. The second we touch, we literally and metaphorically close the distance arguing put between us. It doesn't work all the time, but lovers before fighters, right?

"Punishment" should only be a bad fetish joke
Don't ignore calls or texts. Don't hold it over their heads. Don't make them "pay" or "make up for it" (though, let's be honest, flowers never hurt anyone!). To that end, let's all just let up on the tire slashing, eh, Carrie Underwood?

What are your "fighting rules?" Do you have any to add to this list?

you and me baby, we're stuck like glue

[youtube=http://youtu.be/5iDPw_qjhtM]

#30daysofthanks vote for democracy!

Vote for Obama. Vote for Romney. Vote for a third party.

Vote for or against 'Obamacare,' gay rights, women's reproductive freedom, increased funding for clean energy initiatives.

Vote to uphold or take down gun control laws, expand Pell Grants & other federal financial aid, cut military spending, move forward with the U.S.'s shift towards Asia, limit or expand off-shore drilling.

Vote because you get a say in making a choice about who will lead and how this country will be led for the next four years.

Vote because voting is kinda a superpower.

I’ll be writing about something for which I’m thankful most days in November. Follow me here or on twitter @dccyndi. Join the conversation in the comments or on twitter, using the hashtag #30daysofthanks! For what are you thankful today? Thanks for reading!

-Cyndi

 

#30daysofthanks italian vegetable & sausage soup

Seasons are popping this year. Each one is vibrant, unique and bursting with possibility. I feel like I'm experiencing them all for the very first time. I'm relishing the small, daily changes in temperature, smell, color, clothing and sight of each one. I've always lived solely for the brightness, sunshine and eternal warmth of summer, but this year, I want more of them all.

Spring blossomed before my eyes, and I wanted to dance in the blooms. Summer took me by surprise, warming me to my core and through my soul on long, sunshine-fueled hikes and trips to the ocean. And this fall is all homemade hot chocolate and soups, the smell of baking apples - tossed in that irresistible mix of brown sugar and cinnamon. Fall is the new boots that I couldn't possibly afford but splurged on anyway and the perfect mittens that I haven't found yet, but that I know are out there, waiting to warm my fingers on those chilly waits at the bus stop.

For once, I'm not simply surviving the chill, waiting it out until the sun warms me again next year. I'm embracing it. I love how it changes my view on my morning walks with Theo. And I love that it's an excuse for Theo to wear his bright red sweater. I love the imperfect gourds that decorate my mantle, and I love, mostly, the taste of the season - my Italian heritage, warm and bubbling on the stove, keeping me warm while it's cold outside.





Hearty Italian vegetable soup with sausage, adapted from AllRecipes & Barefeet in the Kitchen

+1 lb ground pork or turkey (beef also works)
+3 links hot italian sausage (if you're in DC, I get mine from Vace in Cleveland Park - where it's handmade and oh so delicious!)
+1 medium yellow onion, diced
+3-4 medium-large sized carrots, peeled and chopped
+2-4 cloves garlic, minced/grated (I use a cheese grater)
+4-5 stalks celery, chopped
+1 medium zucchini, sliced
+2 cans (14.5 ounces each) peeled, diced tomatoes of your choice (I use no salt added, Italian herbs)
+1 can (15 ounces) tomato sauce
+1 small bag frozen corn (a can of whole kernel corn also works!)
+2 large handfuls fresh green beans, washed and halved
+4 cups water (I fill my emptied tomato sauce can & one diced tomato can with water - adds additional tomato juice, as well!)
+1 can (15 ounces) low-sodium beef broth
+heaping pinches (or a heaping teaspoon each of parsley, oregon, basil, thyme (I also add garlic powder & crushed red pepper in the same amount)

Optional -- 2 cans kidney beans, 2 cups chopped cabbage

Directions

1. Prepare your vegetables - add chopped & peeled carrots and chopped celery to one medium sized bowl. In a separate bowl, add zucchini, corn & green beans (these will cook faster and need less time in the pot).


2. Dice your onion and grate your garlic. Keep these separate.


3. Heat a large stockpot over medium-medium high heat. Brown your meat (pork, turkey, beef), and your Italian sausage (remove the casings before cooking).
   Brown until 3/4 cooked. Drain excess fat & return the meat to the pot.


