I’m fully convinced we could never (never EVER) have a “fixer upper.”
In order to maintain a healthy marriage, we will only be able to buy new homes.
I’m not kidding.
I don’t think I’m the only married woman who has experienced the strife of home project fights with their spouse- right?
What is it about trying to do a home project together that seriously brings out the worst in both parties?
I seriously need a grant to study this stuff.
I have this mirror I got ages ago- when we were first married. We’ve been needing to hang it up for months now and have just been putting it off-
probably because we already know how seriously grumpy we get when having to embark on such efforts.
I know as married people we should be all googly eyed and adoring and supportive.
“Oh here, sweetie! Let me hand you that hammer. You look a little dry- would you like some lemonade?”
But the reality is that we’re normal. Very normal.
And screw lemonade.
We recognize that stuff like this only ends up in ridiculous arguments and therefore avoid such tasks at all costs.
Because we love each other- I’m willing to have bare walls.
Sure, we’ll hang a few things throughout the course of the year- but I’m always sure to try to space them out so as to avoid too much “Home Depot Tension” around our place.
I know I’ve said this like a MILLION times on my blog- but Will and I would seriously seriously end up in major marital trouble if we ever had to go on The Amazing Race.
It’s not that we don’t love each other- we so, so do.
It’s not that we can’t work together- we really, really can.
There are just a few certain things we don’t do well- and home improvement projects are one of those certain things (and for some reason I tend to liken The Amazing Race to one super giant home improvement project).
We literally spent our entire Saturday attempting to hang this mirror.
“You’re not helping at all!”
“You’re not telling me what to do!”
“For the thousandth time- will you PLEASE hand me the freaking hammer!!?”
“Is the mirror crooked?”
“I already told you- I don’t have a good eye for these things!”
“Yes you do- is the mirror crooked?!”
“Um, no? It looks great...”
20 minutes later and 4 holes in the wall…
“The mirror is crooked! You said it looked great!”
...
Yes, it was quite a day.
I hate the grumpiness it causes, but am always happy with the results.
Now- if there’s only a way to get rid of the grumpiness and move straight to the results… that would be great.
I still have so many bare walls in our house, and I’m afraid there’s lots more hanging in our future. Hopefully we’ll start to be pros at this stuff.
And if not-
at least we have lots of other wonderful happy things that bind us together and strengthen our love.
Too bad home improvement projects aren’t one of those things- but I guess that’s why God invented The Doghouse.
Why oh why do I feel compelled to get totally crazy and go sing karoke? I HAVE NO IDEA! Did you guys know aside from bad weather singing is my biggest fear ever?
So- we both know I’d never get my butt up on stage and sing. But if I did, right now and this very second I would sing this:
For many years now I have relied upon this old wives tale advice for how to absolutely avoid crying at the most inopportune times.
In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve shared this fun fact with you on more than one occasion.
When you think you’re going to cry during a time in which you really, really shouldn’t (ie:work, in front of in-laws, work) all you have to do is squeeze your butt together really, really hard and you’ll be totally fine and won’t cry.
I relied on this advice for many years- after all, it was Amber V.’s mom who said it- and she was a nurse.
Which apparently means she knows everything regarding one’s derriere and the correlation of not crying.
Right?
Well, my friend, I’m here to tell you that Amber V’s mom is wrong.
I’ve really tried to psych myself into believing this was good advice- after all, there had been times in which it did work- however I think it was way more of a mental thing and way less of a squeezing thing.
I’m here to tell you guys that I’m no longer convinced this is a sure fire way to avoid looking like a freaking idiot in front of others.
...
Although-
now that I think of it- “The Squeeze” pretty much makes you look like a freaking idiot too.
I feel as though I need to inform you guys that perhaps my initial analysis is incorrect and I might have made my first mistake ever (ha ha).
I would recommend the nail digging tactic (in which you dig your nails into your skin as hard as you possibly can almost to the point of blood so that instead of wanting to cry all you can think about is whether you’re hemmoraging all over yourself)- however after this week I must confirm this is not always a reliable tactic either.
