Life, in recent weeks, has been that of a NFL football game: unfair, intense, and down-right dirty. At this current moment I feel like Drew Bledsoe in 2000; getting my ass handed to me by a fourth string young quarterback from Michigan. Now, if you are from New England or a New England Patriots fan, you know exactly what I am speaking of; Tom freakin' Brady, the man, the myth, the legend. Yes, the man who managed to snag one of the hottest supermodels in the world, the 'Lord of the Rings', the unattainable, undeniable, sports Super Hero. For the rest of us? Ya, we are more like Drew; sitting on the sidelines watching the Super Hero crush what we had so carefully built. Let's be honest, does anyone even know what Drew is up to these days? If I were to guess? Sitting on the couch eating Cheetos and doughnuts drinking Miller High Life as Brady waltzes down the red carpet with Giselle. Life, my friends is that of a NFL football game: unfair, intense, and down right D-I-R-T-Y.
It started a few weeks ago my friends. I became the old school Drew from 2000. The moment I would recover from a Vince Wilfork kinda sack, I would get another one from Mankin. Sack after metaphorical sack, I realized that my time on the ground was starting to get a bit comfy. After all it would be easier to just park my sorry ass at home and give up. You know that vision I depicted in the previous paragraph? It doesn't seem SO bad. (Cheeto's ARE friggen good, and hey, let's not kind ourselves: we have all lived the high life...) Giving up, for many, is the answer. But I realized that a part of me, had a Tom Brady kind of drive. And when I tell you I got sacked? I GOT SACKED. Anything that you could physically imagine going wrong, DID.
I once read that people actually don't really listen to you when you are complaining about your life. I mean, we all have shitty ass days we wish would disappear forever. Why bore you with the particulars? But I can tell you from this standpoint, if I were a referee? Unnecessary Roughness and TOO MANY MEN ON THE FIELD.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Paint and Kitty Paw Prints
I am a firm believer that curiosity killed the kitty.
Or maybe it was the frustrated human, shaking it's head at the adorable curious kitty who has seemingly embraced the talent of "ruining" everything in it's path...
Either way, I am proud to admit that there is never a dull moment with Sinatra, Oscar, and now Savannah, (a puppy who likes to cause a little trouble as well).
Although I would hate to admit it, I have yet to complete the projects that beg to be completed throughout the house. In fact, I happily walk by the boxes that blanket the office floor and the screwdrivers that have become an ever pressing staple of decor throughout our home. But somewhere deep within our beings, we decided to do a little around the house this past weekend.
Sounds good right?
WELL, don't jump to any conclusions just yet....
As I was making dinner Monday night I hear the boys in the living room say "Why does she look wet." In my head, I am thinking Savannah must have got in her water dish, or even yet, Sinatra or Oscar fell in the toilet again. (No matter how many times I tell Dru that Sinatra and Oscar are boys, he calls them girls). Relatively unfazed, I continue making my chicken lasagna roll-ups until I hear, "Is that paint?"
Tomato sauce in hand, I follow the curious boys down the hallway into Dru's room where the paint tray is surrounded by cat prints. Upon further investigation, not only was Dru's room covered with kitty paint prints but the hallway, and our bedspread.
Sinatra had found his curious little self in the paint tray.
How? I'd like to think he was coerced, by a villainous gray kitty by the name of Oscar...
I imagine, however, it was all three of the jungle animals running wildly about, celebrating our negligence.We did in fact, fail to put away the paint tray upon use..
As for getting the paint off Sinatra,
This pretty much explains it all.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Take A Break
If there is one word that describes our present state of mind it is: L A Z Y. We have been in the new house for about two weeks and the only monumental project we have completed is well, a closet door. What did we do to that door? We painted it. Y E P. Two weeks, one door. Although I am being highly sarcastic, I really don't mind that we haven't been busting our asses trying to get everything done. A break is a freaking necessity. And you know what was really nice?
