Flag Pole Down

This weekend has been a big success with regards to the yard.  Jon was out of town so that helped a bunch.  He typically hurts this (although there have been times when he has done a lot of work when I was working my two jobs and I couldn’t help.  So, I don’t want to be accused of not giving credit where credit is due!) because he works a lot and never wants to do it and I am a wonderful wife and want to spend time with him.  He was out of town helping with some familial obligations so I decided to go out and get some work done.  One of my favorite things is to work on something when he’s not around so when he arrives it’s a surprise.  I think I like doing this because I LOVE surprises so I enjoy making them happen for others, no matter how small.  However, this weekend was not small (albeit not THAT exciting). 

As luck would have it, my mother called me on Saturday morning to ask me about coming to a Labor Day party on Monday.  We got to talking about how Jon was out of town and how my yard is a horrible fricking disaster that I’m sure makes my neighbors secretly hate me.  She said well, I was planning on working on Rebecca’s house today (my sister-in-law still owns a house from her former single life that my mom has been helping to fix up because she is the in-house maintenance lady ha) but I think I’m going to come help you.  She stated that under the guise that it would be more fun but I think she just feels embarrassed that people she knows from church live by me and know we’re related.  Regardless, she headed over with her tools and we were underway ripping out the weed garden section of my yard around the flag pole.  Yes, you read that right, the flag pole.  The previous owner was in the military so I imagine he found it very important to proudly display the American flag.  I, on the other hand, am lazy and don’t have any motivation to do so. Therefore, it is a gigantic, rusty eyesore. Anywho, we worked on it for about 5 hours together less a lunch break and then she headed home.

The following morning I received another early morning call from my mom. Her ambitious self was on the phone asking me what I was doing that day.  She said, want to take out the flag pole?  Let me provide some additional details about this thing.  The pole is screwed into a brace that is cemented into the ground and with rusted screws it has been extra protected from movement.  Jon and I have been dreading this task as we figured we would have to jack hammer it out and somehow keep it from falling on our house.  Also, the pole is about 40 ft. tall and seemingly made of very heavey plumbing pipe. I begrudgingly said ok thinking that this was heading for disaster.  A 65+ year old woman and a weak, lazy 27 year old are going to end up in the hospital and a hole in the roof of the house.  However, I had apparently underestimated the magic materials that my mother would bring with her.  We tried to unscrew the screws but very quickly confirmed that the rust made it impossible.  So, my mom whipped out this spry and voila, the screws twisting out.  Soon, we found ourselves on the last one.  As it loosened I began pushing on the pole and it began to fall… AND in the opposite direction of my house! Success! Until… it hit the tree limb and got stuck. Because I live in a town very similar to Mayberry, a neighbor man who lets us borrow his tools all of the time just happened to be walking by.  He insisted on helping us and after a few short minutes the pole was safely on the ground… sans any personal injuries!  This was a big win when it comes to my morale. Now I’m on the real mission to finish tearing out the flipping yard so that next year we can begin planting and no longer look like we live in an abandoned drug house. I really only have two more sections  left and I think I can get them done in the next week or so.  Hopefully, I will have a fantastic update soon!

Oh, and btw Jon was surprised.  He kept asking how we did it and I think is not-so-secretly happy that he didn’t have to be a part of it. J

Me pretending to hit the pole as it was stuck in the tree (great art direction by mom).

The Awesome '90s

I love ‘90s music.  Today I was driving into work and this new radio station in the city played Third Eye Blind’s “Graduate.”  It made me so happy because not only is it a very old song but it’s not the typical Third Eye Blind choice of “Semi-Charmed Life.”  To note, though, I like that song as well but only if they play the entire version.  The radio version skips an entire section of the album version of the song.

If my husband saw this post he would totes make fun of me.  He had a roomie in college who loved TEB and he always made fun of him.  To note, though, I don’t just love Third Eye Blind.  I also am a big fan of earlier Bare Naked Ladies… like “The Old Apartment,” not “One Week,” and other ‘90s bands. 

