Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Who can take a nothing day and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile?

You can, Phoebe Jeans!

Happy 35th Birthday to one of the most wonderful, hilarious, fearless, and lovely people I have had the pleasure to know! I truly do not know what I would do without you in my life. You've been my sole support system too many times to count and I owe you the world for that. I couldn't have picked anyone better to stand by my side on my wedding day and I wouldn't trade one day we've spent together for anything.

I hope you have a truly amazing day and that everyone who is lucky enough to know you fawns all over you like stalkers. Especially your husband. I hope he realizes how lucky he is to have you. And I also hope he realizes that you were my wife waaaaay before he entered the picture! So I hope you have the best birthday a girl could ask for and that 35 is the best age you've had yet. And you're not OLD! You couldn't pay me to go back to my 20s!

Happy Birthday, Misery Guts. I love you.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Home isn't pretty. Ain't no home for me.


It's the end of an era.

This is the last week I'll live at the Ol' Kentucky Corral. It's bittersweet. The memories are seriously flooding my already overcrowded brain. I've been reliving it all...

Lisa crawling into my dryer on new Year's Eve, Ben dressed as a nun wrestling Rocko and Pat May, Phoebe having an overnight guest of the male persuasion who wore see-through panties, backyard shenanigans during some night time rain, me falling down the stairs and fracturing my back which lead to Hillbilly Heroin which lead to hilarity, the many places Johnny has passed out, all the PFG practices which consisted mostly of gossiping and giggling, doing shots out of the giant wooden spoon and then spanking each other with it,  preparing for Cannibalicious!, Todd (nakedly) proposing on our bedroom floor, a billion bands playing and a billion people rocking out in the Rock-a-Hula basement...

You know, I thought there would also be a plethora of rotten memories but right now, all I can think of are the funny things. They're probably what's most important anyway. I don't want to carry any of the rot and misery to Castle Grayskull.

I guess the saddest thing was painting over the "measuring pole" in the basement. All the heights of all the people who had been over. That stung a little. I took pictures. My favorite measurement was probably "Sugar w/ hat" which was followed by "Sugar w/ head".

If anyone wants to say goodbye to the house, come by Friday evening and watch us pack 6 years of livin' into a straight truck. Bring snacks.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

You've got something for me.

Last night I thought I was having an anxiety attack. I could feel heat radiating off my body, my mind was racing, and I couldn't breathe. Then I started throwing up uncontrollably and my nose started bleeding. The more I could taste that horror, the more I threw up. And there were other bodily functions but I'm trying to be partially lady like. Now my body feels like it weighs ten tons and every muscle is screaming at me.

It's almost as if I had an anxiety attack and in those 2 minutes that I let my guard down, the flu slithered in. I don't have time to be sick. I have far too many things to do and not enough hours to do them WITHOUT being sick. And I can't afford to be sick. Buying and selling a house cost money...who knew? Every can of paint, all the switchplate covers, the door that needs to be replaced, tons of cleaning supplies...it all adds up. My head is swimming. Todd says, "1 thing at a time".

I need to put my head in the trash can. That's 1 thing.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Happiness hit her like a bullet in the mind.

*I forgot to mention that we got married 10 months ago today. It's hard for me to believe it's been that long yet sometimes, it feels like just yesterday. Either way, I love you, my husband!

I know I've said it before but let me say it again...

If you're going to put "He Can't Love You Like I Love You" on a mix tape then you have NO CHOICE but to also put "Is She Really Going Out With Him?" and "I've Done Everything For You (You've Done Nothing For Me)" on said mix tape. They just go together and you can't tell me otherwise. It's a trifecta!

Thank you paint fumes! Brain = FRIED.

Todd and I were machines this weekend. We kicked ass like ninjas when it came done to readying the Corral to go up for sale. And all the hard work we put in seems to have brought us closer together which is rad. I expected being stuck in the house 24/7 to get to us. Opposite effect. And if we can keep up the momentum and teamwork, we could be done with our "TO DO" list by the end of the weekend.

Still feeling anxiety from time to time. But the more we paint over and box up our lives, the more that house feels less like home. I guess that's a good thing. And it's a good thing that we have Road Rash Bash and an "adults only" Kalahari trip planned for next month because we need a break. I know we went on vacation recently but that wasn't exactly a lounging vacation and when we came back...BANANAS! I almost ripped my toe off and then BOOM, we buy a house in another city.

ARE WE INSANE??? I think the answer is yes but I also think our insanity is what makes me love "us" more and more. I can for sure say I love my weasel more and more because even when I am dripping sweat, have a definite smell, my hair is sticking up in every direction, my clothes are covered in paint and filth, and last night's make-up is pretty much all over face...he's still all hot for me. How gross! And how awesome!

And to my friends...I miss you.  Lots.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

We love ourselves and no one else.

