I’m having one of those twitchy days when I’m all worked up about something and everything but all of these things are nothings in reality. I’m just sort of freaked out and over caffeinated about all sorts of stupid shit and it’s really fucking annoying. I’m such a peculiar sort of crazy that it really requires an advanced primer to be sent to all of you just so you have a basic understanding of the underlying elements of my psychosis. It’s just too hard to try to cover in a more succinct format.

One thing stands out is that I cannot for the life of my watch an episode of Oprah without breaking down in tears. Last night we got home from our first dog obedience class (dear God, why is every dog trainer I’ve ever met a lunatic?) and I thought I’d iron some clothes while watching television. So I switched on my DVR’d episode of Oprah, the one about obese teens, and cue the blubbering. It broke my heart and it made me want to have my own session of “I’m angry because . . .” as I too am angry about so many things and would like to voice those things instead of eating brownies and anxiously fretting over rudimentary crap (see above). Oh help me, I love Oprah and I also love my husband because I’m pretty sure he’d listen if I did want to engage in one of those sessions. If only we could schedule it in.

Yes, that’s the worst part of my generalized anxiety. There just isn’t enough time to do all the things that need to get done. Everyone is in this boat, I know, I just feel like I am ill-equipped to deal with all the chaos and stress surrounding our house right now. I fully believe that the state of your house reflects the state of your brain and if you saw our house right now you’d appreciate the gravity of my concerns. Shit is a mess. This is primarily due to the ongoing bathroom remodel, which has been seriously waylaid by Brett’s back injury, but also because we have a tiny house and a lot of crap and it’s winter and thus we are SHUT IN the tiny house of disorganization. It’s making us crazy.

I cannot wait for spring. I’ve never felt so desperate for warm weather in my life.

of sneezes and hormones

I feel like shit today because I do believe I caught a cold from Brett. So now both of us feel like shit and unfortunately the dogs are incapable of doing things like grocery shopping and snow shoveling. According to my favorite weather man, Tom Skilling, we will be inundated with another few inches of snow tomorrow. Mother fucker.

I did go to the GYN yesterday and he was encouraged that I have about a 75% chance of being pregnant in the next few months. This is good. He also thought that if my cycle doesn't return (it went away because of the Lupron) by April 15th, he'll start me on Clomid. Anybody ever taken this drug? I'm curious if there are any fun side-effect to this one, becuase I so enjoyed the side-effects from Lupron (sarcasm there).

In other news, my jeans are looser today. I'm happy about this but think it may be do to the hormone changes (coming off of Lupron) and not anything I'm doing. We haven't worked out since last year. Granted last year was only two weeks ago, but still. I don't think I'll be working out until next week given my sudden onset sickness. Once again, mother fucker. All the good intentions I have about health and fitness tend to get over shadowed by LIFE. Stupid annoying LIFE. If I can't keep up with it now, I don't know how I'll deal when there's a little one, but we'll work on that when and if it happens.

I also already started doing my taxes, which means two things: (1) I'm a nerd; and (2) mama needs a new pair of everything.

The best nurses in the world . . .

. . . have fur.

Easier (and better, way better) than a bread machine

Hi.

It's snowing AGAIN. Normally, I wouldn't care, but here's the reason why this is not a normal snow: I HAVE TO SHOVEL IT. Brett is laid up with a lumbar strain, which sucks for him, and for me because he cannot do the normal things he does, which include shoveling. The kicker is that I already have a bad back thanks to a little something called spondylolisis (say that five times fast), which means that when I shovel it's so incredibly half-assed that it's barely worth doing. But if I don't shovel, then the dogs start peeing on the drive-way or side-walk or deck because they don't know the difference between a snow covered deck and a snow covered yard, but I do. Thus, I will half-assedly shovel some snow. . . later.

Now I will post a bread recipe that has a devout following in our house. I found it a book that Swistle recommended called The Tightwad Gazette. So here it is, and it's very easy and quite delicious and I will never buy store bread again . . .

