one link at a time

two for one

2011-04-04T07:18:00.005-05:00

Just a funny story for a Monday:

The first Monday of each month is Gal Night. I meet up with whoever can come of eight friends and we eat, drink, and gossip.

Last Gal Night, the waitress came to take our drink orders.

"Any specials?" one gal asked.

The waitress ran through which drinks were "two for one". The gals said ok, then proceeded to order. Daiquiris, margaritas, etc. I ordered mine and joked quietly to the others that I'd have to get two.

We proceeded to gossip.

A short time later, the waitress returned with our drinks and another table's drinks. Then, she proceeded to place two of each drink at our respective seats. Two of each drink. All those drinks were for us.

Seriously. You'd think we were being home-video filmed and somebody just surprised us with a trip to Disney World.

I bet that waitress deliberately misleads patrons just to see their reactions.

A good time nonetheless!

a sign

2011-04-03T17:42:00.004-05:00

I believe I've mentioned the antique dealer who holds his storage/inventory in my alley.

The other day, I came home to find another sale. (Is garage sale the appropriate term? Alley sale?)

Out front, an 8-foot gold Buddha.

And man, I needed that Buddha. But how would I get it through the door? It had the girth of our kitchen table!

So I fought the urge and ignored the Buddha. But I did tell the husband all about it later that night. I mean, how often does an 8-foot gold Buddha make an appearance in your alley? Surely it was a sign, even for us non-sign-believing Lutherans.

The husband, sadly, seemed unimpressed by my tales of the arrival (and later disappearance) of the Buddha.

But the next day, as I busied myself around the house, the husband came running inside:

"You'll never guess what the neighbors have out in the alley!!!!"

Me: "An 8-foot gold Buddha?"

Him: "How'd you guess that?"

I seriously love that man.

the truth

2011-04-03T16:57:00.006-05:00

We all know it: lately, the blog entries have been pretty sparse. You're all (all 3 of you) probably wondering if I have blogger's block. Or if I'm phasing out. Are blogs going out of style, we wonder?

Well, here it is. The truth:

A friend made a New Year resolution to read a certain number of books. (Hello, Friend!) I read the number and thought, how many books do I read each year? Perhaps I should keep track.

Well, as you all may know, things are never that simple with me. (Moe once told me she couldn't buy me a breathalyzer because I'm too competitive.) It quickly became an unspoken, unacknowledged, how many books can I read in a year?

It's April 3. I'm one-third through book #9.

Now mind you, I have a full time job. I have a husband, a lil' sis, and a fairly crowded calendar. And these aren't short books.

But today, as I take this quick break from my Kindle, I'm ending the race I've declared with myself. Enough is enough. Nine books in three-ish months is enough.

From now on, I will read only as time allows. Not at stop lights. Not during pre-service. And not when my time and attention are needed elsewhere. I'll still read, but this will not be 2011: The Year I Read All Those Books

Thanks, Friend for the motivation and good reading, but you're on your own for the resolutions!

I'd like to explain this further, but I'm at a really good part of Book #9!

so...

2011-03-14T07:19:00.000-05:00

So... exhausted...

I'm not sure who agreed to this daylight savings time change, but it certainly wasn't me. When I woke up this morning to pouring rain and pitch black darkness, my bed was just too cozy to leave.

A couple pics from the weekend:

The husband was installed on Friday as a called teacher through the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod. I snapped this picture following the ceremony his high school held during chapel:

PCLC performed in the acoustically-blessed chapel at the Concordia Seminary in St. Louis. Also of note, I survived my two performances out of retirement as part of PCLC's Lenten Vespers service. After yesterday's concert, I rated myself with a solid "Good Enough".

And now, it's back to work and back to cloudy skies, but unfortunately, not back to bed.

feelin' blue

2011-03-01T21:27:00.004-06:00

A couple Saturdays ago, there was a yard sale in my alley. There's a 3-car garage that I know (thanks to a few connections) is rented out separately from the house on the same lot. From that garage came the yard sale.

And of course I had to check it out. Nobody in my 27 years has ever made shopping so convenient.

Across the alley, I learned that the renters of the garage are owners of an antique store. An antique store that had been a victim of the economy. An antique store that was closing its doors.

So after a little snooping, I picked out a chair. I'm new at yard sales, but I paid $5 for it, and I've been told that was a good price.

I used pre-owned sand paper and called the project my workout for the day. Then, I spent about $4 on some spray paint. I also learned a valuable lesson on why spray painting in flipflops isn't recommended.

Now, I have a spray painted yard sale chair in my house:

But I'm still not convinced. Is this project finished? Is this project a bust? Should it be shinier? (This photo was taken without flash so you'd see color and not just shine...)

Was it worth $9 to try? Absolutely! We'll see what the next step is for this rescue chair.

quasi

2011-02-06T19:49:00.003-06:00

Today the husband and I attended a wonderful concert. St. Louis Symphony Orchestra in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. Mendelssohn, Copland, and Beethoven. Awesome.

But the attending of the concert (or the fact that we got our tickets for free from my boss) is hardly noteworthy.

What I do find interesting, is the evolution of my thought process as I attend events and as the space grows between me now and me then.

Me then, of course, is me as a music performance major. Me eating, sleeping and breathing music too many (all) hours a day. Me now is... me. Wife of musician, secretary, big sister, (little sister,) and devoted reader of celebrity gossip.

See, music and I, we didn't end on very good terms. And although I know we'll never be back to the relationship we once had, I'm finding it very interesting the new quasi-relationship we're slowly developing as we distance ourselves from what we once were.

I like to think of it as: music--as an outsider.

Not such a bad place to be, even when you know what's going on in my head. Or, at least, I'm getting there. We're getting there.

You know, music and me.

Especially when Mendelssohn, Copland and Beethoven are involved.

snow/sick

2011-01-20T10:14:00.003-06:00

Well, it certainly appears I've been neglecting my career as a freelance volunteer blog writer. What can I say? I have a Kindle now and have been very busy reading as many e-books as I possibly can.

Kindles, it turns out, are especially wonderful when one is stuck at home for a sick/snow day. (That's my situation right now, actually!)

My new biggest fear, however, is going bankrupt on the abundant purchasing of e-books due to the ease with which I can purchase them, and the speed with which I finish them.

Next e-book? A book about living the simple life and spending less money. (This is not one of the many free e-books. I read the first chapter for free and decided it's worth the money.)

Will buying a book about saving money help or hurt? Do the free books seem less appealing because they are free or are they free because they are less appealing?

And finally, has this morning's cold medicine made me a little loopy and nonsensical? I fear that one, at least, may be true.

organizational bliss

2011-01-03T19:16:00.003-06:00

I like to be organized. So sue me.

(Actually, as many people in the world still need to learn, you can't just sue any person for anything you want. There are laws that dictate what you can and cannot sue for. Please consult said laws before calling my law firm.)

But anyway, like I said, I like to be organized. It makes me happy.

And this year, I was fortunate enough to get a filing cabinet for Christmas. Last year, I got a label maker. (...Heaven!...)

Saturday morning, I fine-tuned my files into organizational bliss. And my whole life is running more smoothly just from the knowledge of the state of my filing cabinet.

I. Love. Being. Organized.

Sue me. (Ha! Try it and see how far you get!)

1/1/11

2011-01-01T13:17:00.003-06:00

Well, here we are. New Years Day. The first day of the rest of our lives, and whatever other appropriate cliches you'd like to insert here.

Last year, I resolved to play more tennis, drive more stick shift, become a better photographer, and volunteer my time. In the end, I decided that learning Italian would be more enjoyable than photography, so I began that endeavor. Also, last summer, I was matched with my Little through the Big Brother Big Sister program and I've been seeing her weekly ever since.

The tennis and the stick shift? Nope.

Regardless, it's been a good year. I revisited running, made friends with yoga, and cooked so much I started my kitchen on fire. I also found the balls (somewhere) to quit a job that was comfortable but not fulfilling for a job and boss I was terrified of at the time. Turns out it was one of the best choices I've ever made.

So this year, I feel like I'm starting out in pretty good shape. (And not just physically.) This year, I'm taking things to a new level:

In 2011 I resolve to worry less about things that don't matter and change things that do. In 2011, I'm going to spend more time with my family (sorry, Moe, Poe & Bro). In 2011, I'm going to release the negativity I have toward things that don't matter, and I'm going to set it free. (Stupid neighbor, I'm sorry but I'm no longer wasting my energy on your lifestyle.) In 2011, I am going to look at things in a new way, and assess perspective before action.

Do I have the power to make these changes and will my life change because of them? Who knows. But it's certainly worth a try.

This day is meant for lofty dreams, right? We'll see what happens.

Happy New Year!
p-c

and to all a good night

2010-12-26T19:54:00.003-06:00

Every year at this time I write a little blog entry about how much I hate Christmas. This year, about the time I started wishing for death, I decided that talking about my holiday hatred only makes people think they understand.

They don't.

But today, being December 26th and all, I'm going to keep my mouth shut. I'm just going to be happy I survived, and happy I'm rounding the Christmas corner down a few pounds from my incessant stressing.

A few funny things have happened since I last posted and bought that parsley...

I managed to set the kitchen on fire (again) but escaped any real permanent damage. More than anything, I got a funny little story about my kitchen inabilities and an excuse to eat out. Ask me about it if you need the details.

I was delivered the world's heaviest Christmas gift from my boss, which turned out to be three pieces of beautiful blue cast iron cookware... just days after setting my kitchen on fire.

And finally, after a tone-deaf night of caroling to sweet old people from our congregation, I was forced to play Christmas music (of all things) at our church Christmas morning, sleep deprived and sight reading.

I said funny above. Maybe I meant ironic.

Whatever the case, they all seem a little funnier now that Christmas has come and gone. Back to normal life, with the addition of a sparkly new Kindle and a subscription to weekly celebrity gossip.

And now I can say it with sincerity:

Merry Christmas!

hope

2010-12-13T20:33:00.004-06:00

I just bought fresh parsley. From an area of the grocery store I had never before entered.