Saturday evening spending the night in carving pumpkins, burning pumpkin seeds, and drinking a few brews.
Little by little, our home is becoming our home. Memories are being made, and little by little we are creating the life that we have both envisioned. I honestly wake up happy, regardless of the messes, and projects that eagerly await our busy hands. I am home.
It is always nice to know that a break...is sometimes what we need...
Saturday evening spending the night in carving pumpkins, burning pumpkin seeds, and drinking a few brews.
Little by little, our home is becoming our home. Memories are being made, and little by little we are creating the life that we have both envisioned. I honestly wake up happy, regardless of the messes, and projects that eagerly await our busy hands. I am home.
It is always nice to know that a break...is sometimes what we need...
 |
| {Pinterest} |
Monday, October 17, 2011
The Move
I am seriously beginning to question those who "move" for a living or "remodel" for a living. Sure, the paycheck may be nice, but what about their sanity? I nearly lost mine....
Although we were up to 1:30 Saturday morning packing and finishing up the house, we found the energy to crawl out of bed, throw on some jeans, and put our arm muscles to work. Within 45 minutes our belongings were carefully placed into a big ol' moving truck (that we thankfully got to borrow from Chris's grandmother), and were en route to Georgia. At that moment, I couldn't believe that I was moving yet again.
Internally, my brain was wandering a mile a minute as I drove 55 mph down the Interstate. 4 times in one year I said to myself. 4 times! From New Hampshire to Chattanooga. From Chattanooga to East Ridge. From East Ridge to Tiftonia/Lookout Valley. From Tiftonia/Lookout Valley to Rossville, Georgia. Silently, I wondered if my journey was over; if Georgia was my final destination, my official place to call home. Through tired eyes, I watched as the moving truck slowly followed behind in the rear view mirror. Metaphorically, the act of gazing in the rear-view, has been much of my life; continually moving forward yet taking the time to look back. At what? Perhaps, at once was or what I left behind. But nevertheless, I kept moving and pressed the gas pedal a little harder. (But not too fast, I didn't want to lose my moving truck).
As I pulled into the driveway with Chris, I realized that we were home, regardless if the hallway was still heavily decorated with paint cans and splatters of primer that we neglected to clean up. I smiled to myself as we closed the doors of the car, and opened the truck revealing all of our belongings. Although I was happy, I cursed at the work we still had to do...like unpack...paint...sand...clean...
But I knew that there was only so much we could do before our bodies said: "NO MORE. I QUIT" which they undoubtedly did at 6pm Saturday evening upon hot showers and food in the belly. Always the one to prioritize, Chris set up the TV within an hour of moving in, so we CRASHED on the couch and watched movies the rest of the night beer and wine in hand.
Ah, the simple things in life...the other shit can wait...
And to finish this post off:
Although we were up to 1:30 Saturday morning packing and finishing up the house, we found the energy to crawl out of bed, throw on some jeans, and put our arm muscles to work. Within 45 minutes our belongings were carefully placed into a big ol' moving truck (that we thankfully got to borrow from Chris's grandmother), and were en route to Georgia. At that moment, I couldn't believe that I was moving yet again.
Internally, my brain was wandering a mile a minute as I drove 55 mph down the Interstate. 4 times in one year I said to myself. 4 times! From New Hampshire to Chattanooga. From Chattanooga to East Ridge. From East Ridge to Tiftonia/Lookout Valley. From Tiftonia/Lookout Valley to Rossville, Georgia. Silently, I wondered if my journey was over; if Georgia was my final destination, my official place to call home. Through tired eyes, I watched as the moving truck slowly followed behind in the rear view mirror. Metaphorically, the act of gazing in the rear-view, has been much of my life; continually moving forward yet taking the time to look back. At what? Perhaps, at once was or what I left behind. But nevertheless, I kept moving and pressed the gas pedal a little harder. (But not too fast, I didn't want to lose my moving truck).