So, I fear I’m back to square one. I rarely have to call upon these useful tricks, but now that they have been tested throughout the course of my lifetime (and most recently this week) I must say that I believe we’re back to square one.
I guess if all else fails you could try a combination of both?
Now THAT would be funny to watch.
I suppose now I will simply resort to the old Picture Them Naked Trick.
Um- actually… I’m thinking about that and- no.
There’s no way I could do that without throwing up.
How about the Picturing Them in a Chicken Suit Trick?
Do you think that’s more solid?
Definitely. Anytime you’re talking about someone in a chicken suit-that’s solid conversation.
Okay so I give up. I just thought I’d pass on some useful (ha ha. Useful. I’m hilarious.) information if you’re ever caught in an uncomfortable bind.
Plus I needed to lighten my mood a bit. I’ve been way.too.serious. this week.
And who likes serious?
(Aside from our parents of course. And maybe the person doing my taxes...)
No one!
Should you have a PSA of your own, feel free to leave it in the Share The Love section.
That is all.
You may now go back to your regularly scheduled Thursday night.
There are a few things in life I don’t joke around with.
Food is one of them.
When it comes to sharing dessert?
You’re so on your own.
Envision a wild lion preying on an innocent gazelle. When I eat and/or share a dessert it tends to be a little Animal Planetish. Full of raw carnage and inappropriateness.
Oh- and if you’re not careful I might accidentally spear you with my fork.
All in good fun, of course.
So I was quite surprised today when my dear husband- who has been speared and gorged out of many a dessert in our marriage- “accidentally” ate our last box of Thin Mints.
Girl Scout Thin Mints.
Girl Scout Thin Mints that are sold only once a year Thin Mints.
And proceeded to pretend as though it was truly an accident.
“I forgot we were going to share the last box! Honest!”
Honest!?
HONEST?
HA! I invented the “honest” ploy! Trust me- that’s the oldest one in the book!
Not only that. but he also opened our last box of Tagalongs and already ate an entire row.
Thank God I was able to salvage the rest.
There are some things I take very seriously.
Desserts are one of them.
My advice to Will?
Sleep with one eye open, dear. There are few things that push me over the edge-
Two kindhearted people- Bill and Whitney- met, fell in love, and decided to get married and call it a day in a small village outside the heart of Happyville.
Life was good.
Soon after getting settled Bill and Whitney decided their life was missing something. Sure it was swell and loads of good times, but something still seemed lacking.
So Bill and Whitney decided it was time to bring two little precious babies into their life, Roz and Suzy.
Roz and Suzy added an element of fun and surprise into Bill and Whitney’s life. It was just what they needed.
Life continued to tick on in the world of Happyville, and Bill and Whitney continued to enjoy their time with each other as well as Roz and Suzy.
Before they knew it two years had passed from the time they welcomed their little babies into their family. They were full grown and closer to Bill and Whitney more than ever.
Life was good.
One day, however, Bill looked at his wife and said, “Whitney, I think our family is still missing something.”
“You really think so?” she questioned. After all- they had two beautiful children, a house outside of Happyville, and season tickets to the Boomers - their favorite soccer team.
“What could possibly be missing?” she thought.
“I feel like our family needs to grow just a little more. I’ve always wanted two bigger babies- big beastly ones that play outside in the grass and protect our little house from the Ogres of Stillwater.”
Whitney was skeptical. Very skeptical. She was happy with her little life with Bill, Roz, and Suzy. Was there really need to grow it any larger?
With big beastly babies- at that?
Bill was persistent, and Whitney finally decided beastly outside babies couldn’t be all bad. Perhaps she would grow to love them as much as Roz and Suzy.
So- Bill and Whitney decided it was time to add to their little family, and so it was.
Betty and Jocky joined the family as the beautiful outside beastly babies Bill had always hoped for.
Once again life was good.
Whitney was not accustomed to large outside beastly babies, and so it took some warming up to them day-by-day. She soon began to grow fond of them, even volunteering to feed and walk them.
However, things would take a slight turn for the worse.
One day when Whitney arrived home she had a surprise at her door- the Happyville village Knights of Safety!