5-6 cups all-purpose flour (you can substitute whole-wheat flour for 1 to 2 cups)
2 tablespoons dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon salt
2 cups hot water
1 tablespoon sesame or poppy seeds

Mix 4 cups of the flour with the yeast, sugar and salt. Pour in hot water and beat 100 strokes, or 3 minutes with a mixer. Stir in the remaining flour until the dough is no longer sticky. Knead 8 minutes (I use the dough hook on my Kitchen Aid mixer and just let that roll around for about 8 minutes and it turns out fine). Place the dough in a greased bowl, and cover with a damp towel. Let rise 15 minutes (I have found that the rising time is more like an hour, but our house is incredibly dry, so the time may vary). Punch down (good fun). Divide into 2 pieces. Shape into 2 round loaves and place on a baking sheet. Cut an X 1/2 inch deep on top with a sharp knife. Brush with water and sprinkle with seeds. Place on the middle shelf of a cold oven. Place a cake pan of hot water on the lowest shelf. Heta the oven to 400 degrees. Bake 40-50 minutes until deep golden brown. YUM.

In other news, I'm going to the gyne tomorrow to discuss getting pregnant. Hopefully he'll reassure me that things will go alright and I should stop reading all the horrible things about Lupron that I find when I randomly google Lupron and pregnancy. God help me, I'm my own worst enemy.

Just an FYI . . . Brett maybe pulled a muscle or is experiencing some nasty sciatica or radiculopathy from all the luggage handling he did during our vacation, only to be followed by snow shoveling upon our return. At least that's what he hopes it is, and not some bizarre tropical disease he picked up on our sojourn. Unfortunately, he had to go to class today and in an effort to actually make it to class (he could barely stand up last night) he took a very powerful pain killer that was left over from some procedure or another and now he's sick from that. The boy just can't win. Also, how on earth do you get addicted to those nasty pain killers? I have taken a total of 2 in my entire life, and on both occasions I became ferociously ill.

Two Words

Slim Fast.

Strikes fear into your heart doesn't it? I know. Mine too. Except, it's not that bad really. Mostly becuase I'm not really on a diet, I'm just on a quest to not be so fucking hungry. I figure that if I down a Slim*Fast every now and again, maybe I won't snack so much when I'm at the office. The office has this funny way of making me eat when I shouldn't. I think it's something to do with mundane day to day duties that suck the life out of me and the thought of a Snickers bar is the only that gets me through the day. Anyway, we'll see how it goes.

Also, I quit drinking. Full stop. That should reduce my weekly caloric intake by about a million calories (not quite, but almost. I love my wine). It's okay though, because I'm hoping I'll be pregnant in a little bit and I'm hoping that I will feel better and maybe my boobs will start shrinking (until I get pregnant, at which point I assume they will blot out the sun with their enormity) and maybe I'll sleep better and maybe I'll stop spilling wine all over the neighbors six-year old child (true story). Here's hoping.

Oh, and our vacation was completely lovely. Pictures eventually, maybe from Brett? Although he is suffering from post-vacation cold/immobility due to searing pain in his buttocks, so maybe after that's over (seriously, the poor guy is in a lot of pain and please send him get well thoughts).

Over and out good buddies, for now.

Move over 2008, here comes something better

Look, there were a lot of wonderful things that happened this past year, but honestly, I'm so freaking glad that it's over. Brett and I were going over all the shit that went down over the course of the last year, and oh my hell, that was a lot of stuff to deal with. I have a tremendous amount of relief knowing that I can file it all away as DONE and NEVER AGAIN. Oh my God, so much relief.

This year I hope to settle down and just enjoy the gifts I have, and not lament the losses or lacks in my life. I have a lot of things to treasure, if only I'd stop concentrating on the "only ifs." I wish you all a Happy New Year.

Bringin' da crazy

First thing’s first, I totally started up again because Tess did. It’s true. I read her post and thought, man, why aren’t I blogging anymore? Because it’s all about me, all the time, apparently.

Secondly, I’ve had a lot of strange things happening to me lately; strange in the way that they can’t all be coincidences. Someone once told me, or maybe it was in a book (who am I kidding? It was probably in a magazine) that when shit like this happens, it’s just because you started paying attention and noticed things that would normally go unnoticed. The used the example of the number 23. Apparently you tell people that 23 is the most common number, and suddenly people are looking for 23 and noticing it, whereas they normally would not pay any attention. The result is that they see all these 23s and are like, “you’re right, 23 is totally common!” I say that’s very NOT fun and I prefer my logic: It’s magical and mysterious and I am special!