As I pulled into the driveway with Chris, I realized that we were home, regardless if the hallway was still heavily decorated with paint cans and splatters of primer that we neglected to clean up. I smiled to myself as we closed the doors of the car, and opened the truck revealing all of our belongings. Although I was happy, I cursed at the work we still had to do...like unpack...paint...sand...clean...
But I knew that there was only so much we could do before our bodies said: "NO MORE. I QUIT" which they undoubtedly did at 6pm Saturday evening upon hot showers and food in the belly. Always the one to prioritize, Chris set up the TV within an hour of moving in, so we CRASHED on the couch and watched movies the rest of the night beer and wine in hand.
Ah, the simple things in life...the other shit can wait...
And to finish this post off:
Or two cats, one magically becomes Houdini and escapes leaving the other pawing at the holes in the box confused; dumbfounded.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Bitch Fit
Yesterday I posted a picture on Facebook that stated: "I do not have the time for the nervous breakdown I deserve." Of course I chuckled to myself and immediately thought of the irony of that statement. For the past month I have been running solely on Rockstar energy drinks and little to no sleep. Of course, this combination combined with the project of remodeling a home is testing my ability to keep calm and not flip the "F" out.
BUT last night, I hate to admit, I had my moment. I nearly lost it as I tried to put a pan that was CLEARLY too large for the top level of the dishwasher. Ladies, allow me to interrupt for a moment, to ask you this: Why is it always the LITTLEST thing that makes you BITCH and crash to the floor in tears? Because it truly is! As I struggled to get the damn pan in the dishwasher, I threw my hands up in the air and stated "I can feel it coming. I'm going to be a bitch in about two seconds. I can feel it. I am GOING TO BE A BITCH." Defeated, I walked out of the kitchen and took out the trash. Bless his heart, Chris said nothing, but Dru peered around the corner wide-eyed wondering what the hell just happened. I lost it, I had my moment. I then informed them if I didn't go to bed soon, I'd lose even more of my mother f'in marbles.
Part of the problem is this: I am weak and my immune system continually gives me the middle finger. AND we not only have the project of remodeling the new home, we have the project of moving out of the old apartment before Sunday of this week. What we had originally planned is no longer relevant. We have to be out and we need to move into the new house this weekend WITH the dust and the projects that await our enthusiastic hands....
I have a feeling, come November, I going to go hibernate. Like a bear. Wake me up when spring has sprung.
For those of you who have missed the pic in all its glory, here it is....
BUT last night, I hate to admit, I had my moment. I nearly lost it as I tried to put a pan that was CLEARLY too large for the top level of the dishwasher. Ladies, allow me to interrupt for a moment, to ask you this: Why is it always the LITTLEST thing that makes you BITCH and crash to the floor in tears? Because it truly is! As I struggled to get the damn pan in the dishwasher, I threw my hands up in the air and stated "I can feel it coming. I'm going to be a bitch in about two seconds. I can feel it. I am GOING TO BE A BITCH." Defeated, I walked out of the kitchen and took out the trash. Bless his heart, Chris said nothing, but Dru peered around the corner wide-eyed wondering what the hell just happened. I lost it, I had my moment. I then informed them if I didn't go to bed soon, I'd lose even more of my mother f'in marbles.
Part of the problem is this: I am weak and my immune system continually gives me the middle finger. AND we not only have the project of remodeling the new home, we have the project of moving out of the old apartment before Sunday of this week. What we had originally planned is no longer relevant. We have to be out and we need to move into the new house this weekend WITH the dust and the projects that await our enthusiastic hands....
I have a feeling, come November, I going to go hibernate. Like a bear. Wake me up when spring has sprung.
For those of you who have missed the pic in all its glory, here it is....
Monday, October 10, 2011
Debit or Credit?
In the past 3 days my debit card has had more action than Hugh Hefner at the Playboy mansion. Remodeling, I am discovering is quite the little expensive project! Is it worth every penny? Absolutely, but can't Home Depot have a sale for "Broke-ass-twenty-something-year olds-with-no-clue-what-they-are-doing"? Maybe throw in a discount for being cute? Just an idea Home Depot...just an idea. In fact Home Depot, you may be able to reach a whole new demographic when you have said sales....
