Monthly Archives: September 2010

Dominion: why don't I own this game yet??

Dominion was the most popular game of Family Vacay 2010. I don’t think I would be exaggerating if I said that it was played around a dozen times per day. At least.

This game has won a ton of awards, all well-deserved. It also has a medieval theme, which makes for fun sentences like “I’m going to Throne Room my Woodcutter” or “You can’t Militia me–I have a Moat.”

Here are some shots of us playing; my sister Erica, Aunt Kathy, Uncle Brian, and my cousin Luke . . .

And here’s my husband added into the mix, with a triumphant little grin . . . he must have a “Moat” card. He loves those thangs.

I do have to say that I love Erica’s face in the picture above. Is she confused? Spacing out? Focused? It’s such an ambivalent expression.

Here’s Steph, looking cute . . .

My cousin Brianna looking like she’s considering an awesome play . . .

. . . or maybe just which tea bag to choose? I recommend “Sweet Dreams.”

Why did no one tell me that pursing my lips like that gives me the old lady chin? I’m trying to decide who to hold accountable for this. There are so many options of where to place the blame.

I won’t walk you through the rules, because that would be boring. And I think I would just confuse everyone. Suffice it to say that the objective is simply to purchase point cards with money cards. Whoever gets the most points, wins. Simple enough, eh? You can download a PDF of the instructions from the game’s website if you’re interested. Or you can give my cousin Luke a call. He will explain everything–he’s quite good at it. Luke, you don’t mind if I splay your cell phone number all over the internet in case some hapless soul needs a good explanation of the difference between the ‘trash’ pile and the ‘discard’ pile, right? I didn’t think so. I mean, look at this face–it’s the face of someone who selflessly explains the same card game ten times. And then selfishly wins over and over again.

Selfish and selfless. Selfless and selfish. I think the phrase ‘paradoxical winning machine’ sums him up nicely.

My role in this whole shebang is to halt all attempts at a coherent explanation, and instead simply tell you 6 reasons why Dominion is awesome:

1. You can play with as few as 2 players (and as many as 4). Being a family of 2 at this point in our lives, my husband and I could have evenings of rampant Dominion-playing. And smoothie-drinking. And popcorn-eating. This batch of popcorn was particularly delicious.

2. Luke doesn’t always win, like he does with Blokus. Though Luke may win most of the time, his brother and lifelong competitive opponent Steve had a long winning streak too. I, alas, never even started my winning streak. It was about to happen when Family Vacay ended, I swear.

Even Erica may have won some times . . . though does anyone remember that actually happening?

Just kidding. Here she is with Aunt Kathy–2 adorable blondies.

3. There’s a great mix of strategy and chance that keeps you on your toes. You can plan a lot and it will pay off, but you will also get turns which yield only 7 coins. You’ll understand once you play. When you get 7 coins, you will rip the hair off your head, face (if you’re a dude, or a hairy lady), and opponents’ heads/faces.

You will also rip your face off if someone uses this evil card to steal your money:

The Thief. I hate his guts.

4. The assortment of cards used in the game changes every time, which will in turn drastically change your strategy. No two games are identical. This built-in variety is what enabled my husband to play what probably ended up being at least 1,000,000 rounds of this game.

Here is Erica, looking devious over some evil change in strategy:

5. Um, like, it’s super duper duper fun. Except with 10 extra “dupers” on there.

It’s especially fun when you and your sister pretend you are confused little aliens, though you won’t find that tip in the rule book.

6. Festival, Festival, Smithy, Moat, Moat, Moat. And that’s all you have to know to win.

Just kidding on that last one. But seriously, Festival is my hands-down favorite card of all time.

I mean, actions? Extra shopping? 2 more coins of purchasing power? The dwarf in the red cap asks you: what more could a girl want? And he’s got a point, goshdarn it.

It’s especially exciting when I get to Festival my Festival. Yes, I just used “Festival” as a verb. It’s an ‘action’ card, which completely justifies that weird bit of grammar.

The lingering question in everyone’s mind is–if I love it so much and am endorsing it to this extent, why do I not own this game yet? I offer 3 simple explanations: because Family Vacay just ended about a week ago and a half ago and I haven’t had time to hunt down the best deal. Because what with summer travels our August budget has gone completely bonkers and obliterated all semblance of sound financial practices in our home. Because I’m afraid that once we own the game my husband will want to play it 1,000,000 times with me per night. And I’m only up for one or two.

You can see the evidence of his obsession in how focused he is dealing the cards while I’m goofing off right next to him. Nothing could distract him, not even my most ridiculous ploys.

I tried to distract him man, but in the Dominion vs. Wife attention-getting playoffs, I crashed and burned. Is that another reason to purchase this game? Or perhaps a great reason not to purchase it? I can’t quite tell. My judgment must be clouded by the lack of snuggles I was enduring at the time.

I hope to have successfully explained why we don’t own this game yet, but for the rest of you, get with the program. Get Dominion. And then invite us over so that we can play too.