I totally believe in the crazy shit though. I mean, not the really crazy shit (mostly), but I am a firm believer in the unknowable and the special and the universe working in ways that I don’t understand (some may call them “mysterious ways” :). Maybe it’s just a way for me to keep hopeful in times of stress, or happy in times of sadness, but I like it when the universe sort of winks at you and I take comfort in the weirdest of weird things. And believe me when I say I am not a very religious person in the usual meaning of that term. It’s just nice to feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m on the right path even if I mostly feel like I’m flailing down life’s path like a monkey doing cartwheels. I sort of use these “coincidences” as the universe’s little mile-markers and it gives me a sense of peace and trajectory that I mostly lack.

And now we will return to the slightly less insane ramblings of your’s truly . . . except that I have to go now, so that’s all you get.

It's sure been a while

Hi there. I’m still alive and kicking, just not writing much these days. I got very bored with myself somewhere in there, and just couldn’t conjure enough excitement word wise to hit “publish.” Then I just got too far away from this place and felt silly going back. You know how that is, it’s like when you’re gone from the gym for many weeks and you want to go back, but feel dumb because you don’t want people to ask why you stopped going or notice that you’ve gotten grossly out of shape, etc. Maybe that experience is mine alone.

Anywho, all is well here in Flib land. I still have a job, a home, a husband, and two stinky dogs. The house has undergone some serious changes and thanks to my husband, all have been performed without charge. I’m just around for moral support and clean up crew. It works out just fine. We are currently in the middle of a complete bathroom remodel, including putting in a shower. For some reason, the main bathroom in our house, the one in between all the bedrooms, did not come with a shower. Annoying. So Brett is having a crash course in plumbing. Very exciting.

However, lesson learned in that undertaking a massive construction project days before Christmas is a very very VERY bad idea. (reasonable people, like you, surely know this already)

So, the house, it is a mess, and it will stay that way for another two-weeks because we are off to the Bahamas. We are taking a cruise and I could not be more excited. It will be our first real vacation. Every time we go somewhere (including our “honeymoon,” yes our honeymoon) we have some sort of family along for the ride. We have never done anything alone that lasted more than two nights. It is only appropriate for this is the kick-off for baby making season.

Yup, you read that right. The cruise will be our last hurrah before I get all crazy for the baby. You may be thinking that it’s weird to “schedule” your hopeful conception, except that in may case it’s not, because I’ve been on this hormone that stops ovulation, so it’s actually impossible (mostly) for me to get pregnant before that’s out of my system, and it won’t be out of my system until January 15th (ish), so this cruise is timed perfectly.

This may be my only outlet for discussions of getting pregnant. I don’t really want to discuss it with people I know in the “real world” because, well, I don’t know, I just don’t. Also, Brett may get tired of hearing about my cervical mucous and my basal temperature, so this may be the perfect outlet for me (and cue the loss of all readers). Hopefully, we will have good news, but maybe we won’t and maybe this will be a good place to write about our difficulties. So, I guess that’s the plan here . . . to chronicle this adventure and maybe get some advice and support.

paragraphs

I’m afraid to admit this in public, but I’m really excited that the football season kicks off tonight. However, I’m confused as to who to root for. On the one hand, it’s hard not to root for Chicago, but I’ve always harbored a soft spot for the Packers. However, now that Favre is gone, am I still a Packer’s fan? I’m not even sure if I’m a Favre fan after the retirement crap he pulled, so I clearly can’t be a Jets fan. I’m a woman without a team. It’s confusing.

I wore a fleece to work today, it was just that chilly. This makes me happy because I am much more a cool weather gal than a hot weather gal. Odds are we’ll have at least one more 90 degree snap before fall actually settles in, but this is a brief glimpse of the pumpkin lattes, honey crisp apples and crunchy leaves yet to come.

I have my iPod on shuffle, but it keeps shuffling to Christmas music at the most inopportune moments, say when my boss stops by for a chat or when the one attorney who is always looking at me suspiciously walks by my office.