I think this music reminds me of growing up and that’s why I like it.  It makes me sad that the new college class was born in 1994 so missed half of the decade of music (I feel like this post is exaggerating my love of this music but that’s ok and also all of the music that I refer to occurred in the late ‘90s so my point is kind of poor). Although, I don’t feel that you have to have lived through the creation of something to appreciate it.  I am a big fan of oldies music (referring to ‘50s – ‘70s, not ‘90s) and I feel that I can appreciate it.  But I don’t have the same feelings associated with it as I do the ‘90s because I don’t have specific experiences related to it. Like how “Everybody in the Club Getting Tips(y)” reminds me of freshman year in college (although I mean I totally was never in the club getting tips(y) my freshman year b/c I was underage and that would have been totally illegal!). Although, that is not a ‘90s example so let me think of one.  Semisonic’s “Closing Time” makes me think of my long-ago friend (except on Facebook, we’re totally Facebook friends), Tara.  We would sit on her deck and talk about what 7^th/8^th grade girls talk about… probably guys and people we didn’t like… so I guess not much different from what we talk about now.  We would always have on Q102 or probably what was KISS107, maybe Channel Z at the time (although that may have been alternative), I can’t remember. OH and get ready for this awesome example.  How Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" reminds me of the first dance I ever had with a boy (awkward! that song is like 27 minutes long and he was really hot and I was a complete nerd. we didn't talk or look at each other the entire time.). True story.

I’m now wasting time youtubing ‘90s music.  Jon is going out of town (again!) so I’m pretty sure that at some point this weekend you will be able to find me blaring some ‘90s and singing very, very badly, very, very loudly. Suggestions for songs to youtube would be appreciated!!

How Louboutin's Changed Me :)

About two years ago I did the dumbest and one of the most enjoyable things I’ve ever done in my life.  I bought a pair of $700 Christian Louboutin’s.  Now, I don’t feel like I NEED to rationalize this, but I WANT to.  Honestly, fiscally it was a horrible, terrible decision.  And quite honestly, I understand the probably 90 percent of people who see them can’t tell a difference between them and a $30 pair of Steve Maddens.  However, I didn’t do it for everyone else. I do not buy Coach bags and I don’t own any other pair of shoes that is even over $100… I actually cringe at spending $75 on every other pair.  These shoes were something I had dreamed about for years.  I fell in love with the red soles and had a goal that before I died I wanted a pair. I was going on a business trip to LA and knew that there was a Louboutin store there. Long story short, I left LA with a pair of shoes and a high credit card bill. Note that somewhere in there, there was panicking, sweating, stressing, freaking out,etc.

Two years later I don’t regret the decision.  Not only have these shoes brought a joy to my life that realistically no material item should bring, they have also brought along some other unexpected benefits.  One of the smaller benefits is that they have sparked conversations and have helped me relate to at least two people who love them as well.  The weirder benefit, though, is that they have opened my mind and caused me to be less judgmental. I know you’re thinking, ok, crazy lady.  How the hell do a pair of shoes do that to you? Well, let me explain.  When you buy a ridiculously expensive pair of shoes one must understand that other people judge you and feel as though you probably could have spent your money more responsibly.  And sometimes that can get slightly annoying.  Because it is my money, that I have worked my ass off for since I was 15.  I can spend my money on whatever piece of crap I want to.  I am not in debt (besides my house but I’m told that doesn’t count).  I have never needed anyone to pay for anything (except for my parents who let me borrow money to pay for my college tuition which I have since paid back but I also don’t think that counts!). I feel that you don’t have the right to tell me how to spend my money.  Which in turn, has made me feel that I can’t tell anyone else how to spend theirs.  I have been on that Coach-bashing train before.  “Who would spend $300 on a purse??!! That is so dumb.” I can’t say that anymore. I didn’t judge when a co-worker who lives with his parents to save money decided to join an extraordinarily expensive golf club. I don’t judge expensive car purchasers.  I feel more open to the thought that your money is your money and as long as you’re not inconveniencing anyone else with your decision then do what you want… thanks to a pair of shoes.

PS – This morning at work I made some comment about how I don’t like to waste money because I was being made fun of for using a flip phone (I know, I know. So ‘00s!).  The response I received to that was, Really? Red-bottomed shoes? J

Meh, Good Enough

Ok, so I’m going to call this a win and you can’t do anything about it.  One of my list things is to plan a ladies night.  To be perfectly honest, my main group of lady friends and I are kind of growing apart.  It’s not like an I hate you sort of thing, but more like much of our friendships were based on going out.  Between weddings, trying to have babies, and buying houses the going out thing has waned.  With that being said, planning a ladies night with them can be difficult.  So, I am adding two events up to equal me scratching “Plan a Ladies Night” off the list.

The first event is occurring today. I have planned an afternoon happy hour for me and one of my co-workers.  She and I are conducting an interview together and I said that we should calibrate at the bar (Kidding other HR people! Kidding!).  I think we’re going to do something classy like go to a couple of wine bars and maybe eat some fire roasted pizza or whatever it’s called.  I did research to find good places to go in the city, and to find places we’ve never been before.  My work friend is a tryer of new things kind of person.  I am too but she’s a tad bit more adventurous (and single so it makes it easier without this ball-and-chain I call my husband.  I kid! I kid! Sheesh, so sensitive).  Anyway, I had numerous possibilities that I narrowed down and consulted with her to confirm.  The first place that we are going is more uncool because it’s a chain, and is of course the place I picked. The second is a place she suggested and is conveniently 3 minutes away from the first place (or a 30 minute walk, we looked it up because we thought we would be cool and hippy-like and help save the planet without 3 minutes of exhaust but it turns out that we’re lazier than we care about the planet).