Moe, there may be hope for me after all.

karma

2010-12-13T20:17:00.003-06:00

Well, guys, it seems the karma gods have finally come to get me.

I judged the homeless. I called out the shelter. And even though I "willingly donated", I made fun of the guy who goes through my recycling bin every Monday.

And now? I have a homeless guy living in my backyard.

Well, not technically my backyard... thanks to the privacy fence. He was actually living on the neighbors' back porch (a screened in porch that they wrapped in flimsy plastic) until the temps dropped, and stayed, below freezing. Now, he sleeps in a car in the neighbors' backyard.

Ugg!! I try to console myself with images of meth cooking on a stove and whatever else may cause my neighbors to allow him, but not inside.

So the husband and I, being the... Christians... that we are, are searching for a solution. And basically, we're not finding any. You can be an idiot on private property, apparently, and it's your choice.

We also know that they are police-proof, thanks to their scanner and an old car that starts most of the time.

Um, solution anybody? So far my best solution has been lowering my standards for our next house, and that hasn't even been successful yet.

What can I say? Christmas just feels different this year with a homeless guy keeping track of my schedule and shopping bags.

ugg

2010-12-11T22:00:00.003-06:00

The presents? Bought and wrapped.

The tree? Delivered and decorated. (Note to self: must thank brother-in-law for delivery of same.)

The holiday? Just two more weeks to endure.

Just a little baking, caroling (in German, no less), and smiling, and I'll be home free!

Here comes New Years!!!

risen, indeed!

2010-12-06T21:45:00.002-06:00

After six days and several dollars, my computer and I are back to life!!!!

Unfortunately, even the Christmas card address spreadsheet has been recovered.

Woo-hoo!!!

r.i.p.

2010-12-01T20:36:00.003-06:00

Well, guys, I'm sitting here tonight (here, being upstairs in the husband's man-den) mourning the loss of a dear friend: my hard drive.

It was an unexpected loss, and it happened quite suddenly right before my eyes. Honestly, I think I'm still in shock. I didn't even get to say goodbye...

At this point, it is still undetermined whether my data will be a casualty of the accident.

My data. My life.

For the last 30 hours, I've been panicking. O. M. G. Seriously. What am I going to do without my files??? And why the hell didn't I start backing up after the last time this happened!

But tonight I hit a point where data started feeling like baggage. Do I really need two computers' worth of photos when I've got everything developed up through last summer? Must I hang on to those papers I wrote in college or... well... whatever else must be on there that I don't even know I've lost?

And then, I saw the freedom. A fresh start. And a reason to be happy. A sign from God, if you will: The loss of my address spreadsheet is to tell me that I need not send another Christmas card after this year.

I'll just take all the money I would have spent on stamps and put it toward my bill at the computer emergency room.

um, hello?

2010-11-20T22:30:00.003-06:00

Reluctantly, I went with the husband tonight to his kids' All-District Band concert.

(I try to be a good wife, but after two concerts last weekend, I wasn't overly excited.)

But I went, we found an uncomfortable seat on the crowded bleachers, and the husband went to round up his students for a group photo. I only kind of paid attention as he took a few photos of his kids.

Then, he came back to our seat:

"I have no idea who that fourth kid was but she kept joining in on all the photos," he told me.

Seriously? That's hilarious!!!

Who the heck is that girl?

Best part of the concert!

lawn decor

2010-11-14T17:57:00.006-06:00

Dear City:

At 4am on October 9, a bunch of college kids drunk drove into the streetlight pole situated in my front yard.

After approximately two days at a 45 degree angle, you removed said pole and placed an orange plastic cone and a city barricade over the hole.

Today, November 15, the cone and barricade remain.

And although I'd hate for you to forget that's where you need to put your replacement pole when you get around to it, I'd really appreciate it if you would take your cone and barricade out of my yard. They just don't go with my lawn decorating scheme.

They also, most likely, will fail to stop any vehicles hurling toward my house.

If you will kindly send me an address, I would be glad to deliver them to their storage location. Otherwise, you will soon likely find them in our city-issued garbage can, and ultimately, in the city dump.

Thank you,
p-c

the good kid

2010-11-14T17:31:00.003-06:00

This may come as a shock to some of you, but I've always been kind of a rule follower. I've spent the last 27 years coloring in the lines, doing what I'm told, and generally pretending to enjoy it.

(Side note: Maybe I really was enjoying it. I've been told I'm so even-tempered because I was born on an equinox. Translation: I'm a total pushover.)

But anyway, although my big brother is ultimately smarter, funnier, and more successful than me, I was always The Good Kid.

What a curse, right?

The few times in my memory that I actually stopped and had a little fun, I got caught. And I still carry around that guilt to this day. I did something bad and I got in trouble for it. (I once put on a friend's tuba at a band contest and started playing it in our free time. HOW DARE I???)

Maybe it's because I'm old now and I'm seeing the true ways of the world. Maybe it's because I haven't been as diligent with my Bible studies and prayers. But lately, I've had a lot of resentment at the rules and the people who break them.

Why do they get to have more fun?

So I think I'm going to take a break from the rules. Maybe I'll sleep in one Sunday morning and spend my offering at the mall. Maybe I won't go to work early and I'll take a full hour for my lunch. Maybe I'll (uh oh, brace yourself) start saying what I really think. (And you thought I already was!!!)

Can I overcome my self-inflicted guilt? Can I *gasp* relax and have fun?

I do believe this may be worth the effort. And although I'm already scheduled to skip church Sunday to help prepare our church brunch to raise funds for whatever worthy cause, I may also find some other way to break some rule.

And maybe, just maybe, you'll feel bad because it will be a rule you followed.

ugg

2010-11-11T12:17:00.000-06:00

Ugg.

I'm tired of American society.

Tired of "stress". Tired of "busy".

And I'm beginning to wonder what the cost is of that buck I just earned.

Do I need a vacation? A relocation? A change of major?

For today, I'd like a late lunch with vino in Italy, followed by a siesta in Spain.

Is that really too much to ask?

november

2010-11-10T21:10:00.004-06:00

Well, it's November. And it's getting dark outside at dreadfully early hours.

So (despite the 75-degree weather), it's time to bundle up and bunker down. Time to get cozy and settle in. Time to start sipping the reds.

And now, in this, the mildest of autumns, let's all begin to ponder some of life's greatest mysteries.

Namely:

How can we tell the difference between somebody who is complaining and searching for answers and somebody who is complaining and searching for only a listener?

How do I keep my earbuds from falling from my head mid-run?

Is meditating really just a bunch of bullshit and does anybody really do it?

What is the perfect Christmas gift for my father? Or father-in-law? Or mother-in-law? Etc.

And finally, the true issue on my mind: If I wish for it hard enough, will my closet grow?

Mind over matter,

p-c

good

2010-10-26T21:44:00.003-05:00

I have more than just a few reasons to say it today: Life Is Good.

1. I've been on a running kick lately. It always starts out with me feeling sorry for my running shoes, as they take the brunt of my frustration. Then, it ends with me feeling really good about myself. I guess I hit that point today.

2. I've been working with a lovely lady on one of my investments and it's going so smoothly, I'm about to sign over my (our) whole portfolio. I love it when people are good at their jobs!!!

3. I ate supper with my husband today. As I explained to him, it was important and we both had to eat anyway. I might also see him next Sunday.

4. My boss returns from Europe tomorrow. And although it seemed like a sad prospect, I'm excited to get back to a crazy life!

5. The trampoline delivered to my front yard by last night's wind storm was promptly removed by its owners. Maybe they're not so ghetto after all.

For those, and a few other reasons tonight, I'm thanking Him and smiling.

:)

blog de jour

2010-10-19T19:23:00.004-05:00

Because some people are more eloquent with words than I am, and because I found this blog today that I really like...

I need to inform you that The Simple Dollar is my favorite blog for the day. In it, I found this:

Trent's 14 Money Rules

1. Spend Less Than You Earn.
2. Don't Over-Think Your Investments.
3. Stop Wasting Time.
4. Eliminate (and Avoid) High-Interest Debt.
5. Talk About Money (And Be Honest).
6. Stop Trying to Impress Other People.
7. Watch Your Progress (But Make It Fun).
8. Take Care of Your Things.
9. Do It Yourself.
10. Plan Ahead Every Time You Spend.
11. Find and Work Toward Your True Passions.
12. Build Real Friendships and Relationships.
13. Improve Yourself Every Chance You Get.
14. Give Without Strings or Regrets.

And although I liked the entries for Rule #3: Stop Wasting Time and Rule #13: Improve Yourself Every Chance You Get, I also found a lot of other helpful hints and affirmations of what I already knew and believed.

So, from now on, when I start cursing my parents for my over-achieving workaholic genes, I'll just take a look at my ghetto neighbors and remember the alternative. Or, as Trent says it:

Throughout my life, I’ve found that there are two kinds of people. One group seems to be constantly bored, idling away their days and waiting for life to come to them. The other group does the opposite – they’re constantly busy, feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day, and are out there chasing life. ...
Here’s the real message: the difference between the successful and the non-successful appears in how they “waste” their time. People who succeed spend almost all of their time doing something that in some way improves themselves, their relationships, or their career situation. That’s not accomplished by idling.

efficiently wasting

2010-10-19T17:35:00.001-05:00

I’m sitting here tonight wasting time by thinking about ways to more effectively manage my time. Is that productive?

By the way, what’s with this overwhelming need I have to be productive at all times, and the guilt I feel otherwise?

After a crack-of-dawn 5k Saturday morning (which I did as a good deed, in more ways than one), I was exhausted. I got home to find the husband enjoying the sunshine on the deck. I sat down with him and contemplated my choices: nap or chores.

And the husband said something strange: “You don’t always have to be accomplishing something.”

Wait. What? I don’t? Now there’s a revelation that’s not in the New Testament.

So I’ve been thinking. What can I cut out of my life that is nothing but a time zap?