Amongst the list of what we purchased?
Paint: in Bittersweet Chocolate, Red Delicious, Seal Gray, Macchiato, and Basketry (I don't know about y'all but maybe we were hungry when we were choosing the colors of our house. 3 of the 5 are names of food and or drink. Pretty, never the less.)
Paint pans, liners, roll-y thingy-s, and paint brushes: All completely useful entities. The painting part however, not so much fun.
Primer: Or in other words, good luck getting that shit off your clothes. Maybe there is a reason why it goes on the walls before you paint...because it's not coming off. And for 65.00 a bucket, it probably shouldn't...
16 packages of hinges: Of course, the wrong 16 packs of hinges that we will have to return because we thought we were smart and could attach the cabinets from the inside. Thank god for PeterVella Adult Kool-Aid in the flavor of Sangria considering each hinge was about $3.50...
Cabinet Handles: Word to the wise, purchase in bulk, we saved a whopping $7.00, which undoubtedly will go towards the "Wine Fund".
Lot's O Stone: For $23.00 we will be building our very own fire pit in the yard when the cool weather ensues.
Mums: I had a chick moment. Although the house is a disaster in the inside, I felt the overpowering need to make it look pretty on the outside. For $9.98 a piece, I bought two, HUGE hanging mum plants that make me smile. Even if my joints, body, etc, aches...
Carpet: Great find at an even better price. $29.99 at Southeastern Salvage. These kind of stores are amazing for the new home owner....Home Depot again, take note.
Lights: for Kitchen and Hallway: Lowes 21.99. A REALLY good find.
ETC. Miscellaneous: Food, drink, wine, toilet paper, hand soap, air fresheners, and Energy Drinks...
TOTAL: too much to count, but we are starting too see a vision of a home...which I guess I could say is "priceless." And no Visa/MasterCard, I am not stealing your slogan...unless you want to sponsor such endeavor of remodeling...
Amongst the list of what we purchased?
Paint: in Bittersweet Chocolate, Red Delicious, Seal Gray, Macchiato, and Basketry (I don't know about y'all but maybe we were hungry when we were choosing the colors of our house. 3 of the 5 are names of food and or drink. Pretty, never the less.)
Paint pans, liners, roll-y thingy-s, and paint brushes: All completely useful entities. The painting part however, not so much fun.
Primer: Or in other words, good luck getting that shit off your clothes. Maybe there is a reason why it goes on the walls before you paint...because it's not coming off. And for 65.00 a bucket, it probably shouldn't...
16 packages of hinges: Of course, the wrong 16 packs of hinges that we will have to return because we thought we were smart and could attach the cabinets from the inside. Thank god for PeterVella Adult Kool-Aid in the flavor of Sangria considering each hinge was about $3.50...
Cabinet Handles: Word to the wise, purchase in bulk, we saved a whopping $7.00, which undoubtedly will go towards the "Wine Fund".
Lot's O Stone: For $23.00 we will be building our very own fire pit in the yard when the cool weather ensues.
Mums: I had a chick moment. Although the house is a disaster in the inside, I felt the overpowering need to make it look pretty on the outside. For $9.98 a piece, I bought two, HUGE hanging mum plants that make me smile. Even if my joints, body, etc, aches...
Carpet: Great find at an even better price. $29.99 at Southeastern Salvage. These kind of stores are amazing for the new home owner....Home Depot again, take note.
Lights: for Kitchen and Hallway: Lowes 21.99. A REALLY good find.
ETC. Miscellaneous: Food, drink, wine, toilet paper, hand soap, air fresheners, and Energy Drinks...