Apparently Betty and Jocky were being especially beastly and obnoxious that day- causing a disturbance among the other villagers. Whitney was terribly embarrassed for causing such a raucous and began to contemplate whether adding to her perfect little family was a wise decision.
Bill reassured her that Betty and Jocky were still baby beasts and as they began to grow things would get better. This seemed to easy Whitney’s mind-
and life was good.
Days and weeks went on and things seemed to return to normal. No surprise knocks on the door- which was good. However, Betty and Jocky began to grow
and grow
and grow.
They grew into giants- far taller than any of the Ogres of Stillwater Whitney had ever seen!
With their new bodies came new behaviors-behaviors with Bill and Whitney were not accustomed. Roz and Suzy never behaved in such a manner so it was very new.
Jocky and Betty would sleep all day and play all night- growling and howling and barking until the wee hours of the morning. Bill spent many nights back and forth between bed and the couch making sure he quiet them at a moment’s notice to ensure the village Knights of Safety would not arrive at their house. Bill and Whitney always seemed to be tired.
“These outside beasts were not supposed to be so difficult!” they thought to themselves.
Jocky and Betty soon began to eat everything in sight as well- Bill’s shoes which he accidentally left outside, the spout covers, grass, doggie poo… you name it- they ate it.
They also destroyed the yard. Remnants of chewed toys, trash, and junk were spread throughout the entire area. Ugly dirt holes took the place of pretty, green lush grass. Whitney was embarrassed of what she called her “White Trash Backyard.” It was awful. Trashy, holey, muddy, and yucky. Totally unfit for the yards in Happyville.
Although awkward and obnoxious puppies, Bill and Whitney continued to love them, slowing training them good behavior and rewarding their good efforts.
However, one night Jocky and Betty crossed the line.
They interrupted Bill’s sattelite feed- making it impossible to watch his Boomer games.
Bill awoke to a strange crunching noise. He went to the outside door and screamed in horror. Betty and Jocky had chewed the entire cable in half, rendering the TV completely useless.
In their fun they destroyed Bill’s most favorite thing in the whole world- his TV box.
Whitney hadn’t seen Bill so down since the time the Boomers made it to the Big Game and lost to Crocodiles.
Bill was down in the dumps.
Whitney inspired him to work on the wires- to see if it would be possible to have some TV.
Bill reluctantly gave it a shot.
As it turned out- Bill and Whitney still had TV access but no recording capability-
which was still bad but far better than initially thought.
Bill and Whitney put their heads together and built a protective barrier around the remaining cords- which “enhanced” the already trashy looking yard.
And in some strange way- Jocky and Betty seemed to know they were grounded- very, very grounded and began to be a little less beastly and a little more mannerly.
Bill and Whitney continued to work on good behavior- and Jocky and Betty began to react in such a way.
Not always-
but sometimes.
At this point- during the “puppydom” period- Bill and Whitney lived for sometimes.
Bill and Whitney continued to grow their affections for Jocky and Betty-
but agreed that they would not need any more beasts- outside or inside for a long, looong time.
Life was once again good in their little Happyville village existence-
and Bill, Whitney, Roz, Suzy, Jocky, and Betty lived happily-
See, we’re granted “X” amount of general leave hours each year. There’s no special set days off for being sick, it’s all lumped into one “general leave” pool of days. So- if you take a sick day you’re actually losing a vacation day.
I call this The No Fun Zone.
You see, I’d rather come to work with mucous running uncontrollably out of my left nostril, hacking up loogies (ha ha- how do you spell “loogies??”) the size of a Christmas ham, and sneezing on every open surface available than use one of my general leave days to call in sick.
My coworkers love me.
Okay- I’ll be honest- I’m not fond of people who come to work sick either.
My left eye begins to twitch at the thought of Mr. Accountant handing me damp papers full of remnants of his last sneeze.
“GO HOME!! YOU’RE INFECTING THE ENTIRE OFFICE!” I want to yell.
However, I can sort of empathize with Mr. Accountant, because really- who wants to blow a vacation day when you’re sick!? You want to blow a vacation day when you’re on-
VACATION.