I could cut out my trashy gossip magazines, but I really enjoy those. Those, I believe, are my stress relief and my entertainment. (And they’re free too, which has nothing to do with time but is still important.)

I could cut out cleaning, but in the end that's something I need to do. I have to maintain a respectable home for visitors and for the Big Brothers Big Sisters organization (so I don’t get my lil’ sis taken away). And although I hate cleaning, I do enjoy a clean house.

So the question becomes: What do I spend time on that I neither enjoy nor need to do?

These are the things I’m considering thus far:

~~This Blog~~

Facebook (Ahh!! I knew I loathed you, Facebook!)

~~Christmas~~

Ok, well, I’ll keep thinking. But Facebook? Watch your back.

bong!

2010-10-19T14:29:00.002-05:00

In an effort to use my time more efficiently, my newest volunteer activity will take no additional time from my schedule.

Allow me to explain.

You know those Sunday mornings during pre-service when I'm sitting in my pew (yes, my pew) behind the organ? That time is now going to be spent... dramatic pause...

Ringing the church bell!

I'm so excited! I had my practice "ring" last Sunday (after the service was over and the crowd had gone home) and I guess I passed the test because the head bell-ringer offered me his next Saturday evening service to begin my post!

That multitasking does have a nice ring to it!

stupid kids

2010-10-09T13:30:00.003-05:00

When I hear a car crash, I assume they hit the house. I guess you could say I have a preternatural fear of cars hitting my house.

At 4am this morning, though, they just slammed into the streetlight in the front yard. They all got out and danced around the car a little, then decided to pack up a few bigger car parts and drive away.

Luckily, this isn't my first experience with stupid kids having a wreck in my yard. Thanks to my call and my neighbor's call, a police chase commenced and the car made it only a few blocks before being stopped.

Stupid kids.

Now, we're waiting for the electric company to fix the pole. As for the big pile of car parts, headlights, and glass shards? I think that's for me to clean up.

Again.

The next person who has a wreck in my yard can borrow the broom but THEY are cleaning up the mess before they leave. I don't care if the ambulance has to wait.

dear homey:

2010-10-05T17:26:00.000-05:00

To the homey who dug through my recycling bin on recycle pickup day:

You scared me to death banging around in my front yard in the wee hours of the a.m., but at least you’ve got the initiative to work for a buck.

Thanks for cleaning up the mess you made and good luck to you in your aluminum endeavors!

snip-snip

2010-09-20T20:55:00.003-05:00

Mr. Sinatra is going to the vet this week to have a few body parts removed. (I'm sorry, but when it comes to claws v. furniture, I had to think of it as a financial decision.) And of course, we're giving him the ol' snip-snip.

The husband scheduled the appointment such that I would be taking Frank to the vet. And I'm nervous! I know Frank will cry, even if we've been using the cat carrier as a play pen/toy all week.

And I'm afraid I'll cry!

I wish there was a way to tell Frankie what was going on, but there's not, and that is what kills me. I may possibly be the most pathetic person to ever get her kitten neutered.

They grow up so fast!!

cat story #4,819

2010-09-20T20:43:00.003-05:00

My kitten, Frank Sinatra, has this cute habit of carrying his toys around in his mouth. I often find them deposited in his food dish.

He also has a love of crinkled up pipe-cleaners. (You know, those sticks of wire covered in fuzz used for useless crafts and bassoon bocal cleaning.)

And after a few close calls, I'm usually able to identify the furry thing poking me below the sheets when I wake up at 3 am.

So I reach down, toss his pipe cleaner on the floor, and hear the kitten fly off the bed to retrieve it.

By the time I wake up again, it's back down there with my toes, just below the covers from where he sleeps. But I still don't know how he gets them under the sheets.

Just another one of life's mysteries...

strange

2010-09-12T21:32:00.003-05:00

You know that feeling when you realize your boss's wife has her own Wikipedia entry?

Strange, huh?

And then you start to wonder who put it there...

magic

2010-09-12T21:02:00.003-05:00

Moe told me once that when she went to see musicals as a kid, to her, it was like watching magic.

She grew up with them of course, just like I did, and knew that seeing somebody who could dance, act, and sing--live on stage--was a special thing. Magic.

When I first saw instrumentalists in person, it was magic. One person having the ability to make those sounds, those melodies: magic.

Today I took a 13 year old to her first recital. Cello. She didn't see the magic. And I was disappointed.

Don't get me wrong, she was very well behaved. After a diagnosis of ADHD, no less. But it didn't strike her. She clapped at the right places, but she didn't light up.

I guess I need to keep looking to find what is magical for her. Does everybody find that magic?

just what you don't want to hear

2010-09-12T20:52:00.003-05:00

Today is September 12. And I just found myself staring at my list of Christmas present recipients. (Yes, I have an Excel spreadsheet for this. I work better when I have a checklist. Sue me. Press charges. Whatever makes you feel better.)

But anyway, September 12.

18 recipients at last count.

If it wasn't for this damn list, I might not hate Christmas. (There. I said it.)

If anybody wants to give me an early hint, I might be willing to spend extra on them...

(That's your cue!)

seriously?

2010-09-09T17:11:00.002-05:00

So...

Today my boss asked me if I would consider going through the necessary steps to get a pilot's license. He, of course, would cover the bill. Then, he'd let me fly his plane.

He told me the name of the lady who would teach me and it turned out to be not only a lady I know, but also the nicest lady I know.

My answer? Well, I didn't say no.

Is he serious? We'll see!! (But the other secretaries tell me he is!)

brown or green

2010-09-04T18:55:00.002-05:00

My husband just started a compost bin and now he keeps asking me if things are "brown" or "green".

His toenail clippings? Those are just trash, right?

When in doubt, leave it out!

hell

2010-09-01T18:44:00.002-05:00

I might have to rethink this love of old houses.

The guy in my basement who just chiseled a hole in my chimney just informed me that I've probably been breathing poisonous gas due to lack of ventilation. Possibly, for the 3+ years we've lived here.

Well, hell.

Thank God I have health insurance, right?

crap!

2010-09-01T18:12:00.003-05:00

If everybody drove at the same speed, there would be no accidents.

Ok, that's not entirely true, but it would certainly eliminate many wrecks. If we all travel at 100 mph, we could only collide with those going different directions than we are.

Alright, now, if everybody was equally competent or incompetent, I wouldn't be sitting here tonight with NO HEALTH INSURANCE.

I can't believe this. I took a new job for health insurance. I paid extra to make sure the new insurance and the old insurance overlapped. I waited until I was sure I was covered under the new insurance to cancel the old insurance.

But here's the thing:

The guy in charge of cancelling the old coverage: competent.
The gal in charge of beginning the new coverage: incompetent!

Why did I for once think that I could trust somebody to actually do their job? Am I the stupid one in this scenario for only checking once?

This better get fixed tomorrow.

turkey

2010-08-29T15:05:00.006-05:00

So as it turns out, I'm an excellent bowler when I'm sober. (I'm afraid this is a fact that most people will never witness firsthand.)

When the LS and I decided to go bowling, I gave her a playful speech about how I'm a terrible bowler, but I think it's still fun to bowl badly. I even told her that in the past, I've actually thrown (lost control of) the ball in the wrong direction. I did not, however, tell her how many times this has happened.

But with the LS, and without the aid of adult beverages, I was more like an average bowler! I even got three strikes in a row! That's called a Turkey.

And although I joked to the LS that she never told me she was secretly a professional-level bowler, we were actually pretty close to the same level of ability.

Now I could at this point mention the part I omitted from the story I told my husband: LS asked to bowl with gutter bumpers and I said ok. But in only the third strike of my turkey did my ball require the assistance of said gutter bumpers. I promise!

So while I truly believe that it was my un-impaired state that improved my bowling skills with the LS, I've also discovered that what I was missing and needing on my adult outings with friends was simple: gutter bumpers! Do they let drunk adults use those too?

team spirit

2010-08-28T10:17:00.003-05:00

The husband has been playing in a fast-pitch softball church league all summer, with games on Fridays and Sundays. And sometimes Wednesdays.

And I am not a sports person. At all. But I've been trying to go to at least some of the games for moral support and nachos.

Last night, the husband played the second game and we arrived about halfway through the first game. He left me after a bit to "warm up" (read: drink a pre-game beer with his teammates) so I headed into the bleachers to "watch the game" (read: try to stay awake and pretend I'm interested).

Now, as you may know, I always carry a book with me. However, I've always been too timid to pull it out at these games. This is eastern Perry County: known for beer consumption amounts at social gatherings. Not exactly a bookish bunch.

But last night, at the second-to-last game of the playoffs, during a game my husband was not playing in, I did it: I got out my book and started reading. Of course I was slightly hidden in the back row, on the far side of the announcer box.

Shortly after, a family from church came and sat next to me, the daughter carrying a textbook from her college class. I heard her take a little grief from some audience members who noticed the textbook, but I just said hi to them and went back to my book.

Then I pretended I couldn't hear the family's quiet conversation:

Daughter: "Carrie's reading a book."
Mom: "Is she doing homework or just reading?"
Daughter: "I think she's just reading!"

I can't blame them though. It's probably a sight never before seen at an Altenburg church league softball game.

And the husband's game? I'm pretty sure they won.

perk

2010-08-25T19:54:00.004-05:00

Today I discovered the perk of a teeny-tiny kitchen: I can literally reach from one end to the other. I can have one hand stirring the pot on the stove and one hand running water in the sink on the opposite wall.

Now that's efficient!

This is an old photo, but you still get the idea. (Just disregard the little drummer boy in the middle.)

creative us

2010-08-25T17:28:00.004-05:00

I think my new favorite spot in town is Creative Ewe Pottery. My Lil' Sis and I had a great time painting on Saturday, and our treasures were ready for pickup today!

My LS picked out this sun coin bank to paint because she's decided to start saving her coins. (So intelligent, my LS!) She added the clown touches herself. (So creative, my LS!)