This part I consider the bulk of the completion of this line item.  I planned it, with a girl, and it’s in the evening which equals night to me.  However, if I’m being completely honest, my original intention was for this to be one of those crazy party nights.  However, my age is causing my liver to shut down much faster than it used to so crazy party nights are few and far between. BUT! Lucky for me my friend’s bachelorette party is tomorrow night.  It is going to be crazy… at least I think it is (but not really sure how I feel about that. Oy vey).  I think it will mostly be my friends and we will have fun and that really equals a girls night.  So again, I think that my planning of today + the ladies night tomorrow = success.  Scratch!

Bambinos

I want to preface this post with saying that I love babies.  I have 8 adorable nieces and nephews, from 12 years old to just a few weeks. Although it is not exactly the same as what I am about to post about, I remember when the first one was born and I bombarded my friends with stories about her birth and all of the cute things she did.  I understand the excitement and the wanting to share everything (at least as much as an aunt vs. a mommy can).

Lately I've been feeling a little frustrated.  I'm 27 and many of my friends are getting on with the having a baby thing (and I'm beyond perfectly happy that I'm not yet there).  I know that one day I will completely relate but I can't help but sometimes find myself annoyed with it.  I don't mean to be disrespectful, I just want to know about other things going on in your life.  I found this article that I think is nice and kind of helps illustrate how I feel.

http://www.babble.com/baby/baby-care/advice-for-new-mom-obsessed-baby-overload-2/

Crazy Dog Lady

I have excellent news! I can scratch one item off of my list! Drum roll please… On Friday I took Lola to doggy daycare.  My hubs and I were working all day and then he was leaving to go out of town.  I was going to a Reds game so I felt bad that she would be home alone all day, less about 2 hours.  A few months ago I had been told that a guy that works with me takes his dog to daycare a couple of times a week so I asked him about it.  It’s a place a couple of minutes from work that doesn’t kennel them and you can do 24 hour drop-off (which I need since I had to drop her at 6am).  The best part of the place, though, is that there are webcams. I’ve kept this place in mind for a while but never actually pulled the trigger.  When I found out on Thursday that both of us would be gone all day I thought that this was the time to try it. The entire day I pummeled my co-worker with questions about the place: Do they have water? How do they discipline them? How often do they let them out? Etc. etc…etc. etc. I actually called them after work to get my questions answered that he couldn’t.  I started feeling okay about doing it.

The following morning my alarm went off at 5am I got myself and the pup ready and we headed off.  The place was pretty easy to find, minus my bad eyesight and turning onto the wrong street.  I parked, went up to the door and hit the doorbell, which caused lots of barking.  A girl opened the door for me and Lola and I walked in.  The girl took Lola from me immediately and put her in the holding room (which looked like a closet).  She came back to me to do my paperwork.  The entire time I was standing there with the lady Lola was whining and jumping up to see out of the window in the door.  To be completely honest, my heart was breaking a bit.  I mean I knew she would have fun but I felt like I didn’t get to hug her and say goodbye (like she really knows what that means) and that she was whining to get to me.

I drove away a little sad but I was rushing in order to get to my desk and put on the webcam.  I have two monitors at work so all day I worked on one while Lola was on the other (luckily, I have a nice work that doesn’t accuse me of being a slacker by doing this). Everyone in my organization found out about the doggy daycare and the webcams so multiple times that day people stopped by to check on her. Which meant me trying to figure out which dog was her and watching her run around.  She didn’t sit down the entire day (even at naptime, shocker!).

I was relieved when the clock struck 3pm and I was able to run out the door and speed to the daycare.  I told the front desk I was there to pick up Lola so she walk-talkied someone and told her to find Lola.  The lady couldn’t find her.  In their defense there are about 20-30 dogs there and they don’t wear any kind of identification so I’m not sure how they know who is who. Also, the girl who had been there all day was leaving so the person trying to find Lo had just arrived.  It took her about 15 minutes to find her.  While standing there, the girl who had been there all day was clocking out and she said, “Are you picking up Lola?” I said yes and she said, “Just so you know, she has worms.” Talk about feeling like a bad parent.  I was shocked. The girl seemed so judgey about it too it made me feel horrible. 