4. Add garlic and onion and saute until aromatic over medium heat.


5. Add diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, water and beef broth. Stir thoroughly.


6. Toss in your bowl of carrots & celery. Mix in all seasonings.


7. Let simmer for at least one hour.


8. Mix in the remaining vegetables (corn, green beans & zucchini). Add additional seasonings to suit your taste.


9. Continue to simmer for at least 30 minutes.


10. Serve with grates Parmesan cheese & Italian bread. Delizioso!

I'll be writing about something for which I'm thankful (most) days in November. Follow me here or on twitter @dccyndi. Join the conversation in the comments or on twitter, using the hashtag #30daysofthanks.

then and now, in transition

I don't talk a whole lot about what's going on in the bigger picture in my life, but lately I've been thinking about my future... and how uncertain I am about it. Maybe that's natural? It probably is, but I thought I'd share a little about my thoughts lately with you.

Matt, my roommate and friend since we were 17, jokes that I've become pretentious. We both grew up in families that weren't well off - with less than many of our peers and our current friends. He teases that I've started to lose touch with those roots with all my winery visits, love of charcuterie and use of words like "charcuterie." Then I throw together some homemade fried chicken and dip my fries in a vat of ranch, and we're back to golden.

I'm in transition. I'm in this place in my late 20s (eek! so strange to say that), where I'm trying to merge the "me" of my past with the "me" of my future. I don't quite have a grasp on what my future looks like yet, so the result is murky. It's unclear. As I wade through this time of transition, I'm trying to proactively pick and choose new activities, friends, relationships and jobs - finding what fits and what doesn't.

As I keep getting days and weeks and months and years older, there are a few constants:

1. Travel - I want to do things like hike 41-miles along part of the Brazilian coastline, and I want to hike to the tallest ruins in Mexico, and I want to live and be and explore in every corner of the world.


2. My core friends - I can count them on two hands. We're spread out around the world, but our friendships persist.


3. Family - for better or worse, my mom and brother are a part of me, and I am a part of them.

(Edit: a commenter brought to my attention that I didn't include Theo (the Bagle Hound) in this list! Jeez, I'm a bad puppy mom. He is constantly by my side and adorable to boot.)

That's it. There are only three. Maybe 4, if I grant "hiking" its own category. Everything else - how blessedly happy I am in my still-young relationship, how drawn I am to the countryside, my lifelong need to write in different forms, my career - they all feel like unknowns, question marks. Where will I be in a year? Five? Ten? I just don't know.

I do know for certain, though, that I like how far I've come in the last five years.

While visiting Fabbioli Cellars this past weekend, I realized I misspoke when I told Zan months ago that my first winery visit was with him in Virginia. I completely forgot that I visited some when I studied abroad in South Africa back in college. (How could I forget that?!) That conversation made me look at the last five years and how I've changed and how my life has changed. I asked him, "I wonder if my 21 year old self, the kid that visited that first winery, would be proud of where I am now, five years later?"

I think she would. In the last five years, I've lived abroad for a year (in Japan), traveled to more than half a dozen countries, been the first in my family to graduate college, managed my student debt as responsibly as I know how, worked as a news producer covering the State Department, found a job where I get paid to write, and made the transition from sliced cheeses to artisan ones. (Matt's coughing right now, "Pretentious!")

I can't guess where I'll be in five years, but I'm almost nearly positive who I am now will be proud of who I become. AT least I really hope so. Either way, I'm excited to meet her in five years.

I haven't lost touch of my roots. I'm still hospitable, a Georgian at heart, a friend to all condiments, and I regard the values my mom taught me highly. But I've changed, too.

We are where we come from, but we're also how we choose to evolve.

My actual first winery - Spier in Stellenbosch, South Africa

Where are you from? Where are you going? What are your constants in life - maybe God, a spouse, a sport? Where, if anywhere, do you see yourself in five years? I'd love to hear your stories.

ps - Can we all just agree to never mention that middle school band photo ever again?!

some posts you may have missed this week

I visited Fabbioli Cellars in Leesburg, VA
Conquering a maize maze at Temple Hall Farms
I didn't celebrate Halloween until I was 18 - a look back at my (ridiculously embarrassing) costumes

then and now, in transition

I don't talk a whole lot about what's going on in the bigger picture in my life, but lately I've been thinking about my future... and how uncertain I am about it. Maybe that's natural? It probably is, but I thought I'd share a little about my thoughts lately with you.