Then about 20 minutes into our painting, we found the bonus moon on the back. She turned the moon into a Michael Jackson moon. (I tell ya, this LS is a genius!)

I, being the less creative, less artistically talented one, painted this very grown-up spoon rest. I tried to tell the husband it was my gift to him but I don't think he fell for it.

Creative us at Creative Ewe! We'll definitely have to do this again!

drafty?

2010-08-24T20:55:00.004-05:00

Excel spreadsheets are not my only loser hobby. I also house hunt obsessively. Every day (or three times a day) I check out our local compilation website of homes on the market to scan the new additions.

Sometimes, I see a house with enough potential to click and take a look around the inside. (In a two-dimensional sense, of course, from the comfort of my computer screen.)

Usually, I find a house way out of my price range that I click on for inspirational decorating purposes. (Or maybe I'm just nosey.)

Today, in a master bath of a mid-sized home just $100k-ish out of my price range, I spotted this:

That's right, a shower, just hanging out there in the corner. No door, no curtain.

A. Wouldn't that be cold?

and

B. Even with the door locked (and bolted) I would feel entirely too exposed to shower in that corner.

Is this a case of avant-garde decorating or have I found nudists in my vicinity? I hope they close those shades.

ca-RAY-zee!

2010-08-19T20:20:00.005-05:00

Life. Is. Crazy.

First of all, I can barely see after a day (four days, actually) too fast to keep track of my glasses. (I walk away from my desk reading what I'm carrying, get to my destination, look up, take off my glasses, put them down, walk back to my desk, and realize I don't have my glasses... millions of times a day!)

Second, my new boss is 1,000+ miles away and I'm spending so much time transferring data and receiving instructions and replying to emails that I can't get any of the actual work done! Craziness. Seriously.

Third, this house is a mess. I have decided that I'm blaming my Martha Stewart mother for my feelings of inadequacy in this category. (I'll have to talk to my therapist about this. And I'll have to find a therapist.) To normal people, this house is probably clean enough. To me and my unrealistic upbringing, it's filth! I'm having to come up with fun things to do with my Lil' Sis outside of the home because the cleaning lady is busy with her new job!

But you know what? I'm loving it! I may be lost and overwhelmed, but I think I'm surviving pretty well. And I've got fun times planned for both painting pottery and bowling badly.

Crazy, yes. But in a good way.

(And it'll get better, right?)

transition

2010-08-15T17:51:00.004-05:00

I'm currently unemployed. That is, I'm spending this weekend at an unemployed status. (Though I didn't take the time to change Facebook, that's what I'm telling people.)

Friday was my last day at my first grown-up job. And although I doubt anybody out in blog land cares to hear any more about this transition in my life, it's still a big deal to me. It also seems strange to leave a job on good terms, not because I dislike anyone or anything involved with the job, but simply because a better deal came along.

Friday was good for closure though. I laughed, I cried, and people gave me cards and gifts. Even my boss teared up a little.

But I don't think it's just a case of over-emotional Carrie, here. If you think about it, I've spent approximately 40 hours a week with this man for four years. Other than my father, brother, and husband, this is the longest I've had a man in my life, and the most time I've devoted to (almost) any one person. And professional though it may be (aside from my bad jokes and his amusing anecdotes), we have a bond that has developed over time.

But alas, life must go on. And while he's been my only real boss, I'm just one in several secretaries. I know my past boss will be fine and as for me? My future boss told me, "either you've got a lot of people fooled, or you'll be fine in this position."

Let's hope it's the latter.

And in other transition news, I was sad to find that one of my favorite bloggers has now devoted her blog (in addition to her life) to motherhood. Just another one lost to the dark side.

Rest assured, however, this blog remains steadfastly grounded in the realm of having no topic at all. (At least until I come up with one...)

tidbits

2010-08-08T20:51:00.002-05:00

After a day with a busy husband, this uncommitted wife has a clean house!

The smell in the kitchen, though? That's all him. It took me a while to track that wonderful scent, but it's the peaches. Schnucks started selling some local peaches and the husband started buying. And while I'd never eat the fuzzy things, the smell is quite alluring!

Also, I discovered mid-House Beautiful that I'm developing a love of reading recipes. Sure, I'd never eat more than chicken and cheese, but I love the poetic wording and romantic prose of these recipes.

And who freakin' knew we could roast bacon in the oven????

Those are my tidibts. Atleast for today.

mantra

2010-08-05T22:20:00.004-05:00

Legend has it that when my mom decided to have a kid (ahem, my brother) she quit her job to take care of him. Three years later, I arrived.

And after a year stuck at home with me, Moe was ready to deal with the big kids and earn money for it.

That's when grandma quit her job. To spend time with me. (That's right, Brother! Ha!)

And despite a full range of backup supplies including apple slices and grandma fun, Grandma also had a gigantic hardback version of The Little Engine that Could. Inside there were pages and pages of trainloads of toys. I always ignored the story and picked out which toys I wanted.

Or so I thought.

But with only six days left of my comfortable job before I begin my new life as the hand-picked slave for only The most intimidating attorney in town, I've been hearing a quiet chant in the back of my head:

"I think I can. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can."

And every time it comes closer to the front of my mind, I smile and remember that book, those apple slices and the teddy bear I picked out for myself one page near the middle.

I wasn't paying attention. But I'm still using the lesson I ignored more than two decades later.

(Thanks, Grammers.)

I think I can...

get rich so slowly you're still poor

2010-07-28T20:42:00.003-05:00

It's highly inappropriate, but I love talking money. (I also love numbers and spreadsheets.) I read finance books and articles, including this great article I found today and loved, and I keep a wonderfully entertaining spreadsheet of my (our) net worth. It's kind of like my hobby.

That said, this week has been crazy. Without looking for it, I was offered a job, a raise, and HEALTH INSURANCE! (I accepted the job and splurged on a new $25 hair straightener.)

And because of that (and also of course the raise that the husband locked in before signing his next academic year contract), the husband and I could potentially pay off our mortgage. Like, now. (Or another, less impressive, loan. But not both. And we'd have to eat Ramen noodles for 1-2 weeks straight.)

But here's the problem: I love compiling the numbers and watching them grow, but I despise risk and decisions. Before, we kept our cushion in case of accidental knocked-up-ness and lack of realistic health insurance. Now, what's our excuse? (Are we accumulating our next real estate down payment?)

What are our interest rates and what return are we receiving on investments? Play it safe or brag that we own our entire house? (I do love bragging...) Wait to see if I can survive this new job or make my second leap of faith before I lose momentum?

Get rich slowly or pay extra interest and put it off a few years?

If youth is wasted on the young, when can I expect my wisdom to come in?

"respite" blue

2010-07-20T21:42:00.004-05:00

There's definitely something therapeutic about a fresh coat of paint.

Or maybe I'm high from being closed up in a bathroom all evening with all those fumes.

Either way, I'm feeling pretty good right now. And the bathroom looks great!

gestalt

2010-07-17T22:28:00.003-05:00

Have I ever mentioned that I am the pickiest eater you've ever met, seen, or read the blog of? Or that I don't eat cream cheese, things of the sea, or anything slimy?

And did I ever tell you how much I love my brother?

But apparently my brother has different thoughts on concepts such as "try it" and "taste it" than I do.

I argue that a small bite provides taste, while he argues that one must experience a big bite, or an entire "roll", if you will.

I say that I tasted the raw fish but he says sushi is the experience of all ingredients combined.

I noted that my gag reflex was tested to the max and he provided that I was welcome to vomit if needed.

So although I may not have experienced the true gestalt of sushi, I did taste and swallow at least three different types of raw fish.

The squid and the caviar? I left that to him.

life goes on

2010-07-17T09:49:00.003-05:00

Hi. (It’s me.) I guess it’s been pretty obvious that I’ve either run out of things to blog about, or I’m too busy doing things to actually blog. Should I keep you in suspense as to which it is, or is that obvious too?

The truth is, it’s merely the usual of Life Going On. I work, I eat, I sleep. And although the tasks, meals, and faces change from day to day, the pattern remains constant. The details are what make life interesting but in the end, it’s all basically the same ho-hum.

I think just a few updates will bring you up to speed on the goings on here in my world:

1. Italian. If you see me out and about walking or running to the beat of my ghetto, take note of those pretty blue earbuds. They are teaching me Italian! (I am specifically learning phrases such as “Not a glass, a bottle please.” and “This is beautiful, I must buy it!”

2. NOLA. The husband left this morning to supervise some kiddies at the National Lutheran Youth Gathering in New Orleans. My goal during his absence? Paint the bathroom, of course!

3. Sushi. In a moment of weakness, I agreed to allow my brother to (force)feed me sushi. I’m heading north for a visit with him tonight. (And a quick stop at the Container Store on the way!)

4. Lil. In a major leap of courage, I agreed to be matched with a Lil’ Sis. I met her last Tuesday and commence the fun times this Monday. (Please God, help me be a benefit to this child and not a detriment!)

And really, beyond that, Life Goes On. Sushi goes through and life goes on.

free show

2010-07-05T07:43:00.003-05:00

Here's a funny perk of living in the ghetto: The husband and I will never have to spend a penny on fireworks. (Not that we ever would.)

Let me explain.

People out here tend to have slightly scewed concepts as to where they should spend their money. For instance: Furniture and household goods in shreds from years of use and misuse? Buy (rent-to-own) a new television. Car got a flat tire? Leave it sitting in the yard and go buy a new piece of junk car. Car insurance overdue? Buy a truckload of fireworks.

Last night, from the comfort of our deck, the husband and I were surrounded with massive private firework shows. I almost certainly watched dozens of paychecks (or governmental assistance checks, whichever the case may be) go up in pretty flames and smoke.

But I know I shouldn't judge someone else's priorities. So instead, I will merely thank them.

Thanks for the free show guys! Next year, I think I'll host a get-together on your fireworks budget.

boom-boom-pow,
p-c

big plans

2010-07-04T07:55:00.005-05:00

We're going to

while we're up north this week!!!

Now that's my kind of tourist attraction.