They finally brought her out and I got to the car and immediately called the vet.  They were pretty casual about it (which made me feel better) and just said we don’t need to see her, just come and pickup some meds.  So, I sped there, thinking that my poor baby was suffering (I know nothing about this).  Also, Lo was acting super weird.  I mean I know she was tired but when she came out she didn’t seem happy to see me and just seemed weird.

After picking her up and heading to the vet, we arrived safely home.  Lo basically ran to the door.  She ran to her water bowl and drank like half of it.  I’m not sure what their water policy is but now I’m worried that they kept her thirsty the entire day but maybe it was just from playing… I have to do more investigation. After that she clumped to the floor.  I gave her the meds and she slept until I left for the Reds game.

The next day I woke up and Lo had slept in. Yay for being tuckered out but she was still acting a little weird. I let her outside and the weird thing was that she was worm-free.  The vet had told me that dead ones would probably be visible even after taking the pill.  So now, I’m thinking that I have overmedicated my already exhausted and weird-acting dog because the daycare got her confused with another dog.  I’m not sure how I feel about this.  I mean, maybe I’m wrong and this pill miraculously solved the problem and she no longer shows signs.  Or maybe, they just honestly mistook her for another dog.  I’m not sure but I don’t know if I should be angry or understanding.  What would a good mother do?  Should I call and complain? Never take her there again? Or just say oh well, she is new, this stuff happens?

Also, I told my mother-in-law last night about how Lola acted weird for a couple of days afterwards.  She said, well she was old enough to remember being at the pound so maybe that’s what she thought was going on.  Again, I feel like a horrible mother! Did she think I was abandoning her?  Then I think maybe I’m crazy and dogs don’t really have thoughts like that, I don’t know.  I’m torn and think I can never handle a child after this traumatic experience. J

 Lola's First Day of School! (Sorry for the bad image quality)

 Lola after her first day of school...

Could Be Worse?

I have to admit that I’m having a bad day - the kind of day when you feel that you should have called in sick and curled up under the covers.  It’s not even one of those kind of funny bad days, like when you wake up late, spill coffee on your shirt and get to work realizing you have on two different colored shoes.  It’s the kind of day that you realize you messed something up and have to pay for it.  I haven’t had one of these days in a very long time. I feel like I could cry at any moment and on top of all of this my hubby is out of town for work. Blargh, no hugs.  Although, this is one time I’m really, really happy I have a puppy who will be unbelievably happy to see me no matter how bad I messed up.

I feel that when I was in grade school I had bad days a lot more.  I’m not sure if it was because someone else was in charge of me so I had less control over my life, if I was just insulted way more (adults learn to do it behind your back), or if I was just kind of a mess as a kid.  I remember being hot all of the time (likely due to being a pudge) until I had the ingenious idea to stop wearing sweatshirts that I couldn’t take off.  Honestly, as I think about it I feel that most of my bad days were a result of being hot.  Man, why did it take me so long to figure that one out? I also remember this one day when my rage got the best of me.  I’m pretty sure some boy had taken a pair of scissors from me or something like that and he refused to give them back.  So, me being calm, cool and collected, I became infuriated and was yelling(ish) at him.  Suddenly, I think I blacked out and hit him on the head as hard as I could.  It was like I had become possessed because I was a good kid and never used physical force (except one time when it was completely warranted but that’s a story for another day). He gave me back the scissors but I immediately started crying because I felt so guilty and honestly never intended to do that. I guess looking at today I can say at least I didn’t inadvertently smack someone on the head. That probably would have been worse.

PS – I was working on the yard again and again have poison ivy rash.  No fear though, I think I got it because I forgot to use the Dawn after and it’s 95% less bad than last time. So working on the yard is no longer a complete fail, just partial. Score!

Status: Overall Fail

In short, I'm pretty much failing at completing anything on this list.  Here is current status:

Redo Bath - Fail (Not enough available resources, ie. we're poor)
Have a Sleepover - Fail 
Hang With My Nieces and Nephews - Fail (This makes me super sad)
Tear Out Yard - Fail (This is a fail on my end but it is getting done because I have super husband)
Make 3 Recipes/Week - Fail (This is making my husband very happy)
Take Lola to Daycare - Fail (Same resource issue as before)
Plan a Ladies Night - Fail
Attend a Class at Findlay Market - Fail (but my super husband bought a Groupon for sushi making class there)
Hit Goal Weight - EPIC FAIL
Be a Yes Person - Kind of Fail

So all in all I'm doing pretty well.

The Moral of the Story

In fourth grade I was not the most popular kid, shocker. I wore a lot of elastic stirrup pants. Our schedule was messed up for some reason because I was in the red-headed step child class(no offense red heads or step children). My class ate lunch really late so we were provided a snack time.