TOTAL: too much to count, but we are starting too see a vision of a home...which I guess I could say is "priceless." And no Visa/MasterCard, I am not stealing your slogan...unless you want to sponsor such endeavor of remodeling...
 |
| {accepted where ever you are: google} |
Thursday, October 6, 2011
There's a Roach In My Makeup Bag
Yes, I repeat, there's a roach in my makeup bag.
But before I tell you how that vulgar creature became buddies with my bronzer, I must inform you that I have acquired a project. Now, I must admit this project by no means is your typical arts and craft session. This is a monumental project that will and HAS required a thick skin, lots of Redbull and frequent trips to the Liquor store for adult beverages. And judging by the last few days, I think a combination of the two liquids may produce much faster and happier results.
Yes, Chris and I have acquired a home.
Although, at it's present state it's more likely to be confused with a Fraternity house in the middle-of-nowhere, Keene, New Hampshire, it is indeed OUR home and has GREAT potential. It just needs a little work..well...a lot of work. But it's ok because we have a house; a house that we will someday call home. And because I love to write, I would like to share this journey of remodeling 731 James with y'all.
Why?
Because, in the past few days I have felt like a bi-polar WRECK of a woman and I have acquired a great deal of wisdom along the way. Along with very little sleep...But that's besides the point. And I urge you to read the following with DISCRETION for a majority, if not all of it, is TRUE.
Tips for the Wise #1: Do not forget about present living conditions while rebuilding new living conditions.
After a long night of clean up, a shower is a necessity. And I repeat, a necessity. Let's just say, that the current state of the new home is less than desirable. In fact, the past owners lived in conditions where roaches were not only their roommates, but the kind of roommates that eat your food when you are not home, and burrow in your trash. SO, I am sure you can imagine the REST of the house and why a shower in bleach would be needed. BUT, when you forget to pay the water bill at the current abode to which you reside, well, you live with the fact that you are going to be marinating in bug juice for the night.
Frustration I admit, wasn't far off the map as I took off my clothes marched my happy ass to the washer and turned on the water to no avail...(This is why Liquor Stores may or may not have my bottles waiting for me as I enter the store and hear that oh-so-lovely DING I'M ABOUT TO GET YOU DRUNK DING that sings from the door upon opening.)
So this is where the roach in my makeup bag part of the story comes in. Sadly and (angrily) I look at him, "Chris what are we going to do about showers in the morning." Silence from him, heavy sighs from me ensue. "I guess we can go to the new house." he mutters somewhat defeated. Although I realize that this is a reasonable solution that I too, had thought of as I heated up our leftover lasagna, I cringed. The roaches...the dirt...the ewww. But, remodeling a home is indeed a journey and I realized I needed to roll with the punches. However gross they may be.
So upon that annoying ring of the alarm, we awoke and packed up to go shower before work. I, of course, was a bitter bitch and again reminded Chris that I counted on him to pay the utilities. Bless his heart, he said nothing and apologized. Stubboringly, I got into the shower (with flip-flops) and instantly started to unwind. I swear by everything HOLY, that a shower can heal the ills of the world. But as I got out of the 70's green tub, and started getting ready for work, a few roaches began creeping around my stuff and my makeup bag, which I thought was rather rude. "THIS IS OUR HOME NOW, SIR", I thought as I squished him with a paper towel and flushed him down the toilet (curling iron in hand).
Moral of story: Pay your utilities or you will have unexpected guest rummaging through your shit.
Tips for the Wise #2: If you need to punish someone, make them strip wallpaper.
Oh the agony of stripping wallpaper. Such a bittersweet-hate-your-life-kinda job. Sometimes you get a piece that comes off like butter and other times you get a piece you scrap for hours. The big pieces, let me tell you, almost like sex...simply amazing. The small pieces that refuse to come off the 70's wood paneling? Well they present themselves like a fricken ingrown hair that REFUSES to emerge.
Moral of the story: There are means to torture without inflicting actual pain.
So there...my two tips for the day...
As our journey continues, please feel free to visit this page from time to time. This is a blog where I will not hold back, probably swear a few times, and laugh through the tears. But I know, it will be worth it. The hard stuff always is...