AND, we'll have a car so we can buy as much as we want without fear of the mean airport people claiming our things for their own decorating gain.

So excited!

when life gives you lemons...

2010-07-02T17:22:00.000-05:00

Today. Was. Crazy.

On top of my insane workload, slave-driving boss, and everybody trying to tie up loose ends with their attorney before a holiday weekend, I was trying to prepare for a 5-day span out of the office. (Nothing all that spectacular--the husband and I are heading to Chicago for a quickie Colloquy interview. Hopefully, the Synod will let him in as a Chosen One.)

But anyway, in the midst of the chaos at work, there's a little chaos at home, too. (I don't do well when both of my worlds are chaotic...) So on my desk at work is my to-do list for home. When I think of things, I jot them down so I don't have to remember them or worry about them.

Today, in the middle of the chaos of work, I looked down and read, "make lemonade."

And it just seemed too darn appropriate! Crappy day? Remember to make lemonade!

(And then clean the house and do the laundry...)

true story

2010-06-21T21:48:00.004-05:00

A man called my office today wanting to divorce his wife because she poured out his milk.

I didn't ask what the expiration date was but he's going to call back tomorrow and I'm going to attempt to find out.

What's the rule here? Two days before expiration and he gets the house? Two days after and he pays spousal support?

I'm anxious to find out...

daddy-o day

2010-06-20T14:42:00.004-05:00

Top 10 reasons Poe is AWESOME:

1. He seriously knows everything.

2. His faith in our Lord.

3. His past, and the way he tells his stories. (Motorcycle trip across the country; the time I asked if he had ridden the ferry and he told me he did once to “take the kids.”)

4. I will always be his little girl. And he will always be my daddy.

5. When Moe and I do something stupid (like leave the car in the front yard after trying to run over a snake) he laughs and he understands (and he puts the car back).

6. The fact that I never heard the word “no,” and when I did, I was adjusted enough to make a joke about it.

7. All those kitty cats over the years. He found the first on the farm, then declared it needed a friend, and brought the second one back in his shirt pocket on the 4-wheeler when I was too scared to hold it.

8. He taught me what to look for in a man.

9. The way he loves my mom. And pokes her.

10. The security, the stability, and the love I’ve known I could count on my whole life.

No wonder they made a day just for him!

less than productive

2010-06-14T09:26:00.002-05:00

Can you tell I'm off work today? It seems I haven't unpacked my motivation...

trip pics

2010-06-14T09:08:00.008-05:00

Trip pics:

Our view was awesome, both morning

and night.

The submarine was exciting, both outside

and in.

And turtles were common, both alive

and cooked.

And as always, more pics on Facebook.

ma'am?

2010-06-14T08:22:00.005-05:00

For some reason, I am a prime target for airport security. I can not enter or leave this country without being sent to "secondary" and I truly believe I've been patted down more than most people have flown.

The husband I have a few theories for this: I'm the Plain Jane they choose so as to not be accused of profiling; no kids, big bag; I look like an easy search; etc. But in reality, who knows? I just know that it starts to get aggravating when you've already been manhandled through ten optional (but chosen) checkpoints and you get chosen yet again. (If the last dozen people deemed me to be safe, what do you think you're going to find??)

So after a long trip home on Saturday, with the number of people who fondled my birth control somewhere in the double digits, I was relieved to make it through customs, back into security, and to my final gate just as they began to board.

The husband and I were sitting in an exit row, as often happens when you book your flight late and still want to sit with your travel mate. No biggie, and lots of leg room, but I always act especially attentive during the instructions so the other passengers feel safe :)

It was a male flight attendant who came up to our row to do the drill: "Do you read and speak English? Verbal confirmation? Are you comfortable lifting this 47 pound door?..." To which we all nodded and answered in the affirmative.

At that point the attendant looks right into my eyes and says, "Ma'am?"

And I know I look scrawny, but I really do believe I could handle throwing a 47 pound plane door into the ocean. Especially with the other two men in my row. I prepared my response: a witty, but still pleasant "Honey, you should try lifting my suitcase!"

But he continued with a very somber, "Ma'am, are you over the age of 15?"

From me, a polite "yes" and he nods and walks away.

And I burst out laughing to the point of tears! 15??? Come on!!!

Is this why I'm chosen? Because I'm 12 and traveling without my mommy??? I'm freaking 27!

Definitely the funniest moment of the trip.

home again

2010-06-12T23:00:00.002-05:00

Grand Cayman was amazing! But it feels good to be home again...

(Pictures and stories to follow. First, sleep.)

2010-05-25T20:31:00.003-05:00

Budding friendship, mutual tolerance, or fuzzy shadow?

meet Frank Sinatra

2010-05-23T14:28:00.008-05:00

wwfd?

2010-05-16T14:43:00.001-05:00

What would Forte do if we adopted this baby?

judge

2010-05-13T20:05:00.004-05:00

Alright, I'm afraid I may have been a little harsh with the whole ghetto thing. (Or maybe it was all a bad joke. It's impossible to interpret tone via blog.)

Perhaps I should clarify. (Homeless minorities have feelings too.)

I don't judge you because of your race.
I don't judge you because of your social class.
I don't judge you by your job, or lack thereof. It's no secret times are tough.
I don't judge you by your home, or lack thereof. No job can go downhill pretty fast.

I DO judge you by the way you ACT. I judge you when you throw glass at my house and when you shoot a firework at my husband and me as we legally drive our licensed motorcycle past your gathering spot. I judge you when you drunkenly try to open my windows in the middle of the night. I judge you when you disconnect our hose to grab a quick drink on the side of our house (although I do thank you for turning the water off when you finished).

I judge you because you respect no one and nothing. I judge you because you live in filth, because you abuse your children and pets, and because you drive unlicensed and uninsured vehicles. I judge you because of the underground operation going on in your home which you hide so poorly from your neighbors.

Maybe the homeless shelter in our town will help in ways I don't yet understand. Maybe all it takes to turn a homeless person into a homed person is 7-14 days of warm showers and decent bedding. Maybe this facility will help our town's homeless citizens before word travels out and more homeless travel in. And maybe these less-than-homed individuals will be respectful and hard-working and not yet another drain on limited resources and limited law enforcement.

Maybe if you don't act like ghetto, I won't judge you as such.

And just for the record, many of the ghetto examples used herein involve caucasian ghetto. (Caucasian is quite possibly a minority here.)

ghetto update

2010-05-11T18:32:00.002-05:00

It just keeps getting better over here in my little slice of Heaven:

I learned through our local newspaper today that I now live less than one mile from a homeless shelter.

Shall I call the assessor and let him know?

drive-bys and street fights,
p-c

plaintiff's exhibits

2010-05-09T18:03:00.009-05:00

And just in case you thought I was being a little overly dramatic:

Our front yards (you can guess which house is mine).

Wood, garbage, and probably snakes.

A close-up of some pretties on my front porch. (I'm hoping some of them fluff up and spread out a bit.)

My peaceful retreat (a/k/a the deck).

Just over our privacy fence (please note the broken window).

The irony in this situation is that someone told me today that this work would actually raise the value of my home. (He was under the impression that this was the mark of home improvement). Are they capable of that? Time will tell.

ghetto strikes again

2010-05-09T17:24:00.006-05:00

I grew up on a farm. A big one. My only neighbor: my grandparents. And a bunch of cows, of course.

Then I went to college and fell in love with luxuries such as cell phone service, fast internet, and pizza delivery.

So I bought a house in the middle of a big town with cell phone service, fast internet, and LOTS of pizza places to choose from.

In the ghetto.

It's because of that series of events, and many others in between, that I sit here tonight wondering...

When did these people lose respect for everything and everyone? Why don't the GOOD people ever run out the BAD people? (Because they're too busy working, paying taxes, and abiding by the law!) What possessed that kid to think it was ok to start throwing shards of glass at my deck? And when I gave him the look of torturous murder, why did he have no fear? If these "adults" didn't want to parent, why did they reproduce? If these minorities want to be treated equally, why do the behave as though they should be caged?

Is this the demise of our society, all wrapped into a cute little nutshell, playing out in my neighbor's ~~junk~~yard?

And coming to terms with my only viable solution, why don't they have cute old houses in good neighborhoods? That is, good neighborhoods until the ghetto people attack there too.

I will now end my rant and return to my hobby of picking up glass in my grass. (Turns out, window glass is much more sharp that auto glass!)

moe day

2010-05-08T19:34:00.002-05:00

Top 10 reasons Moe is AWESOME:

1. She spent years of her life with a bassoon playing in her basement (almost constantly) and never went crazy, complained, or even acted mildly annoyed.

2. She acts as though all of the stupid reasons I call her (bored, saw a bug, etc.) are acceptable reasons to interrupt her day.

3. She had a full time job and still managed a Martha-Stewart-quality home.

4. She didn’t tell me until years after the fact that as a music major, I’d call and yell at her before every big performance. (And she took the yelling, not minding in the least.)

5. She is the best person I know to get lost with. Turn here? Sure, why not.

6. She somehow knows when to let me make mistakes and when to stop me. (How do moms know that?)

7. She followed me to countless music competitions, only to stand outside the door during the performance.

8. She lets me be quirky, nervous, stupid, annoying, conceited, and everything in between.

9. She loves my dad and has for 32 years, which teaches me how to love my husband.

10. She puts up with me and our family, no matter what, and makes sure we all have tons of fun.

No wonder they made a day just for her!

my music man

2010-05-08T18:20:00.002-05:00

I’m sitting here alone, as I have for most of the week. Why? The husband’s high school musical is this weekend. Three performances, countless rehearsals. And on top of the musical, there are concerts, recitals, award banquets, graduation ceremonies (the husband teaches at multiple schools), and all kinds of other stuff.

And did I mention the husband has a 13 page paper due on Monday? And I checked: it’s not really a topic I could tackle for him.

(I miss my husband.)

I’ve spent my week buying graduation gifts for the husband to distribute, hunting down gag awards for the music banquet, and just generally trying to provide moral support (i.e. staying awake until the husband gets home and waking up in time to say goodbye in the morning).