One day I had purchased a pack of starburst from the school vending machine, which is super surprising because I always got Gardettos snack mix (saving the best for last - rye chips, duh). During snack time this particular day we were sitting on the floor listening to a story or some lesson. I happily chomped down my starburst just as you would expect a pudgy little fourth grader to do. Nearing the end of the pack I carefully unwrapped an unknowingly wily piece. I popped it into my mouth and began to chew, the juicy flavors swishing in my mouth, when suddenly this fruity candy jumped out, flying in the air. As any good super Nintendo player, I had excellent eye-hand coordination, and went to catch this roaming sugary mass. However, for some reason this piece was particularly bouncy. It hit my hand and bounded right out directly into the miniscule gap in the back of a girls pants in front of me (clearly not wearing elastic stirrup pants). Talk about being astonished. I shockingly surveyed the room to find that sense of camaraderie one looks for when something amazing happens. Yet no one else was reacting so I was left alone in awe. As the lesson finished up I debated thoroughly on whether or not to tell this girl what had just occurred. While I am typically one to save face, for some reason I couldn't help but think when this girl finds a chewed piece of candy in her pants she is going to be completely and utterly dumbfounded. So after the lesson I half laughed and whole embarrassed informed this girl that chewed starburst had leapt into her pants. Directly in front of me she angrily shoved her hand down her slacks and retrieved it.

The next day I purchased Gardettos.

You're welcome.

Authenticity

As a continuation of my previous post I would like to inform you, reader, that I was working on the side of my house this weekend.  After only 10 or so minutes of working out there I looked down and had what looked to me to be small ticks all over my shirt, and some on my legs that I could feel pinching me.  Jon thinks they were small spiders (I’m a city girl, ok? I don’t know anything about bugs).  As soon as I realized this I screamed, brushed them all off of me and went running inside.  I started yelling for my husband and began stripping all of my clothes off.  Jon would have been into that until he realized that I was taking all of my clothes off to rid myself of potential critters. Over the next hour Jon had the blissful task of checking all of my body that could not be self-inspected for any rogue creatures. The joys of being married…and home ownership.

Unrelated and pretty much unfunny, I have been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be your authentic self.  This actually started from the dumbest thing ever.  I was watching a terrible show on Bravo called Miss Advised and this topic came up.  I can’t speak for anyone else but it is something that I have struggled with my entire life.  I think it has a lot to do with an incessant need to be wanted, liked, popular, etc.  I also have a very conservative family, 3 of the members are my older siblings (I’m the beby) so I always wanted to be like them and therefore did not want to get made fun of by them (although that’s hilarious in my family since that’s all we do). I never wanted to disappoint my parents and so there have been things that I have kept hidden.  I mean to most outsiders I would say that the things that I have hidden are not really that big of a deal but just things to keep my parents from getting upset.

I think that as I have gotten older, and honestly I would say a lot within the last few months, I’ve been trying to give up that fake, not real self, that I pretty much always have been.  The thing that I have identified (and is sad at 27 that I’m just really starting to figure this out) is that people like my real self better than my fake self.  It’s funny how people have some sense of the fakeness, whether they are cognizant of it or not. However, the problem is that I have trouble always determining what is the real vs. the not so real or the straight up just not real.  I guess in short, I don’t really know who I am sometimes.  I imagine this is just a part of being young(ish) but probably also has been contributed to by the fact that for most of my life I haven’t been myself.

I think that this blog, in part, is a piece of me owning who I am.  I’m not really hiding anything here, as this is clearly a blog written as stream of consciousness for the most part. To take this a bit further though I’m about to list a few things that I am letting go and just owning. I’ll always be a WIP (work-in-progress or process for you non-business school people ha) so I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to share everything.

·         I bite my nails a lot, especially when I’m anxious or excited about something.  I’m trying to stop this b/c I like French manis and they don’t look as good when you have tiny fingernails.

·         I have some sort of weird OCD-esque thing about paper.  I can’t throw it away unless it has been used on both sides.  It’s horribly annoying b/c I have this giant box of scrap paper because of it.

·         I would like to have a better relationship with my family.  We are close in a sense but we never hang out really unless it’s like an obligatory holiday or birthday party. I think I may be the only one who feels that way though because everyone else has kids and I think they are busy with them.

·         I have two really weird fears, both of which I’m pretty sure I got from dateline or 20/20.