I don’t know why one of my colleagues seems suspicious of me, but she totally does. She never looks me in the eye and frequently avoids me in the hallway. This, in turn, makes me go out of my way to interact with her because I want to show her that I’m normal and she does need not be suspicious. I suspect this makes her more suspicious.

We’re going to Texas next weekend for a combination business and pleasure (mostly business, but I suspect there will be some pleasure involved). I love Texas, mainly for the food. And by food I mean the tex-mex shit. The salsa/cheese/meat/tortilla combinations. They know their way around a chili down that way. Unfortunately my sister (who lives there and who we’re staying with) is a vegetarian and a snobby one at that, so who knows if we’ll even get to sample the good stuff.

I’m knee deep in the shit of official name change. I totally abandoned my maiden name and fully embraced Brett’s last name because I like having the same last name and his is a whole lot more anonymous than my maiden name. If you googled my full maiden name you would get me and only me. If you google my new married full name I am a whole host of things, and the actual me does not show up until page 13 or something. It’s fantastic. I love a little anonymity.

Oh, but the name change shit, it SUCKS. I mean really sucks. Changing my name with Social Security was easy – you just have to go to the office with the proper documents. Changing my name with my workplace has been nothing short of horrific, which would be funny if you knew where I worked, which you don’t, which is for the best.

I like calling Brett my “husband.” It feels really good.

Brett will hopefully post some photo documentation of our trip out west on his blog, but for now you only get one other picture of the actual wedding. We haven’t gotten the CD with the digital pictures on it because our photographer is flighty and crazy and maybe not really a photographer at all, but that’s a story for another time.

I like being a married girl

We’ve actually been back at the real world game for over a week now, but it seems that when you check out of the real world for 2.5 weeks, it takes a bit of work to get back in. Rather annoying actually.

Regardless of the above, our whirl wind wedding/road trip was all together enjoyable. We had all this build up to the wedding, and then it just sort of happened, and nothing went wrong and everyone behaved (except the photographer who was NUTS) and I am so proud of us for being eerily calm during the entire damn thing.

The weather was stupidly perfect and the flowers, oh my god, the flowers were to die for! I loved them. Brett looked dapper in his tux and aside from the fact that the judge (someone who has known me since birth) asked if Play-boy was shooting a spread during the wedding (because apparently he thought my dress looked like a bustier) all went down quite nicely.

The only silly thing I did was forget my line once and I may or may not have sent projectile snot out of my nose and onto my bouquet while my now mother-in-law was singing during the ceremony. What can I say? It was very emotional.

Also, I may be taking my wedding dress out for drinks on a regular basis. You’d be shocked at how many very amiable individuals will see fit to buy you drinks when you’re in a wedding dress. Also, running into other brides, whom you’ve never met before, who also go out for drinks after their wedding is so much fun. It’s like you’re part of this ridiculous little frosted sorority for one night and you are so totally BFFs for about 10 minutes. It’s great. I highly recommend.

We’ll have more pictures of the ceremony once we actually get the proofs from the CRAZY lady a.k.a. photographer. Needless to say, she was about the only pratfall of the whole event, and even that wasn’t so bad.

The road trip out to Montana had a few snafus, mostly involving difficult sister in laws and me catching a nasty cold two days into the tip. I have to pat myself on the back though, because even though I was sneezing-coughing-dripping-stuffed to capacity SICK, I still camped, hiked, rafted, and survived a snake sighting. I am a T-to the R-double O-per .

Pictures to come of that bidness as well. As soon as we find time to do anything but laundry.
To sum it up: I highly recommend getting married. It’s pretty fun and if you marry someone like my husband, it’s even better because the fun doesn’t stop after the wedding.

Legally bound

We're back, we're married, we're tired. Oi.

My name is Flib and I am addicted to being hungover in inconvenient places

There is much preparation going on at casa de about-to-wed-in-T-minus-nine-short-days. Last weekend I had to drive to Minnesota for my final dress fitting, and then promptly turn around and drive back to Chicago, stopping off in Madison for a raucous bachelorette party (not so raucous really, but I did have to puke in a bag while trapped in traffic on I-90, and yes I know this is my second indecent puking incident in a single month and I am appropriately humiliated and seeking treatment in the form of leaving the state for 2.5 weeks).