Matt, my roommate and friend since we were 17, jokes that I've become pretentious. We both grew up in families that weren't well off - with less than many of our peers and our current friends. He teases that I've started to lose touch with those roots with all my winery visits, love of charcuterie and use of words like "charcuterie." Then I throw together some homemade fried chicken and dip my fries in a vat of ranch, and we're back to golden.

I'm in transition. I'm in this place in my late 20s (eek! so strange to say that), where I'm trying to merge the "me" of my past with the "me" of my future. I don't quite have a grasp on what my future looks like yet, so the result is murky. It's unclear. As I wade through this time of transition, I'm trying to proactively pick and choose new activities, friends, relationships and jobs - finding what fits and what doesn't.

As I keep getting days and weeks and months and years older, there are a few constants:

1. Travel - I want to do things like hike 41-miles along part of the Brazilian coastline, and I want to hike to the tallest ruins in Mexico, and I want to live and be and explore in every corner of the world.


2. My core friends - I can count them on two hands. We're spread out around the world, but our friendships persist.


3. Family - for better or worse, my mom and brother are a part of me, and I am a part of them.

(Edit: a commenter brought to my attention that I didn't include Theo (the Bagle Hound) in this list! Jeez, I'm a bad puppy mom. He is constantly by my side and adorable to boot.)

That's it. There are only three. Maybe 4, if I grant "hiking" its own category. Everything else - how blessedly happy I am in my still-young relationship, how drawn I am to the countryside, my lifelong need to write in different forms, my career - they all feel like unknowns, question marks. Where will I be in a year? Five? Ten? I just don't know.

I do know for certain, though, that I like how far I've come in the last five years.

While visiting Fabbioli Cellars this past weekend, I realized I misspoke when I told Zan months ago that my first winery visit was with him in Virginia. I completely forgot that I visited some when I studied abroad in South Africa back in college. (How could I forget that?!) That conversation made me look at the last five years and how I've changed and how my life has changed. I asked him, "I wonder if my 21 year old self, the kid that visited that first winery, would be proud of where I am now, five years later?"

I think she would. In the last five years, I've lived abroad for a year (in Japan), traveled to more than half a dozen countries, been the first in my family to graduate college, managed my student debt as responsibly as I know how, worked as a news producer covering the State Department, found a job where I get paid to write, and made the transition from sliced cheeses to artisan ones. (Matt's coughing right now, "Pretentious!")

I can't guess where I'll be in five years, but I'm almost nearly positive who I am now will be proud of who I become. AT least I really hope so. Either way, I'm excited to meet her in five years.

I haven't lost touch of my roots. I'm still hospitable, a Georgian at heart, a friend to all condiments, and I regard the values my mom taught me highly. But I've changed, too.

We are where we come from, but we're also how we choose to evolve.

My actual first winery - Spier in Stellenbosch, South Africa

Where are you from? Where are you going? What are your constants in life - maybe God, a spouse, a sport? Where, if anywhere, do you see yourself in five years? I'd love to hear your stories.

ps - Can we all just agree to never mention that middle school band photo ever again?!

some posts you may have missed this week

I visited Fabbioli Cellars in Leesburg, VA
Conquering a maize maze at Temple Hall Farms
I didn't celebrate Halloween until I was 18 - a look back at my (ridiculously embarrassing) costumes

fabulous Fabbioli Cellars!

The sun is shining, but the clouds moving in from whichever direction "that way" is, as I point up at the sky, tell me it won't be for too much longer. It doesn't look or smell like rain, only fading sunshine. Rows upon even rows of grapes dot one side of the field. A paved road separates the grapes from a small house - though it's bigger than it seems. I wonder how much land is here.

There are small, rolling hills along the property. A family - mom, dad and baby boy, get situated at a picnic table on the green, green grass. The mom pulls a sippy cup of juice from a bag with more zippers and snaps than the eye can see from this distance. He giggles with glee and takes it with both hands and tips it straight up, the way little kids do. Dad pours red wine from a newly opened bottle on the table, and the parents toast with a smile.

Varying country flags hang above a wraparound porch that makes you look twice. It's striking - oddly familiar, like a house you've seen before, but new, like somewhere you want to be invited for a cup of tea, or in this instance, a glass of wine.