1.       WARNING: K DO NOT READ THIS!! I have a fear that a snake is going to come up through the pipes and come out of a toilet in my house.  I’m especially afraid of this at times when I’m actually using the restroom. :/

2.       This is a bad one.  One time I watched a story about a man who murdered his neighbors and he said that he did it in his sleep.  I mean I logically know that this is absolutely crazy BUT people sleep eat, and sleep have sex and weird stuff like that.  So, really, why couldn’t someone sleep murder?  I have a fear that I am going to pick up a knife in my sleep and stab someone. I know this is insane. 

·         Sometimes I wonder if I have some mild form of depression.  I especially feel it when I’m alone and bored but feel it somewhat during other times as well.

I feel the need to leave this on a positive note.  I feel that with all of my craziness and silly self-reflection, I have a really good life.  I honestly have THE best husband on the face of the planet and I have a really great family.  It is nice to know I have help whenever I need it and that I have a lot of people to make fun of. J

That Poison

The list item I am currently working on is tearing out the m****** f****** yard. I apologize for my bad language which is not typical of me (except lately for some reason I’ve been using the f word a lot, sorry mom!) but if nothing else deserves such bad language, my yard does.  My house was an estate sale, and no, no one died in the house. Apparently though the old lady who lived in it before us lived to garden.  Much of our yard has been gardened and it’s infuriating.  The reason is that I’m sure at one time it was lovely but from what we have been told, she got sick the last one to two years of her life and couldn’t keep it up.  The house was then on the market for almost a year and her family definitely didn’t see a need to keep the yard up.  All of these things + 2 years of living there with minimal work done to it (unbelievably there were more important projects to work on first + our wedding) = a jungle in the midst of Northern Kentucky.

This Spring/Summer we have been in a good position to work on it. Jon and I have been really bad about wearing any protective items because we’re tough and awesome, or so I thought. I have been warned to stop wearing flip flops while shoveling (I know, I know) and to watch out for poison ivy (which I have never experienced so am clearly not allergic to so why wear long sleeves in 104 degree weather??).  Well, one particular day I tore out this fairly small area that was just jam packed with horrible greenery.  The next day I found this weird bump on my toe and then broke out on my nose (infuriating b/c I am 27 and should not be breaking out).  I then found a few bumps on my arm.  I started panicking about what I am allergic to now as I had literally just recovered from a hive attack after being exposed to a laundry additive that makes your clothes smell good (I can’t help that I’m a delicate little flower!).  More and more bumps started showing up so I asked Dr. Mom to look at it.  She immediately said, “That’s poison ivy.”  I mean duh, I should have put that together but I honestly thought I wasn’t allergic. My mom is smarter than me though and is a poison ivy expert because if she stands near it and the wind blows I swear her eyes swell shut.

As the hours and days passed the rash continued to spread…my chin, the sides of my face, neck, my arms, literally covering my stomach (including the inside of my belly button, vom) and thighs, and my bikini line (I swear I had shorts on). My WTB hubs kept encouraging me to go to the doctor but I kept saying no because I’m stubborn and well, just plain dumb.  The reason I was saying that is because by the time I really realized how bad it was, parts of me were already healing.  However, for those of you fortunate enough to have never experienced this atrocious reaction, there are not words to describe how truly miserable it is.  When you have one bump it is really annoying but when it is covering your entire body you want to rip off every piece of your skin.  Again, I am dumb.  Finally, when I developed an unrelated case of bronchitis did I go to the doctor.  While I was there, I showed her part of my rash (PART, mind you) and the horrified reaction from her really made me feel better (I for realsies love my doc).  She shot me up with some steroids and I’m now back in the game.

This story was just to illustrate the use of mfing and why I hate working on my yard.  I will forge on though b/c I’m a bad ass… and also because I now shower with Dawn after every single time I do yard work.

This is a VERY small sample of the ridiculousness of the yard (this is also after days of working on this area). You can barely see it but in the very back of the photo there is a thing that looks like a bush in the lefthand corner.  That is where the PI culprit resided.

Gut Puncher

Welp, the whole reason for the list and the purpose of this blog have totally just gone to hell.  My WTB husband’s visa has just been denied. Now, before you think, “Good Lord what has this man done?” it wasn’t his fault, apparently.  From what I have been told (3^rd hand) the UK has changed some regulations with regards to work visas and people at his level will not get them approved.  They feel that people in the UK should be able to do the work.

Punch. In. The. Gut.

I’m not going to lie, when I found out yesterday I seriously thought I was going to start crying.  I was just unbelievably sad for my WTB hubs.  He was so looking forward to it and now his dream (that may be a little dramatic) has been crushed. I was telling my friend that it bothers me so much because he is such a good person and it doesn’t make sense. Cliché – Why do bad things happen to good people?  If it happened to me it would make complete sense. I am a HORRIBLE person!