BUT IN THE MEAN TIME:
But before I tell you how that vulgar creature became buddies with my bronzer, I must inform you that I have acquired a project. Now, I must admit this project by no means is your typical arts and craft session. This is a monumental project that will and HAS required a thick skin, lots of Redbull and frequent trips to the Liquor store for adult beverages. And judging by the last few days, I think a combination of the two liquids may produce much faster and happier results.
Yes, Chris and I have acquired a home.
Although, at it's present state it's more likely to be confused with a Fraternity house in the middle-of-nowhere, Keene, New Hampshire, it is indeed OUR home and has GREAT potential. It just needs a little work..well...a lot of work. But it's ok because we have a house; a house that we will someday call home. And because I love to write, I would like to share this journey of remodeling 731 James with y'all.
Why?
Because, in the past few days I have felt like a bi-polar WRECK of a woman and I have acquired a great deal of wisdom along the way. Along with very little sleep...But that's besides the point. And I urge you to read the following with DISCRETION for a majority, if not all of it, is TRUE.
Tips for the Wise #1: Do not forget about present living conditions while rebuilding new living conditions.
After a long night of clean up, a shower is a necessity. And I repeat, a necessity. Let's just say, that the current state of the new home is less than desirable. In fact, the past owners lived in conditions where roaches were not only their roommates, but the kind of roommates that eat your food when you are not home, and burrow in your trash. SO, I am sure you can imagine the REST of the house and why a shower in bleach would be needed. BUT, when you forget to pay the water bill at the current abode to which you reside, well, you live with the fact that you are going to be marinating in bug juice for the night.
Frustration I admit, wasn't far off the map as I took off my clothes marched my happy ass to the washer and turned on the water to no avail...(This is why Liquor Stores may or may not have my bottles waiting for me as I enter the store and hear that oh-so-lovely DING I'M ABOUT TO GET YOU DRUNK DING that sings from the door upon opening.)
So this is where the roach in my makeup bag part of the story comes in. Sadly and (angrily) I look at him, "Chris what are we going to do about showers in the morning." Silence from him, heavy sighs from me ensue. "I guess we can go to the new house." he mutters somewhat defeated. Although I realize that this is a reasonable solution that I too, had thought of as I heated up our leftover lasagna, I cringed. The roaches...the dirt...the ewww. But, remodeling a home is indeed a journey and I realized I needed to roll with the punches. However gross they may be.
So upon that annoying ring of the alarm, we awoke and packed up to go shower before work. I, of course, was a bitter bitch and again reminded Chris that I counted on him to pay the utilities. Bless his heart, he said nothing and apologized. Stubboringly, I got into the shower (with flip-flops) and instantly started to unwind. I swear by everything HOLY, that a shower can heal the ills of the world. But as I got out of the 70's green tub, and started getting ready for work, a few roaches began creeping around my stuff and my makeup bag, which I thought was rather rude. "THIS IS OUR HOME NOW, SIR", I thought as I squished him with a paper towel and flushed him down the toilet (curling iron in hand).
Moral of story: Pay your utilities or you will have unexpected guest rummaging through your shit.
Tips for the Wise #2: If you need to punish someone, make them strip wallpaper.
Oh the agony of stripping wallpaper. Such a bittersweet-hate-your-life-kinda job. Sometimes you get a piece that comes off like butter and other times you get a piece you scrap for hours. The big pieces, let me tell you, almost like sex...simply amazing. The small pieces that refuse to come off the 70's wood paneling? Well they present themselves like a fricken ingrown hair that REFUSES to emerge.
Moral of the story: There are means to torture without inflicting actual pain.
So there...my two tips for the day...
As our journey continues, please feel free to visit this page from time to time. This is a blog where I will not hold back, probably swear a few times, and laugh through the tears. But I know, it will be worth it. The hard stuff always is...
BUT IN THE MEAN TIME:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