There's a small sign at the entrance door, a side door - no stepping up on the porch needed, for tarot card readings. We pass it by and enter the small, well-kept cellars. There are myriad tasting tables, arranged just-so - none in the way of another. It feels spacious and welcoming. Every tasting I've experienced has been at a bar; this is new, special, intimate.

We head to the checkout line, where there is no line at all, though the grounds are comfortably crowded. The friendly staff member tells us tastings are $10/person and include eight wines, as well as a savory or sweet pairing. A pairing? That's new, too. Matt and I choose savory - they had us at salami; and Zan chooses sweet, to give us a taste of each. We're escorted to Erica's tasting table, where the bottles of wine are lined up, melting from white into rose into red into dessert, a perfecting tasting pathway.

Erica warmly greets us and lays our pairings in front of us. Matt and I have tasting envy; Zan's is described to us as homemade chocolate truffles. I can feel my mouth watering. Ours are delectable, too - with various cheeses, meats and crackers decorating the plate. Zan laughs and points up above us - you can't miss large, but hardly overbearing, lego replicas of Star Wars ships (is that the word?).

The tasting is luxurious, not rushed, and Erica joins our conversation easily, allowing us, too, time as much as we crave to finish each bite and sip. We like each wine, another unprecedented occurrence. Matt immediately finds his go-to in "Something White," while Zan craves more of the Sangiovese, and I fall deliciously for the Tre Sorelle, their flagship.

We buy a baguette, goat cheese and a bottle of something white and sip, spread and savor the experience of a day in Virginia wine country at our new favorite winery, Fabbioli Cellars.

Fabbioli Cellars is located in Leesburg, VA (very near to Temple Hall Farms). Tastings are $10/person for 8 wines & a sweet or savory pairing of small bites. You can find them on facebook and twitter.

fabulous Fabbioli Cellars!

The sun is shining, but the clouds moving in from whichever direction "that way" is, as I point up at the sky, tell me it won't be for too much longer. It doesn't look or smell like rain, only fading sunshine. Rows upon even rows of grapes dot one side of the field. A paved road separates the grapes from a small house - though it's bigger than it seems. I wonder how much land is here.

There are small, rolling hills along the property. A family - mom, dad and baby boy, get situated at a picnic table on the green, green grass. The mom pulls a sippy cup of juice from a bag with more zippers and snaps than the eye can see from this distance. He giggles with glee and takes it with both hands and tips it straight up, the way little kids do. Dad pours red wine from a newly opened bottle on the table, and the parents toast with a smile.

Varying country flags hang above a wraparound porch that makes you look twice. It's striking - oddly familiar, like a house you've seen before, but new, like somewhere you want to be invited for a cup of tea, or in this instance, a glass of wine.

There's a small sign at the entrance door, a side door - no stepping up on the porch needed, for tarot card readings. We pass it by and enter the small, well-kept cellars. There are myriad tasting tables, arranged just-so - none in the way of another. It feels spacious and welcoming. Every tasting I've experienced has been at a bar; this is new, special, intimate.

We head to the checkout line, where there is no line at all, though the grounds are comfortably crowded. The friendly staff member tells us tastings are $10/person and include eight wines, as well as a savory or sweet pairing. A pairing? That's new, too. Matt and I choose savory - they had us at salami; and Zan chooses sweet, to give us a taste of each. We're escorted to Erica's tasting table, where the bottles of wine are lined up, melting from white into rose into red into dessert, a perfecting tasting pathway.

Erica warmly greets us and lays our pairings in front of us. Matt and I have tasting envy; Zan's is described to us as homemade chocolate truffles. I can feel my mouth watering. Ours are delectable, too - with various cheeses, meats and crackers decorating the plate. Zan laughs and points up above us - you can't miss large, but hardly overbearing, lego replicas of Star Wars ships (is that the word?).

The tasting is luxurious, not rushed, and Erica joins our conversation easily, allowing us, too, time as much as we crave to finish each bite and sip. We like each wine, another unprecedented occurrence. Matt immediately finds his go-to in "Something White," while Zan craves more of the Sangiovese, and I fall deliciously for the Tre Sorelle, their flagship.

We buy a baguette, goat cheese and a bottle of something white and sip, spread and savor the experience of a day in Virginia wine country at our new favorite winery, Fabbioli Cellars.

Fabbioli Cellars is located in Leesburg, VA (very near to Temple Hall Farms). Tastings are $10/person for 8 wines & a sweet or savory pairing of small bites. You can find them on facebook and twitter.