I’ve been feeling kind of down lately anyway and this news just made me feel worse.  I get that hopeless feeling that things happening has no purpose.  You might just get the crap end of the stick. However, while I wanted the WTB hubs to know how sad I was for him, I did not want to go around moping.  So, after I got off of job #2 (which is at a retail store and for the record is not a necessary evil, I just like punishing myself) I decided to take him out.  Now, please note that this was a Monday evening and I got off at 9:45.  I go to job #1 (my real work) at 630am so I usually go to bed at 10/1030/11. I felt that we needed a little pep so I didn’t tell him where we were going and took him to…drum roll… Steak and Shake.  Listen, this was all I could come up with. I have to say that whether or not our little outing helped him, it sure helped me (in the uplifting sort of way, not in the weight-losing kind since I consumed not only a chocolate shake but French fries as well). I dubbed it a mini date.

The question for you now, reader, is whether or not I will continue this blog when, as mentioned before the ENTIRE PURPOSE has diminished.  Don’t be worried, though. I find that not sharing my hilarity in print would be selfish.  I’m thinking the concept will remain the same, crossing things off of the list, I just won’t be doing it so alone.  So the title of this blog is completely worthless but it started out with good intentions so I think I’ll just leave it because just maybe in this sense things do happen for a reason.  We shall see.

STL.

When one’s WTB husband decides to trot off to the jolly ol’ UK for 3 months what would you expect one to do? You’ve guessed it. Take a girl’s trip immediately prior to his departure. I’d like to think of it as a tad bit of revenge.  However, he probably enjoyed it more than I did (no offense K, Jon just really, really likes times away from me).  I also have this problem that a few times a year I feel trapped in my sweet Midwestern city (shocker!!) and need to get out of it.  So, as any normal person who needs to get out of their Midwestern city would do, I visited ANOTHER Midwestern city, the STL.  Brilliant.

As you might imagine the trip was full of all-consuming, dramatic and adventurous times.  Ok, that is what I would like to think happened.  Instead, it was filled with Scrabble and Boggle playing, napping, nursing a hangover, and taking photos in front of things (not actually experiencing them). Jealous, eh??  It was actually a lot of fun.  We met some interesting strangers, ie. the cabby who provided life advice that hit a little too close to home for some of us (oopsies), a bartender at the classy hotel bar passing around the rumor that K and I are on a mission to get F’ed up (real word, not just F!!), the man in the teeny tiny Arch pod holding 5 people being loud and obnoxious telling us about Whooppass, MS (insert southern accent and note to all of you outgoing people – SHUT UP when you are in a teeny tiny tram crammed with 5  people), and the old Floridian men who tried to befriend me when purchasing hotel Tylenol out of a vending machine (when you are 50, dressed in clothes like Carey Hart and carrying a 12-pack of PBR, I’m not interested in talking to you.  This should have been made clear when I continued to face in the opposite direction as you and avoid eye contact despite all of your attempts). I should have known that when my travel companion, K, who was behind the wheel on our journey there, posed the question, “Where are we going?” this was going to be a raucous vacay.

One negative thing about this trip was that I actually missed my WBT hubs A LOT.  It is a skerry thing since I was only away from him for 1/21th of the time he’ll be away (check my math 4/84 days). I guess this should be where I talk about the importance once again of the list but my bummerness about him leaving is making it difficult (I’m also extraordinarily hungry at the moment). 

Speaking of the list, I’m F’ing one thing up currently.  Hit My Goal Weight.  To be honest, this one kind of started as a cheater item.  I started the year out at 171.2, whoach.  I started doing weightwatchers and training for a 5k.  I’ve already lost about 20 lbs. so only have about 15 left.  This is still a significant amount of weight to lose but I already have momentum so that’s why I feel like I’m being a cheater.  Who is the ref though? I’m playing the game, making the rules, and reffing this shiz. This vacation + the 4^th of July holiday has pushed me back quite significantly so now I have to RE-lose weight. Blargh. (Plus! I have a groupon to get some dolsot bibimbab at Riverside Korean.  Delish but soooo bad. OMG so hungry.)

It may only be 11:09am but I am off to microwave my lunch.  Yeah, yeah insert joke about being 90.

Half It

It has been a while since my first post and I apologize dear reader (no s, singular ha) and I apologize sincerely for this.  Part of this is because I’ve been busy (but who isn’t so that’s not a proper excuse) and part of this is because Jon got some additional news which makes me feel as though my first post was a bit dramatic.  However, in my life, everything is a little bit (or a lot bit) dramatic because it makes things more interesting.  Also, I have a very difficult time living in the unknown.  I would rather get bad news than continue to wonder WTF IS GOING ON!?!?!?  I THINK MY LIFE IS GOING TO BE RUINED BUT I’M NOT SURE AND MIGHT BE TOTALLY FINE BUT I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING AHAHAHAHHHHH.