Last night on our car ride home from a performance the husband mentioned a couple we knew, and how the husband simply follows the wife’s lead, happy to take the commands, somewhat like an obedient dog.

Am I that spouse? Am I too comfortable in my husband’s shadow? I had to bring it up.

And the husband was shocked at the thought. He only knew me as independent. (Granted, I’m a lot more stubborn in private.) Hmm… perception amazes me once again.

So anywho, I’m sitting here tonight wishing for summer vacation. Not mine, of course, because I’ll be working all summer. The husband’s. In roughly a week, I get my husband back. We’ll be grilling, (making an attempt at) playing tennis, riding the motorcycle, and all kinds of other summery things. I’m thinking a late night on the deck with a bottle of wine would do us wonders at this point.

But it will have to wait. (Just a little longer.)

Oh, and best of all, in about a week I won’t be ironing day in and day out to keep the husband looking so good. Yay. For. That.

attained

2010-04-29T21:13:00.003-05:00

A moment paying bills and I noticed this phrase:

The premium change is due to:
spouse attaining age 27.

Hit me while I'm down? No.

Use any excuse you can find because you're a corrupt industry? Yes.

Yes, I'm old. Yes, I've attained the age of 27. And yes, it's far better than the alternative.

Not dead, not cheap, but still insured.

(Broke, from paying insurance premium, but still insured.)

book du jour

2010-04-22T20:35:00.004-05:00

I bought this book thinking, hmm, it would be nice to witness a guy maturing over time (for once).

So far, it hasn't happened. And he's still... "partying"... a lot.

Here's a sneak peak at the thought process of an immature (and high) guy: "I stumbled outside, gave some paper from my pocket to an exotic-smelling man with a yellow car, and soon I was home and asleep."

Leave it to a guy to call this a transition into adulthood. But as long as I keep laughing, I'll keep reading. We shall see if the remaining pages are enough to turn a boy into a man.

Or at least, a boy into a man who knows he acts like a boy.

out on a limb

2010-04-22T20:17:00.003-05:00

Today a client joked that he had his lawyer on speed dial.

I think I'd just like to go out on a limb and say that if you have to call your lawyer more than twice a day, then you've got issues. And I'm not referring to the issues for which you've hired an attorney.

I think I'll impose a limit. You can only call my office three times a day. Then, you're cut off. Save it for tomorrow or fix it yourself. (I'll even set up a little tally sheet for our receptionist!)

Yes, I can definitely see this resulting in a huge decrease in my daily distractions, at least judging by the numerous offenders today...

me day!

2010-04-21T17:59:00.002-05:00

You all know it's Secretary Day, right? Do you need to stop reading, go out and buy a card, and deliver it to that special someone who keeps your life functioning? (Do it now! I'll wait.)

Anyway, today is a very important day. It's the day set aside to recognize that all the typing and phone answering I do is actually a little bit important. And not just that, but also all the time I spend dealing with people. (Ugg. People.) I'm part mistake-catcher, part problem-fixer, and part therapist. I connect you to what you need (if you haven't pissed me off).

I always enjoy this day because it includes the one test that we secretaries can't help our bosses with: the purchase and delivery of the Administrative Assistant Day gift and/or card. At my firm, it's our receptionist's job to remind all the lawyers (repeatedly) of the day.

Even with that prompting, it was 11:30 before we witnessed our fearless leader sneak out of the office and return with a Hallmark bag. I then watched as he made a trip into each lawyer's office with this bag. (Subtle.)

They do get bonus points, though, because this year the cards weren't all the same, and it seemed like each lawyer added his own thoughts in the card along with an actual signature, rather than a signature stamp. (And as far as I know, no lawyer handed his secretary a card and said, "Here, sign this for me and make sure it gets out today.")

I guess it might sound like I'm disappointed at their effort, but I actually think it's pretty cute when they try to accomplish things on their own. And I know for a fact that they, well, the head guy, at least, did this all by himself without the aid of his secretary, his wife, or our receptionist.

As for the rest of the business of the day, we secretaries kept that running a little more smoothly. And what better compliment on Secretary Day than to see just how valuable we really are.

because of you

2010-04-20T18:45:00.003-05:00

Dear Cat:

I love you because you're fat and squishy, because you're so cute and hairy, and because you do funny things.

Scratching my walls (leaving claw marks in the dry wall!!!) is not one of those things. Cut it out.

It's because of you that I've taped that wax paper to the wall in your favorite spots, and because of you that people will judge me and call me "crazy cat lady" when they visit my home and notice said wax paper.

Just remember this, Cat: I will win this battle. Even if I have to cover YOU in wax paper.

Yours truly,
the human who feeds you

quota

2010-04-17T08:50:00.003-05:00

Where were you last night?

I was sitting behind this guy and reading all his fb action over his shoulder.

Then some kids came out of the wall to sing.

I basically paid only enough attention to avoid a ball in the face. I must have been doing well enough, because I managed to avoid the few close calls that there were.

So although the company was excellent, I feel I've filled my baseball, over-the-shoulder fb spying, and red t-shirt quota for a while.

Baseball, schmaseball. Tonight will be much more fun.

team effort

2010-04-11T16:55:00.003-05:00

This credenza was made possible by the following awesome people:

Thank you to Moe for a day of navigating, programming Gwyneth (the GPS lady), and general moral support.

Thank you to my brother for so generously trading vehicles with me. By the way, I'm enjoying your truck so much I think I may keep it!

Thank you to the Pier1 lady for being so kind and so helpful, and for loading this huge thing in the truck.

Thank you to Poe for securing my load a little better along the way.

Thank you to God and Mother Nature for no rain and no bird poop.

Thank you to my great (and strong) gal pal for helping me unload and move it in.

And thank you to the husband, who won't mind at all that I've done this while he's out of town.

To all of you, and those I've failed to mention, Thank You. You're awesome!

(Now it's on to the next project.)

better late than detained in customs

2010-04-05T17:15:00.003-05:00

Good news! Nearly three years in, I may now leave the country as a married person.

And this concludes the name-changing portion of my life.

death on good friday

2010-04-02T23:09:00.007-05:00

Here lies the chocolate bunny my co-worker gifted me this morning:

Of course, at the time, he was in the shape of a chocolate bunny.

"I'll be fine!" he said, as I cracked my sunroof in the Barnes & Noble parking lot. "Really!"

But I never should have believed you, little chocolate bunny.

Never should have believed you.

!!!

2010-03-27T10:10:00.006-05:00

When the husband came inside mid-mow and told me, "You have GOT to come see this," I was a little hesitant.

"Do I need shoes? Is it alive? Am I going to mess up my wet toe nails?"

But I followed him nonetheless. I risked snakes, huge hairy spiders, and hoped it was what I suspected:

A BUNNY BABY!!!!

Maybe I need to start putting my apple cores in a more bunny-baby-safe spot. It would not be a happy Easter if the mower started hurling severed bunny baby parts all over the yard.

27

2010-03-24T12:16:00.004-05:00

I am writing this blog entry as a 27 year old.

Yes, it's true, I'm old now.

26 can almost be rounded down to college age. 27, undoubtedly, is practically 30.

Nevertheless, I had a wonderful birthday celebrating like an old person would. No wild parties or drinking until the wee hours of the morning. No, I'm old now. Celebrations must be calm and quiet and must not interfere with my bedtime.

If you happened to notice my absence on my actual birthday, it's because my laptop went into a coma last Friday and we weren't able to pull it off life support until yesterday. The good news is, it's running faster and better than it ever has. (Happy Birthday to me!) The bad news is, I'm not a pleasant person when my laptop isn't pleasant to me.

So anyway, here's a recap of what you've missed in my boring (and now, old) life in the last week:

1. My computer attempted suicide.

2. I became old, but had a wonderful time doing it.

3. My computer was revived.

So, see? It was traumatic, but we all survived and nobody really missed anything.

(the sugar and wire creation found atop my work birthday cake)

fence!!!

2010-03-16T18:57:00.004-05:00

FENCE!!!!

(Privacy!!!)

* I need to figure out how to age wood. More specifically, I need to figure out how to age two fence panels about two and a half years.

Thoughts: Do carrots need to be refrigerated? I have a new friend outside and if the husband spots my carrot stash, he's going to know there's some funny bunny business going on.

Observations: I'm going to use Les Curtis Services for all my home and yard needs! What speedy (and professional) service!!!

restraint

2010-03-14T20:39:00.005-05:00

Ok, I know I've been posting a lot of pictures from the bathroom lately.

But I just wanted to let you all know that I refrained from a bathroom-photo-opportunity this weekend when I drug a case of beer in there and started playing with the scale to check the husband's and my math.

From now on I will try to limit the bathroom pics unless the story is REALLY good.

And no, I wasn't drunk during that episode either. (Don't you almost wish I was?)

tiny treasure

2010-03-14T19:32:00.007-05:00

speaking of joy in the tiniest things...

I've just got to share my newest prized possession!

Here's the thing, my brother just returned from a jaunt across the pond. And among the various and assorted European goodies he brought me (including a bottle of wine with Bach's mug shot on the label, and many lovely wearable and edible treats), he also brought me another trinket: something that can't be bought, and something I'll probably never have the opportunity to acquire on my own.

See, he flew first class. And maybe you know this (I didn't), but when you skip the pond first class you get a lovely cosmetic bag full of goodies! Socks, eyemask, face cream, and all kinds of lovely presents!

Get this: he brought me his goody bag!

And something you may not know about me: I am all about things that are out of proportion. (I'm trying really hard to figure out a reason why I would need gigantic plastic Easter eggs. Or the teeny tiny canisters I saw at Target.) But anyway, for whatever reason, I love things more when they are the wrong size.

So you can imagine my shock and joy when I saw the teeny tiny tube of Colgate toothpaste in the airline brand makeup bag. Not just a travel size, you skeptical readers, but a teeny tiny size. Not 3 ounces. No, this is a mere 5 grams.