Chicago, year #1: our apartment and beyond

Today is September 1st. Exactly 1 year ago today, our moving van was double parked on a one-way street and we were hauling load after load of boxes and furniture through a little courtyard and up a flight and a half of stairs. We had come from 3 years in the small town of Newark, Delaware, and were eager to hit the big city.

We have not been disappointed . . . but it didn’t start that way: my first glimpse of the apartment was dismal. We had caught our complex in the middle of a management change, so there were no on-site landlords. Thus, our apartment had not been cleaned. From the filthy toilet and bathtub to the grease-covered stove and oven to the dirt-encrusted window sills and sticky hardwood floor with mysterious stains and spots, it was all looking very depressing. To flesh things out (sorry, gentlemen please avert your ears) let’s just say it was also ‘that time of the month,’ which made the disgusting toilet seat staring me in the face, soiled and stained by the previous resident, an even uglier prospect. It’s just not what a girl needs at that time in her life. After hearing my husband’s enthusiasm for the place, seeing it in person for the first time brought me to tears. I held them back as I lugged the boxes up the flight-and-a-half of stairs. My husband could tell something was wrong, but I knew that if I spoke I would completely fall apart, so I held my tongue and prayed that the waves of disappointment and frustration would stop soon, or at least become more bearable.

Thank God I held my tongue! The waves passed as we continued to work, and that evening was spent scrubbing the place down. A short Vietnamese man on a bicycle showed up with a bucket of cleaning products and removed the layer of dirt from the bathtub. Management replaced our toilet seat on day 1 and replaced the oven a day or two later. They fixed our electrical issues and installed a missing light fixture in our bathroom.

My parents decided to stick around for the rest of the week to help us out; what that meant to my husband and me, they will never know. I seriously don’t know what we would have done without their encouragement and know-how. My Dad made almost daily trips to the local hardware store to get mysterious objects that did things like level the bookcases on the uneven floor and color in rubbed-off spots or scratches on our wood furniture. I may even know now that these objects are called “shims” and “wood markers.” Are you impressed? Anyway, some day I need to brag about my parents’ incredible handyman skills. They have remodeled every house they’ve lived in, building cabinets and beds, tiling walls and floors, tearing down and building up walls–wow. Mom, Dad, are you sure I wasn’t adopted? And could you please confirm that you’re proud I now know the word “shims”? It’s important for my self-esteem.

Dirt was scoured away, the kitchen floor was scrubbed and waxed, holes were drilled, boxes unpacked, and a wonderful trip to Ikea (which has made me a faithful follower) resulted in a butcher’s block to add counter space to our kitchen, shelving for the kitchen and bathroom, rugs for the living areas, and a myriad of other things that made our place more comfortable and home-like. I was starting to feel a lot happier.

God blessed me with a job 6 weeks after moving to Chicago. Broadway Armory Park is right next door, where I take yoga classes. The library, grocery store and El stop are within about 3 minutes of our door. I love our Thorndale stop, and I never want to forsake it for another. Here it is in the glorious Saturday morning light:

Our neighborhood is safe, and we live on this beautiful tree-lined street.

And I haven’t even mentioned the beach yet, which is only 2 street East and keeps our place cooler than most on hot summer days.

I have to ask myself–could it be any better? I don’t think so–at least not ’til heaven.

Here are some shots of our apartment as it stands, one year in. In the morning a yellow glow just floods the house, and combined with the smell of coffee wafting from our trusty pre-programmed coffee maker–well, I love it. We’ll start in the 2nd bedroom:

We split the livingroom into 2 areas; the computer area:

. . . and the main area:

We also split what was a huge dining room into an eating area . . .

. . . and a little library. This is my favorite spot to sit on a slow Saturday morning, with my Bible and coffee in hand.

My husband also loves playing the guitar in this space.

There is an open bookshelf between the two areas that houses both books and dishes. And yes, those are Baileys glasses. If you have never experienced Baileys (or any Irish cream, really) in your coffee, your life has not been what it could be. But it’s not too late for anyone! Don’t give up on yourself yet!

On Saturday we had a celebratory breakfast at our local diner, one of my husband’s favorite neighborhood spots.

We walked down to the lake . . .

. . . and then had a spontaneous day out and about in the city, which included seeing the movie “Inception” downtown (definitely recommend it), visiting the Art Museum, and going to an open-air ballet performance at Millenium Park. 

So a word of encouragement–if you have just moved or experienced a life change and are feeling overwhelmed, appalled, and despairing, that’s where I was 1 year ago today. And yet the past year has been one of the most peaceful and happy ones that I can remember. This city and this apartment has been my favorite place to live, my new job has been my favorite place to work, and this has been one of our best years of marriage.

Tonight my husband is in Oklahoma visiting our friend Tyler, and I’ll be here in the apartment eating some Arroz a la Cubana . . . but I’ll be pouring a little glass of something or another to quietly toast our 1 year anniversary in Chicago, looking forward to an equally awesome Year #2 ahead.