Oh yes, Jon’s news.  He is now only going to be in London for 3 months.  He was told that there is a slight possibility that he could be staying for 6 but it is highly unlikely.  Are you ready for me to sound like a terrible wife? Are you sure? Positive? Well, here goes. I’m a little disappointed!  Now before you get all judgey face on me, note that there is a good reason or two and yes one of them is that I’m completely insane and a little bit of a masochist.  The real reason is that I struggle consistently with the idea of a traditional life (hence getting married only after a mere 9 years of dating).  I like doing things that other people don’t typically do. I felt like Jon being in Londy for a ½ year would put us, in a way, on an opposite path from that traditional life (can’t have babies if you’re not in the same country… well, I guess I COULD but it would either mean some cray scientific thing or I’m just straight up being a floozy, neither of which I’m not particularly interested in).

This now leads me to the question of the list, which started this whole bloggy in the first place.  What do I do? Do I just say F it? Do I try to cram jam them all into half the time? Do I shave the list a little? Or, and this is what I’m leaning towards, start with just one of those list items and see where it takes me?  Maybe this blog will be about completing just one of these items (but I can’t imagine you would be too excited to read a blog about me taking my dog to daycare once a week, talk about awesome!). 

Speaking of the list, I have realized that I forgot to post it.  Please note that this is in my kitchen on the chalkboard that my wonderful, beautiful, and talented husband painted for me.  Also note that there is already something scratched off of the list.  Despite his best efforts, my wbt hubby’s BFF tried to add something without me noticing. I did however, and refuse to complete it.  He got me a cake pop pan for my birthday and will NOT shut up about me making them … It’s like the bowling ball with Homer’s name on it!! Anyone? Anyone? *sigh*

London Calling

My wonderful, beautiful, and talented husband has just decided to turn our world upside down.  "Decided to" may be a little bit of an exaggeration but it's more fun to blame him so it's totes his fault.

I'll provide some background... The company he works for has offices all over the globe and they do an exchange program for employees who are interested. Jon had volunteered to do this every time the opportunity has arisen - Singapore for a month, Brazil for 2 weeks, etc.  Each time he thought he was going he would eventually be left disappointed, while I may have secretly been celebrating.

Recently the opportunity presented itself for an exchange to their offices in London. Naturally, Jon volunteered (side note: Jon and I got married in October so it has been less than a year. Should I be concerned he's taking any opportunity possible to get away? I don’t think I should be as I look so delicious that people want to eat me...or maybe it was just a really drunk girl at my wedding who told me that but that's besides the point).To my surprise a couple of weeks ago he was told there was an 85% chance that he would be going...for 3 months. While this is an extremely long time for him to be away, being the naturally supportive and fantastic wife that I always am I encouraged him to go. Not only am I a huge fan of London but he would be there during the Olympics. No brainer! I foolishly thought.

Since then we have anxiously been awaiting official news (anxious may or may not mean Annie telling everyone she passed on the street until Jon had to tell her to stop even though she had already easily told everyone she knows. But this is all hypothetical or something like that).

Finally, yesterday morning Jon got the great news! It had been confirmed that he is going to London! Yay for Jon and all of those lovely accented Brits who get to spend time with my wonderful husband, except for the girls (whores!). There are just a couple of kinks in this plan: numero uno is that he’s supposed to be starting July 9th, less than a month from now but we’ll manage. Numero dos, and this is the kicker, it's for 6 months! Now I'm hyperventilating, overflowing with excitement for his wonderful opportunity and sickness for being away for such an ungodly amount of time. I think I forgot to mention that as a 27 year old adult I HATE with a PASSION being alone!!!!! I thought if the caps didn't drive home the severity of my feelings that the punctuation would.

And thus Annie created the blog in 35 minutes and planned to rest for the next 60. Bible reference get it? Er, ok so it wasn't that good.

In order to keep from going absolutely bat shit cray, I started a list of things I wanted to accomplish while he's away. I'm hoping that this becomes the journey of scratching these things off of my list, no matter how mundane the path to scratching becomes. That sounded a little unhygienic.

Some of the items are more specific than others and you are more than welcome to judge the specificness or lack there of but this is my list and not yours so shut up. Or make your own. I expect my list to evolve over time or rather I’m really hoping more than anything that it does. What’s a journey without some fun and exciting twists and turns? Am I right guys or am I right?

So cheers to happy scratching! Eck, you know what I mean.