What an idea, right?
So- I have become the person I hate.
The come-to-work-sick-employee.
Shudder.
The truth is- most of us are the come-to-work-sick-employees. It’s like a race to see who can get rid of their ailments the fastest.
It’s the “If I’m miserable, I’m bringing everyone down with me” mentality.
Like a game.
I’m not kidding.
“Oh hi Jane! How are you (hack, hack, hack)?”
Two days later and Jane is down with a cold and Sam has made a full recovery.
I’ve found wet, snotty tissues “misplaced” on my desk the other day.
HA- I know what you’re trying to do Mr. Finance! You’re trying to bring me down!
You’re trying to hold me back.
You’re trying to stick it to the (wo)MAN!
I’m on to you- I see how you play.
Work is no longer just about getting the job done.
It’s about survival.
Survival I say!
It’s as though we’re being broadcast on Animal Planet and the terrifying mother Cheetah Cold Virus Middle Manager is hunting for her helpless gazelle Administrative Assistant.
It’s a perpetual relay race of Passing The Cold.
And sadly- I lost.
I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that donut randomly lying on my desk.
That was a rookie mistake!
Anyway…
Because I took 3 weeks off for the cruise in August I’m in mega (I mean MEGA) vacation debt. I think it will be like 5 years before I’m back to “0” and finally accruing general leave hours again. However, thankfully I was able to purchase 4 days this year- you know just incase I catch a cold want to leave the state of Oklahoma at some point this year.
4 days.
FOUR DAYS.
For the entire year.
The entire year.
So-
Unfortunately I caught the aforementioned (and stricken) cold.
Because of The Random Donut
HOWEVER-
I’ll be darned (yes- that’s right DARNED) if I’m going to use one of my purchased days off to recover.
So I’ve been snotting, and hacking, and choking all over myself (and anyone in a 7 foot radius). I’ve had tears streaming down my face in attempts to hold back coughing fits. I sound like Death and/or Satan when I speak because my voice is so low and throaty and sickly and deathly.
I’m also a JOY to be around.
Really- I am.
I’ve tried my best to avoid what I call the Damp Paper Handoff as mentioned earlier. I mean- you gotta set limits, right? While I may have lost this maniacal game of Pass The Cold- I honestly have no desire to bring anyone down with me.
With my luck I’d get it right back and end up using the last of my vacation days shaking on my couch in a feverish stupor.
Nice.
So- here’s to a speedy recovery-
and a nice, long, four day vacation somewhere fun.
1. I ordered Girl Scout cookies yesterday. For “family in Kuwait.” Okay- so I’m lying. After all- this is Tuesday Confessions, right? So I ordered 10 boxes yesterday for “family” so I wouldn’t look like a total fatty. The truth is that we bought 10 boxes for ourselves. Because we suck. And we’re fat.
2. I will be 26 old this year and I still get embarrassed to buy tampons. Really. How immature is that?
3.I didn’t wash my hair yesterday. That’s typically no big deal, I generally go a day or two between washings. HOWEVER I lifted weights at the gym the day before and got sweaty and STILL did not wash my hair this morning. I opted for a quick shower and 30 extra minutes of sleep. Because I am gross. And fat (read #1).
4. Will always asks me to make sure the lines on his gotee/beard/thing (I’m not sure what exactly it’s classified as now) are straight and almost always I have absolutely no idea if they are or not. So I say just yes.
5. I tend to be slightly obsessive compulsive. Ross and Rachel found this out last weekend when I had to triple check that the straightener was unplugged PLUS have Will confirm. So I have this system, this schedule, for cleaning my house- and I don’t deviate. I’m two days behind and it’s really, truly making me all itchy and sweaty and crazy. Must.Not.Deviate. So despite my obsession with having a clean house, since I’ve already missed two days of “The Holy Schedule” I would rather wait until the cycle starts over again. Because I am crazy. And gross (read #2). And fat (read #1).
Anything weighing you down (aside from 10 boxes of Girl Scout cookies) that you need to get off your chest? Leave it behind in the “Share the Love” section.