(Look:)

And just to make sure you understand the tini-ness:

So I've been agonizing over where to put my tiny new treasure and I've decided I'm going to carry it around in my purse for a while and see how many conversations I can squeeze it into somewhat smoothly. So if you see me out and about, ask me about dental hygiene!!!

(I dare you.)

thx

2010-03-11T07:33:00.004-06:00

I've never treated money as my scorecard. As long as I have enough to eat, drink and be somewhat merry, I have enough.

Maybe it's because I don't have enough to know better, but I'm under no illusions that money determines happiness. However, there are many other things I feel are worth counting.

I often feel we should be counting Thank Yous. How many did you get today? (Even better, how many were completely unexpected?) And how many Thank Yous were you able to give away today?

So, announcing my New Favorite Thing:

ThxThxThx is a lovely blog, part gratitude journal, part charming, part whimsical.

Dear ThxThxThx,

Thank you for pointing out the joy in the tiniest things. I believe your refreshing outlook is enough to change the world.

Thx again,
p-c

useless news

2010-03-09T18:51:00.005-06:00

For crying out loud! There is no discipline in this home.

I went upstairs to use the husband's computer and witnessed the cat's attempt to devour an entire page of "Jerusalem, My Happy Home."

Can you train a cat? Or more to the point, can you scold a cat? I gave the cat a forceful "No" reminiscent of my drum major days and he only took a second to glace away from the sheet music before returning to his dinner.

But you know what? That's eerily similar to my reaction when somebody tries to tell me "No."

Aww!!! He's taking after his mother!!!

No, but seriously, we are still not capable of being parents. Who knows what song the cat's in the middle of right now...

And in other useless news, I think my impersonation of a broken corkscrew last night was hilarious. (So hilarious that I was laughing too hard to explain what I was trying to do.)

The husband? Oh, I think he was worried. Or maybe even scared.

Why? Because I was sober.

Nope. This is not the blog of a suitable parent.

(picture me standing with my arms out)

declaration

2010-03-07T15:00:00.005-06:00

I've put it off as long as I can, but I think it's time.

It is with regret that I declare today, OFFICIALLY, Shot to Hell.

Yeah. This day is definitely a lost cause.

Why? Because I'm exhausted! Home at 2 a.m., left again at 8 a.m., home at noon. I even think I'm too tired for a nap. The only thing I think I'm capable of right now is being as unproductive as possible. (Even a nap would be accomplishing more than this!)

The clouds and sprinkles? They can have some of the blame, too.

So all of you can just go ahead: pack up the to-do list, put on your pajamas, and get under a big cover on the couch.

Maybe tomorrow will have more success.

But today is a lost cause.

Forte agrees.

visitor guide

2010-03-07T07:45:00.005-06:00

I have reason to believe there are some New People showing up here to read my ramblings. (Is it you?)

And although I don’t cook and rarely entertain, I have been taught to be a gracious host. (Could I get you a drink while you’re here?)

So in the interest of any New People who might be joining us here, I’m going to post a few helpful hints to aid in getting the most eye rolls for your time. (Moe, you’re the Old Faithful reader, but you can still read this post.)

1. What’s this blog about, anyway?

The experts tell you that in order to have a great blog, you should set a main theme, or topic, and build on that main goal. Me? I don’t like to limit myself. This blog is about whatever the hell I want it to be about whenever the mood strikes. This is my space to dump, to vent, to share. This is my space to waste time.

2. Who’s this blog for?

Me. (See above.) If you want to read, you’re welcome to. However, please don’t think this is for your enjoyment or entertainment. If those things do happen (which, believe me – they probably won’t), that’s fine. If not, you’ll notice a handy button labeled “next blog” up in your right-hand corner. Feel free to click your way along at any time.

3. What should you expect?

Nothing. (Seriously.) To quote a teacher’s attempt at motivation, this blog is “mediocre at best.” Sometimes it makes sense only to me. Sometimes I’m the only one laughing. But remember? You chose to be here. So just go. It’s ok. I promise I won’t care.

4. What if you get upset?

Well, that was probably just due to my failed attempt at a joke. Try reading it again with lots of cynicism and sarcasm. Did that help?

5. What if you don’t understand?

Don’t sweat it! I probably didn’t understand either. Or, I was possibly sober when I typed it.

Here’s a key:

Paper-chain (“p-c”) – that’s me! I’m also sometimes referred to as “Carrie.”

The husband – that would be Mr. Paper-Chain. (You’ll hear all about him…)

Moe – my awesome mother.

Poe – my awesome father (though you probably shouldn’t call him that to his face).

The brother – yes, it really is this easy… though I’m considering “Boe.” What do you think?

So here you are, deciding whether or not to scroll down and read some more. If you haven’t clicked back to fb yet, I’d suggest taking a peek at the beginning.

And please, whatever you do, enjoy your stay and come again whenever you like!

ghetto gazette

2010-02-28T16:00:00.004-06:00

Here's a fun fact about me: I come from a town so small that the only thing news-worthy is gossip. Each neighborhood has its own nosey old lady ("reporter") who writes a tacky accounting ("column") of the events she can keep track of by staring out her windows. Believe it or not, these "columns" are actually published in the "newspaper".

Usually, these articles include things like church dinners, family reunions, new recipes, and the like.

Today, I'd like to appoint myself as that "reporter" for the ghetto.

See, we've had an exciting weekend here in the ghetto.

Friday marked the last business day of the month, so there was plenty of action at our shadiest neighbors' house. You know, quality time sitting in strange vehicles, signals built upon series of car honks, and lots of colorful visitors.

Saturday, the ucky house outside the office window got a bit of a face lift from the new purchasers. The multicolored siding all matches now, and shutters were hung. I personally like to think it's really brightening up the neighborhood, even though it's still surrounded by ucky.

Also Saturday, the U-hauls were plentiful. They were spotted out both of the living room windows. In keeping with my luck, I believe the Quiets are out completely, while the Shadies have only lost one member. I'm going to keep an eye out both windows to make sure I don't miss anything.

And today, I couldn't help but notice all the papers posted on the door of the pink house out the bedroom window. My secret dream (not secret anymore, is it?) is that the city will come tear it down before it falls in on itself. However, if it does collapse, I really hope I'm watching when it happens! Don't worry, I've never seen any sign of life over there.

I guess that's all there is to report here in the ghetto. If anything else transpires, don't worry, you'll find it here first!

Thoughts: If I drag the abandoned trampoline over here and place it behind the privacy fence, it could create a fun show for the drivers on the opposite side of the fence.

Observations: I will be one of those nosey old ladies... hell, I already am one! And it doesn't get better than this!

in hot water

2010-02-27T12:03:00.003-06:00

Too late for Valentine's Day.

Too early for my birthday.

Not roses.

Not candy.

A new faucet!!!!!

Which means... THE RETURN OF HOT WATER!!!

Seriously.

Best.

Husband.

Ever.

g, b & u

2010-02-20T15:26:00.003-06:00

The Good:

No, the great. No, the amazing! (The weather.) And I just went for a super long walk all through it! I think I forgot what 60 degrees feels like!

The Bad:

During my walk, I realized that I've been inside for so long, I've actually gone crazy. How could I have ever thought I could live further than walking distance from the park? Or the river? Or all these beautiful historic homes? See?? Crazy.

The Ugly:

That would be my once-enjoyable backyard. And the insurance fiasco that has ensued. And the prick-face that caused it all... But if there's anything I've learned at work, it's to not blog about pending litigations, and I may have one before this is all over.

But anyway, let's not dwell on the Bad and the Ugly. Time to go enjoy more Good!

the proof is in the closets

2010-02-18T20:00:00.008-06:00

It's been three days.

Three days of mortgage math, what-if calculations, and a lovely dose of fantasy.

Today, we saw the inside of the house. I walked in uncertain, leaving it all in the hands of the closets. And God, of course.

The house was lovely. The master closet was... lovely. But beyond that it was, merely, a house. A house just like the house next door.

And now I feel a little disappointed, a little relieved, and very comforted. Comforted because now I know that when somebody waves a shiny new house in front of me, I won't just bend over. I won't sell my soul for granite counter tops and a jacuzzi tub. No, not me, I have real estate morals.

So although there will be other battles, other decisions, and other foreclosure homes in my future, we have made it through this test, and this home will not be ours.

Unless, of course, it's still on the market in six months for an even more unbelievable price...

never say never

2010-02-15T22:18:00.003-06:00

It seems I've had a collision of truth.

Truth #1: I told the husband I didn't want to raise children in this house. (Whether I feel the desire to raise children at all, that's a development for another blog entirely.)

Truth #2: The husband has found multiple suitable renters for my home, rendering me, in effect, homeless. (It turns out the corner of Main Drag and Ghetto is prime real estate when there's a state of the art music school down the street.)

Truth #3: While humoring me and driving me around to look at houses for sale, the husband mused, "I'd like to live on the edge of town. Easy escape, etc."

Truth #4: My pathetic hobby of online house-searching combined with my pathetic desire to know it all led me to send a link to the husband today of what I believed to be his ideal (style, price, location) home.

It turns out that when the Old Wives (or the Farmers Almanac or the Feb. 2 Groundhog or whoever it was) said never say never, it was merely an abbreviated version of, "Never say you'll never buy a new construction mass market subdivision home."

And now, I'm afraid it might happen to me. 'Cause I said Never.

I told the husband the worst thing he could do is let me go visit the house. I might be seduced by the non-creaking wood floor, or the non-drug dealing neighbors.

I also told him that while I'd never buy that home (I'd be the laughing stock of my ego), I'd be willing to visit it anyway, just because I love visiting any home.

But there's still hope. The husband and the realtor may plan on meeting me at 1440 Autumn, but I'll most likely be waiting in the driveway of 1320 Autumn or 1410 Spring. Because seriously, it takes a photographic memory to see the difference.

I said Never, so this is what I get.