Anyway, hallelujah, my dress fits. I was scared when I had the first fitting because I put it on and it literally fell off. It was zipped up and it fell off. It was, in so many words, way too fucking big. They accused me of losing weight, but I know my body, and I know that I have not lost that much weight. Luckily I found a very skilled seamstress and $500 dollars later, my dress fits. Thank goodness I have a very generous aunt, or I would be wearing a wearing dress with industrial clamps keeping it on my body because I stupidly had not budgeted for that much in alterations. Is nothing cheap when it comes to weddings? Sadly, no.

In all honesty, neither of us are too stressed out about the wedding. If things go wrong, so be it. We are getting married outside and we have no fall-back plan if it rains. I figure, if it rains, we hurry up with the ceremony and take the cake to an empty bar and save the champagne for another day. C’est la vie. (Note: my family does not share this laissez faire attitude with me, I pity them)

In more exciting news, Brett and I biked ourselves silly yesterday, exploring our newly adopted town. We moved to this singularly bucolic town in Northern Illinois, about 60 miles from Chicago. It is adorable, and friendly and filled with charming Victorian homes within walking distance to a town square that offers several delicious non-chain restaurants and cafes, bars with tin ceilings, a jewelry store where we bought our shiny wedding bands, a Ben Franklin and a bakery that serves up pull apart cinnamon bread. It’s kind of awesome, and we can bike there, which makes me extremely happy. We could walk there too, but biking is far more exciting.

We stopped at the bike shop (also in the town square, and also not a chain, which is kind of a mantra for us) and tried to procure some baskets for our bicycles so that we could actually run errands via bike, but, get this, they were SOLD OUT. Yes, there are so many like minded individuals that they could not keep their baskets in stock. This, my friends, is the silver lining on the ever expanding grey cloud of gas price doom. The world, our world, our way of life, is changing. Change is good. Change keeps us from becoming drones and while I have no idea how we will make it if gas keeps climbing, because we live on a budget and it does not allow for $20 gasoline (or even $6 dollar gasoline), I know that good will come out of this. I also know that biking is a whole lot more pleasant than driving. Change is a positive, even if it seems like a negative. It keeps you on your toes and that is always a good thing.

Also a good thing . . . Love is a Mixed Tap by Rob Sheffield. Go get this book and read it STAT. It is wonderful and I cried myself stupid and resisted the urge to call Brett (I read it this weekend while I was running around the Midwest puking in JC Penney bags and he was at home painting bedrooms) and tell him all the reason I loved him and what I would put on a mixed tape to express our love. Avoid doing that to your loved one, but nevertheless, it’s more wonderful than I can say.

What’s not so wonderful is the fact that our cable package does not offer Bravo in its line-up. This is a travesty for me because I am currently missing Project Runway. I set it to record on the DVR, but then when I played it back the TV mocked me with a “press info button for subscription information.” Fuck you cable company. I knew the deal you were giving me was too good to be true.

Check out Brett’s blog for info on his birthday surprise trip with bonus picture of us in kayaks. Awesome.

white knuckles and birthday surprises

Last night’s drive home was exciting in a heart-pounding-please-don’t-let-this-be-the-end kind of way. I left my office at about 7:20pm, and Brett called me soon thereafter to inform me that a storm was pushing its way eastward, through the corn fields and into Chicago. “Eh,” I thought. “I’ll make it home before it hits.”

Then I saw in the western sky, an enormous black line of clouds, like a big space ship covering up the entirety of Northern Illinois. Seriously, it was like those space ships in Independence Day, just hovering over the farmland. Creepy.

I, of course, was headed west, directly into the impending storm, and I noted that perhaps this was not going to be as “eh” as I had thought.

Fifteen minutes later, me and my car are engulfed in the space ship like storm cloud, and the rain began to pelt my tired little car with it’s less than terrific tires. Shit. The hydroplaning began, and I held on for dear life as it became obvious that my gas peddle was doing nothing more than offering me a place to rest my foot. Seriously, I was convinced I was going to be washed away, never to be seen again.

That last mile of interstate before my exit was nothing short of terrifying. I wish I could have just pulled over, but I could barely see out the windshield for the driving rain, and I was pretty sure no one else could either. I didn’t feel like getting squashed by a semi-truck as I waited out the storm.