I’m pretty sure we lost from the second Will and I got on the airplane.
Although- it didn’t seem so at first.
We rode the same plan as Heisman quarterback Sam Bradford’s parents as well as Jeremy Beal’s parents.
Good sign, right?
We thought so.
We ended up getting delayed on our way there, which was a bit of an annoyance- yet we didn’t think it was the end of the world.
Ha.
We got to Miami late and had to wait almost an hour catch the Enterprise shuttle to get a rental car.
That whole slogan, “Pick Enterprise, We Pick You Up” is a HUGE lie. Apparently that holds true for all places except Miami.
We waited forever and finally caught the shuttle to enterprise.
When we got there we should have known there was going to be a problem. A mass of people, all clad in game gear, was standing outside waiting for a shuttle to take them to their hotels.
Hmm- that seems strange, right?
Will got in line and waited.
We waited, and waited, and waited.
Will finally got to the counter and the manager turned the lights off- all in attempts to say that Enterprise no longer had any cars- despite people making reservations for cars 3 weeks in advance- and that they were closing for the night.
Bad sign?
We thought so…
Yeah- Will wasn’t humored.
They offered to take us to our hotel and bring us back in the morning for a car.
Um- no.
They briefly mentioned trying to go to their sister company’s office to see if they would be able to honor our reservation.
Will and I decided to take a chance and walked over to the rental place. A tiny hole in the wall kiosk sort of place.
Nice.
Apparently a lot of Enterprise customers had the same idea. There was a line almost out the door all full of people hoping that this company didn’t give away all their cars just as Enterprise did.
We waited, and waited, and waited once again.
Will finally got to the counter.
The Oklahoma gods were looking out for us because we got the very.last.car.on.the.lot.
Everyone else was turned away.
Good sign?
We sure thought so.
We were the proud renters of a white Dodge minivan.
Oh yeah baby.
We loaded up and returned to the airport to pick up Ross and Rachel (we took different flights).
While we waited I made a video recapping the evening. As you will see- Will was not humored.
At all.
HA HA I look freaking hilarious in the freeze frame Flickr used. Nice.
We got Ross & Rachel, went to the hotel and called it a night- or late morning… whatever.
The next day we donned our Sooner gear and were ready to go to Miami!
We should have known we were destined to lose…
We got on the elevator and were on our way down (with a dozen other people, some OU fans, some Gator fans… fun times). As we arrived to the ground level, the elevator got stuck.
We couldn’t get the door open.
Bad sign?
We thought so.
This insane Gator fan started to panic and freak out. She began yelling and beating on the door. She started trying to pry it open yelling, “You don’t understand! I’ve got to get out of here! You don’t understand! HELP! HELP!”
We don’t understand that you’re psycho and need to calm the crap down in situations like this?
Yeah- we pretty much understood, lady.
All of a sudden we started to go up again.
Um- not a good sign.
We got to the 2nd floor and there was this huge jolt.
Yeah- I was thinking I was about to meet my Maker right there in a Miami elevator.
What a bad way to go.
We finally somehow got back to the ground level- with this woman going absolutely insane and really freaking us out. Ross and Will were trying to calm her down, but it wasn’t working.
The door finally opened and we tripped the lady on our way out.
Kidding.
But don’t think it didn’t cross my mind.
Bad sign?
We thought so…
The rest of the morning and afternoon was great. We went to Hard Rock for lunch, walked around, and took pictures. We went to South Beach and had fun there too. It was a really good afternoon.
Good sign?
We thought so…
We went back to the hotel to freshen up and get ready for the big game. We arrived at the stadium ready to claim our title. This game was ours for the taking.
Well- at least we thought so…
As soon as I entered the stadium I ran into a couple that used to teach me in Sunday school! Too crazy. They moved to Florida and got tickets to the game. I hadn’t seen them in years. What a small world.
I took that as a good sign.
While we were wandering the stadium we decided to get dinner.
As I was waiting in line I ran into my ex-boyfriend’s parents!
Random, right? I mean, I know a lot of people I knew were probably going to be at the game, but in a stadium that size I didn’t figure I’d run into one person- let alone a whole freaking family!