But we'll see if we get the house...

love is

2010-02-14T09:02:00.001-06:00

Love is: cutting a slit in the chicken to make sure it's fully cooked before I serve it to him. (Maybe someday I'll be such a good cook that won't be necessary...)

Love is: calling all over town for the piece of plastic I need and then redoing the binding on his church cookbook so he has easier access to the disgusting German recipes he loves.

Love is: sitting in the car in the grocery store parking lot for 18 minutes to listen to Copland's Appalachian Spring before going in.

Love is: driving me past a house he noticed on the market that we'll never buy but he knows I'd love to see.

Love is: always letting me pick the restaurant. Always.

Love is: hugs in the kitchen. Mid-sentence, mid-path, mid-life.

Love is: overwhelming contentment and overwhelming joy every day.

(Even on February 14.)

and then the snow melted...

2010-02-03T19:34:00.008-06:00

I think I should take a personal day tomorrow to pick up glass ...

The husband suggested I call it a sick day (sick of looking at glass in my grass), but seeing as how I now have no privacy, I feel it would be a bad decision to lie about a sick day and stand in my overly viewable yard.

He was cool enough to have tinted windows. Not cool enough to stay on the road where he belonged. (No, I did not wish to make my back yard a drive-thru. Please take your window with you.)

marital & technological bliss

2010-02-01T19:31:00.006-06:00

It’s a funny thing about marriage: you’ve seen one marriage, …

you’ve seen one marriage.

They’re all different and you certainly can’t speculate what goes on in someone else’s home.

However, I’ve read enough magazine articles and I’ve filed enough divorce petitions that I’ve figured out a serious factor involved in the dissolution of many marriages: money.

Some couples come to blows over the credit card statement.

I’ve never had that.

For this husband and wife, our blows come from another issue:

internet connectivity.

Seriously. The internet stops working in this house and it’s every spouse for him/herself. Neither of us have the patience or the knowledge to calmly address the situation. No, in this house, the internet goes down and the gloves come off.

And some couples fight over other things too, like bedtime activities. Some spouses have affairs.

We steal the other person’s modem.

BUT TONIGHT, when I came home from work, turned on the oven and pulled the chicken out of the fridge,

when the husband came downstairs and stated slowly, but ominously, “I’m Taking Your Modem,”

when I told him to hold on, left the chicken, and went upstairs to begin a problem solving adventure,

SOMETHING STRANGE HAPPENED: We seriously worked together and figured it out. Together. And although there were quite a few snippy remarks, there was no yelling and WE FIXED IT!

Seriously. That must be what marriage is all about.

I love you, Husband,

p-c

alertness detector

2010-01-30T12:42:00.003-06:00

1. Another fence panel just fell down.
2. The battery died on the carbon monoxide detector... so I took it out to make the beeping stop.
3. I noticed the filter light flashing on the thermostat.

The combination of element 2 and element 3 is not good for my imagination. I seriously went outside to check for snow obstructions around the spout on the roof (chimney? flue?).

It looked clear to me, but now I keep checking the alertness of the cat just to be sure.

He seems to be pretty clear, too.

I don't think the husband's next trip is until April... we'll see if I let him go.

yep

2010-01-30T08:07:00.005-06:00

Yep, the hole is still there. All the fragments are burried, but I did manage to trip over something on the other side of the yard...

Yep, it still sucks. But it could have been a lot worse.

no privacy

2010-01-29T19:15:00.009-06:00

Ok. Focus.

It's still snowing, and I think the roads are getting pretty slick. I decided this about the time I heard a big crash behind my house. I went to the kitchen to check it out and found... headlights. Right there at the bottom of my deck. And privacy fence panels everywhere.

Tonight was the first time I've ever called 911. I found it very comforting to see how well that system works. And as I talked with the nice lady, the stupid driver tried to escape! Then, he almost hit my car! Jerk.

So of course the cops came and although he "has insurance," he could not provide proof of said insurance. Yeah, we've all heard that story before.

And now, my adorable little house is a laugh-inducing crime scene! I feel so embarrassed for my house.

Husband: I'm sorry to inform you that all your pretty new grass has been torn to bits by an asshole trying to escape, and then an asshole mad about being caught.

Poe and Father-in-law: I love how you cemented in those fence posts a couple summers ago. It not only protected my pretty deck and house, but it also gave me a little satisfaction when the guy turned out to be such a jerk. I bet fence panels and quick-crete are cheaper than Lincoln Navigator parts.

The good camera is out of town with the wonderful husband. Hopefully both will return home soon and I'll have some daylight photos to post.

For now, though, I think I'll be sleeping on the side of the house opposite the intersection.

Safe travels,
p-c

the great american blog

2010-01-27T21:03:00.003-06:00

I have a confession. (Don't judge.)

If I was the genius I wished myself to be, I'd write a novel. (A great one.) And then, I'd write many more novels. In my fantasy, I imagine myself able to spin these books out as a hobby. I'd live a mundane life, hiding in secretary obscurity, but I'd also be publishing these great (but somewhat fluffy, of course) novels and getting fabulous reviews.

Here's why: I heart reading. When I was shorter, I loved reading. Then, I hated reading because it was all text books. Now, I love reading again. (Thanks, Moe, for buying all those Babysitter Club books back when I was shorter...)

The husband's out of town so I've been sitting here catching up on the blogs I "follow" and I found this: 12 Tips for Reading More. (Written by a #1 New York Times Bestseller on the topic of happiness, of course.)

She says to always have something to read. This is so me!!! I try to limit myself to one book in my purse at a time. Life is too short to just sit and wait. Every second should be enjoyed and books just pack so much easier than the cat.

Speaking of, the cat just walked in... I suppose I should be an attentive single mom... I can pet and read at the same time...

clock's a tickin

2010-01-16T09:20:00.000-06:00

Here it is, the plan for tomorrow:

9:00 - church.
* The usual. W/communion, I think.

10:15-ish - church potluck dinner.
* I think it's very strange that these people think it's appropriate to eat things like chili, fried chicken and spaghetti at 10:15 a.m.
* I'm supposed to provide either two vegetables or two desserts.... as if I know how to make a vegetable. Only God does that. I'm making cupcakes.

2:00 - organ dedication concert.
* Yes, that's right. My pipe organ is better than your pipe organ - it's all redone and fancy! (Jealous?)

3:00-ish - post-concert reception.
* Our Adults in Christ group is in charge of refreshments, so the breakdown is three dozen cookies per couple.
* I've never counted how many cookies are in a batch until today.

AfterThat-ish - choir party.
* At least the choir people were smart enough to put us in charge of plasticware for the party. Otherwise, I'd imagine they would receive the leftovers.

At this point, I'm seriously beginning to wonder what denomination would NOT feel the need to have a celebratory meal after every event/service/gathering/sunset/etc. Do you think

SORRY, GOT TO GO, OVEN TIMER!!!

sisterless

2010-01-15T19:59:00.005-06:00

I'm 26 and still learning. This is what I've learned: volunteer work is hard to find!

I guess I never realized it since you can give money to anyone any time of the day.

Here's a breakdown of what I've learned:

1. The Salvation Army serves supper at 4:00. (Who eats supper at 4:00?? Oh yeah.. the homeless.. sorry..) If it was even 4:15 I could give up my lunch hour and be there, but unfortunately, I have one of those cushy 8:30 - 5 jobs and just can't make it by 4.

2. To be a kitty-cat-petter at the Humane Society, I'd pretty much have to sacrifice Saturday mornings. Yes, the morning I fantasize about every other morning. I'm sorry, but I'm selfish, and my sheets are just too soft and cozy to give up repeated Saturday mornings. (We'll make that a last resort.)

3. There are no Little Sisters for me. I was told this by a nice lady who promised to keep me in the Big Brother Big Sister system until more little sisters came along. But still, this fact felt very appropriate, and yet very upsetting. There is no one for me.

So here's the recap:

a. Volunteers mainly work during weekdays. (I picture them all as being cute little retired ladies who quilt and bake pies.)

b. I have to be less selfish with my sleeping hours and my cozy sheets.

c. This journey might not be all kitty cats and little girls (as unwanted or underprivileged, respectively, as they may be).

But don't worry. I'll keep looking and I'll let you know what happens!
p-c

this old house

2010-01-11T07:14:00.002-06:00

Welcome to today's episode of This Old House, a blog where we look at houses so old that things keep falling apart, and complain about them until we feel better.

On today's episode, the dreaded drip.

Seriously! Wasn't I going to learn how to fix this stuff? First on my lesson plans - the damn dripping sink!

Ok, I know things could be worse. My Facebook is covered with friends who have frozen and burst pipes. And maybe the sub-zero temps are related to this problem. But still!

I woke up yesterday and I saw it (as I was sitting across from the bathroom sink, if you know what I mean): the drip. So what do I do? I start messing with it, of course. And since all I know is how to turn the water on and off below the sink, that's what I do! Well, I made it worse, of course.

Now, the hot water is off (but still dripping). I'm hoping the drip means it won't freeze...

Worst of all, I'm beginning to think that the husband must only use cold water because this doesn't seem to be driving him crazy like it is with me.

So yes, we have our new basement windows ordered. I have devised a simple plan for finishing the upstairs closet. But now, the stupid sink is leaking. Ah, the joys of This Old House.

your 8:30 is here, sir

2010-01-06T19:35:00.003-06:00

So I've been at my job for almost three and a half years. We recently lost our bookkeeper, so now I'm in charge of billing for my boss, too. (Anybody need a job???)

Today I was working on billing and I got to a point where I needed to chat with my boss to get some questions answered. And I had a fabulous idea.

I scheduled myself an appointment with my boss to discuss bills. I thought it was a hilarious idea and imagined him cracking up when he found it in his calendar.

But as soon as I synced our calendars, he walked out of his office and I told him. I blew the surprise! (No shock there.)

And as I was laughing at this clever, yet hilarious thing I'd just done, he gave me the "uh..." look, said ok, and went on his way.

To me? Hilarious. To him? Not so much.

But who cares? I'm still laughing!
p-c