Basically, it sucked. End of story.

In non-terrifying news, Brett’s birthday is Tuesday. I am taking him on a surprise trip. He has an “idea” of where we’re going, but whether his “idea” is accurate has not been confirmed. I’m not telling him anything, and I considered blindfolding him for the entirety of the drive, but then I reconsidered it as I certainly don’t want to be mistaken for a kidnapper.

The only hints I gave Brett were that it was within driving distance, he need not bring any dress clothes, and he would need multiple bathing suits. So, any of you familiar with our part of the Midwest, where do you think we’re going???

approaching time warp

It’s storming outside at 5:16pm on this Thursday afternoon. I’m in my office, trying to finish work before I go home. I need to stay late so that I can be gone for TWO WHOLE WEEKS(!!!) in August. It’s approaching very soon, but I have a lot to do before we go.

I feel a tad nauseous today. Unfortunately my nausea is due to the bizarre foods I ate in attempt to make up for a failed lunch. I thought we had some sort of office barbeque today, but it’s actually next week, which makes me an idiot. I sauntered out of my office and out to the parking lot, expecting to find a big tent and the smell of grilling meat, but instead I saw cars. Sheepishly I hurried back to my office and re-read the damn memo. Next week.

Then I ate some yogurt, a banana, a handful of crackers and have been sucking on hard candy. I guess that’s not so bad, but I don’t feel very good nonetheless. Plus, I would like to go home now because office = lifeforce sucking machine.

My friend Shipyard made me do it.

gravity, with pictures!

Oh man. I can’t even begin to sum up the past few days. It’s been crazy. Just crazy.

We went up to my alma mater for a birthday party and it was one of the longer nights of my life. I elected to have us stay in a quaint little bed and breakfast within walking distance of downtown Appleton, and you know what the worst place to be stupidly drunk at 2:30am is? A quaint bed and breakfast, that’s where. We stumbled in so late, and I do believe I was shoeless. I sincerely hope that we did not disturb the newly weds who were spending their first married night in the room adjacent to us. I have a sneaking suspicion that they would not understand our drunken predicament seeing as they seemed the non-drinking type. Cursed teetotalers.

Adding insult to injury was the emergency stop at a gas station somewhere on the Wisconsin/Illinois border in order for me to puke my guts out on the drive home. I’m so sorry to all patrons of that particular gas station/family diner. I really hope your kids learned an important lesson from my vulgar display of stupidity: NEVER BINGE DRINK OVER THE AGE OF 20 (actually, just don’t binge drink I suppose).

I blame it on Appleton. There is something in the air of that town that makes people drunk. I never get drunk like that unless I’m at a wedding, because I cannot get over the privilege of an open bar and feel like I owe it to the hosts to take full advantage of their generosity. Maybe that’s why my wedding invitation receipts have declined dramatically this year? Nah.

It was stupid and it took fully 2-days to get over that night and thusly I accomplished nothing productive Saturday or Sunday. In fact that only thing I did accomplish was to experience extreme insomnia Saturday night that was virtually intractable. I was worried I would never sleep again. Both Brett and I experienced this phenomenon and we both finally gave up and had sex and that seemed to do the trick. You know you’re in a long term relationship when sex is sometimes a tool for sleep as opposed to a purely pleasure seeking device.

Luckily, it worked, and we finally got to sleep around 5am.

Monday was spent packing, lifting, grunting, sweating and rigging couches to dangle off of second floor balconies until they rested gently on the ground several feet below. My man, he’s some kind of genius. Honestly, without him, the future occupant of that apartment would have a free couch because there was no way that puppy was going out the door. Also, he lowered that couch to the ground all by himself. We have pictures to prove it (note that I am doing nothing but taking pictures, which is really evidence of my uselessness in this moving/home owning thing):

Ear Worm

The blinds in my office are mysteriously drawn today. I did not draw them, so the question remains, who did? My office is locked when I’m not here (sensitive documents lie within the confines of my confine, so I must lock them up to protect the innocent) so I do believe that the only logical conclusion is that my office is haunted. Either that or my boss (the only other person with a key) came in and closed my blinds and maybe stole some Diet Coke, because that’s missing too. Bosses, they cannot be trusted.