I hadn’t really talked to them since the breakup, so it was nice to catch up.
After my 2nd random encounter we had dinner and were on our way to our seats when…
I ran into not only my ex’s parents- but the whole entire family.
I was going to play it off like I didn’t see them (mainly because I’d seen my ex a few times since the breakup and he totally ignored me), but my ex actually called me over and we talked. He got to meet Will, and I met his wife.
It was sort of nice because things had ended badly. It was sort of like closure because we’re past all that now (I mean it was like 6 freaking years ago) and are both really happy in life.
So- I figured I ought to count that as a good sign.
We got to our seats and were ready for the big game.
Can we please glaze over this part?
Thanks.
I should have known it was going to be a bad game when the Gator girl in front of us flicked Will off.
Yeah- I probably should have taken that as a bad sign.
The game was slow the first half, and well- you know how the 2nd half ended.
We left the stadium bummed about the loss and decided a huge pile of fast food may dull the pain.
Well I thought that…
We drove around for literally an hour trying to find a place that was open.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Don’t drive-thrus in Florida stay open late!?!
Apparently not…
We finally found a Wendy’s that had a drive thru open late. At this point it was 1:15. “Yes!! It says the drive thru is open until 2!”
As we approached the drive thru we noticed that the drive thru was open until 2 on Fridays thru Saturdays.
It closed at 1:00 Mondays-Thursdays.
Talk about irony.
We couldn’t catch a break!
So- we just headed back to the hotel.
The next day was pretty much full of airport stuff- which is generally never fun.
We got in Friday night, and it was so nice to be home.
The doggies were very happy to see us, as you can imagine.
My house is a mess, but I’ve vowed not to clean it until tomorrow.
Sort of a mourning thing, perhaps?
All-in-all it was a really fun quick trip.
I know I painted a depressing picture with all the “bad signs,” but I was sort of kidding about all that.
Sort of.
We had a nice time. It was really fun to go with another couple too. It made the trip a lot more fun.
So, we didn’t win our eighth this week and that’s pretty unfortunate. I have no idea what this means for the next season, Bob, Sam, everything…
I just know I’m sort of glad the season is over and now my husband can focus on going thru footlockers with me (ha ha).
Hope you guys had a good weekend. boomer sooner <3
I was up before 5:00 yesterday morning with a sick husband and barking dog.
Why are men so much worse about being sick than women? Seriously!
I don’t think men could ever handle pregnancy or childbirth or PMS… they’re the biggest babies ever!
“Feel my head.”
“I’m shivering.”
“Ow! My body is achy.”
“Will you make me tea? It tastes better when you do it, and I don’t know how.”
Sigh. I love him, and I know I’m bad too, but at 5:00 in the morning!?! Yeah- it’s enough to drive me batty.
In sickness and in health, right?
I had to go to three different stores yesterday- three!
Two pharmacies were closed until 10:00, so I decided to bite the bullet and go to Wal-mart.
Amazingly, their pharmacy was closed until 10:00 too.
Sigh.
For some ridiculous reason Will wanted me to talk to a pharmacist. Apparently because I’m a moron sitting in a pile of my own drool and can’t piece together the fact that a runny nose, sore throat, and slight fever equaled a freaking cold or possibly the flu.
Sigh.
I was over waiting until 10:00 to talk to a pharmacist. I grabbed a box of Tylenol Cold, a thermometer, juice, and a bag of Soft Batch cookies.
The cookies? Yeah- those were for me.
For my troubles.
For my strength in nursing my poor sick husband back to health.
I believe this purchase was TOTALLY justifiable and does not count towards my, “Eat healthier Resolution (I use that term very loosely, by the way).’”
I'm B-Love. I've just returned to America after spending three years in Kuwait with my husband Mr. B-Love and our two maltese, Boz and Lucy. We recently added two more doggies to our family, Rocky and Teddy. I love weight training, OU football, and lazy weekends. Buckle up and get ready for my constant embarrassing moments, continual madness at a new job, and my daily effort to rely on Christ while adjusting to life back in the real world.
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