Speaking of a lack of trust, I no longer trust my blog reading abilities. I have slacked off for weeks now and it’s so uncool. I mean, I’ve basically fell off the commenting wagon and it’s not because I don’t want to comment, it’s just that I have so much other shit to do that demands attention no matter how little I want to give attention.

I know, it’s so fascinating to read about how busy someone is. Maybe I should now discuss the fact that Brett and I literally watched pain dry last week, or the ins and outs of mold removal of the upstairs bathroom medicine cabinet? That might be just as interesting. (Seriously, what kind of people rest their wet toothbrushes on a wooden surface, repeatedly, such that black mold develops, and then continue to rest their toothbrushes in the same spot despite the presence of aforementioned black mold? Oh my god, so GROSS!)

I’ll leave the house/yard talk to Brett, because honestly, he’s doing most of it. I clean; that’s about all I do. Brett does the actual work, and then I pick up and cleanse the aftermath. It’s all very gender appropriate and all that shit, but really, I have no knowledge of electrical wiring or wielding of pole saws, so it’s best that I stick to what I do know: bleach and Murphy’s Oil Soap.

We also go to Menards on a daily, sometimes bi-daily basis. You know what? You really can save big money at Menards. (If you live anywhere near a Menards, I apologize for inserting that ear worm into your day) We shopped for a new vent/light/heater for the basement bathroom, and the very same unit was $158 dollars at Lowes, whereas it was $72 at Menards. Shocking.

You see what we’ve become? Home owners.

This weekend, however, we’re off to Appleton, Wisconsin for some debauchery. My best friend from college is turning 30 and her husband is throwing her a surprise party at our former favorite watering hold. I cannot wait to show Brett around my alma mater and possibly start crying at the educational opportunities I wasted by being drunk and possibly stoned and these same opportunities are now afforded to people a full 12 years younger than I. Not fair.

Eight fascinating things

Katrin tagged me for this meme approximately forever ago, but you know, we went out of town and bought a house and continue to move into said house and then there's work and wedding planning crap and holy hell I'm busy to infinity. But, I never ignore a proper tag, because I love it when I get tagged, especially by someone who lives in Vienna. I mean, how cool is that?!

8 Things:

Eight things I’m passionate about (interpreted to mean 8 things that get me all sorts of riled up in good or bad ways)
1. homeless or abused pets
2. women’s rights
3. driving in or around Chicago
4. people who think their way is the correct way
5. incidental charges on my bank account or my credit cards
6. Things that are too good to be true
7. Food
8. Brett

Eight things I want to do before I die
1. travel to every continent
2. raise a kid
3. retire
4. feel at home somewhere
5. have more friends than time
6. feel good in my own skin
7. have a garden that produces produce
8. regret less

Eight things I say often
1. “I’m certain I’m not sure”
2. “Uff da” (for real, I say it all the time without even knowing it)
3. “Shut up!” (mainly directed towards Brett because he makes fun of me for saying #2)
4. “Oh yaaa” (spoken like a character in “Fargo”)
5. “Tsst!” (directly at our dogs when they bark at the sky, the wind, invisible forces, etc)
6. “I cannot wait to . . .”
7. “I should really . . .” (clue that I’m a huge procrastinator)
8. “If only we had more money. Sigh.”

Eight books I’ve read recently
1. The Year of Pleasures by Elizabeth Berg
2. Fraud by David Rakoff
3. Dave Barry’s Guide to Guys (What? It was 5 cents at a garage sale a few weekends ago)
4. Broken Promises by a former polygamist about her life living in Mexico as a second wife who’s name I cannot remember
5. The Avon catalog
6. Things to do with a law degree (sometimes I consider a career change)
7. The PMS Outlaws (my sister sends me paperback mysteries and mostly they are crap)
8. Getting the Love you want (the dude who wrote it was on Oprah and I do love me some Oprah recommendations)

Eight movies I’ve seen eight times
1. Top Gun
2. Bull Durham
3. Bridget Jones’ Diary
4. Sliding Doors
5. When Harry Met Sally
6. Field of Dreams
7. Austin Powers
8. The Firm

Totally unbiased

This is funny.