Worth every penny, maybe twice the pennies, and no one can tell me otherwise. She is a performer from head to toe and those 2 hours that she was singing her lungs out were better than any musical I've ever seen. Sets, costume changes, storyline, video...the dancing, the singing, the piano, the theatrics. My mind really was blown.

The only "oh poo" moment? We should've dressed up. Everyone did. We were more of the oddballs for being in street clothes. And if you know me, you know I love a wig. It would've been the perfect opportunity to be bananas.

Getting a tattoo of her horrible face wherever I can fit it. She's my hero. No matter how many times she said "cock" and referenced her mythical weiner while making jerk-off motions. She may not have a weiner but she has balls (you can borrow that, journalists) and the talent to back it up.

But come on Gaga. We know you don't HATE money, no matter how many times you say it. You earned it last night. Left sweat on the stage and (fake) blood on the pavement. I probably could've done without seeing a video of 1 version of you puking on another version of you...but I still enjoyed it.

1. Dance in the Dark
2. Glitter and Grease
3. Just Dance
4. Beautiful Dirty Rich
5. Vanity
6. The Fame
7. Love Game
8. Boys Boys Boys
9. Money Honey
10. Telephone
11. Speechless
12. You and I
13. So Happy I Could Die
14. Monster
15. Teeth
16. Alejandro
17. Pokerface
18. Paparazzi

19. Bad Romance (not as awesome as I had hoped).

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Loving you is cherry pie.


Am I pumped? You bet your assets I am!

Rushing home to change (though I did apply liquid eyeliner this morning to save some time) and then picking up my 14 year old neice, who is cooler than most people I know. We're gonna chow down and then hit the Q and go bananas. I've been eyeballing recent setlists and am super psyched. Though I could do without hearing "Teeth".  There's something about "Take a bite of my bad girl meat" that makes me feel not-so-fresh.

I predict it will be worth the cheddar. I had to make it rain to make this happen. Annnnd...enough with the thug-speak. In the past, I didn't always come through with birthday or Christmas gifts for my neices and nephews and I always felt like a toad. I've been making up for it and I'm fo' sho making up for it tonight. And I'm going to enjoy every nasty second of her shenanigans. Lady Gaga and I could be friends, I have no doubt. And I don't mean that in a stalkerish way.

It couldn't have come at a better time. I need a break.

I'm stretched very thin and a thinly stretched rubber band eventually snaps. I though about soliciting some weekend paitning help via social networking but decided against it. It's no one's job but mine, and I'm drowning in it.  I cooled my jets a little last night with some retail therapy (thanks to scoring more dough than I thought I would at Half Price Books). Top Chef Chicago & Las Vegas, a new pair of pajama pants, and a ring shaped like an owl's head set me right for a minute or two.

I'm counting on Gaga to re-motivate me. If she can't, who can?

Monday, July 12, 2010

Can't help but think of yesterday.

My body aches. I'm exhausted, physically and mentally. I guess this is what "being productive" feels like. Not trying to be clever at all when I say I need a weekend to recover from my weekend. And not being at all sarcastic when I say moving/selling your house is for the birds!

In 18 days, we'll be the eccentric family in the suburban neighborhood full of trees. We got to visit our new digs on Friday for the inspection. I swear it's gotten bigger since we first saw it...and that increased my anxiety a bit. I shouldn't care, but a few people have made comments about the size of the house (based on photos) and us being well-off. Someone even made a comment about how rich people make them sick. It stung.

Let me be CLEAR, not that I should have to explain myself to anyone, but we are NOT well-off and are certainly NOT "rich people".  But the price had been reduced more than once AND we got a deal on top of that since the people were dying to move. It was luck. And the house payment is large so we'll be adjusting to that by really tightening our belts. This is an investment for our future since we don't plan to move again. So I don't think anyone should be making sassy comments. We're busting our asses for this house. Be supportive of our decision or don't say anything at all. Cause shitting on something we're working hard for (and will be for maaaaaaaany years to come) makes you a questionable friend (but a majority of our friends have been pumped for us and that's awesome...everything we have, we'd share with anyone else).

Moving on...

This weekend a plethora of our pals came by to hang out or help out and we appreciated it all! I loved looking out my window and seeing Ben walk up the drive. Having him around all day was a flat out rad. And so many babies were at the Corral! Evan, Rylee, Graeme, and the as-yet-unnamed-and-unborn Baby Bell. There were moments when I was laughing so hard, tears were welling in my eyes and my guts killed. It was great. I love my friends.

Especially Sharon and Joe who spent all of yesterday painting and cleaning while we were weeding and packing. I can't express enough how much I appreciate them and theirs efforts. They never complained once, no matter what we asked of them. I hate asking for help. It makes me feel weasely but we couldn't have possibly gotten as much done as we have without our pals. This all happened really fast and people have rallied. Thanks y'all.

And thanks for your continued help for the next 18 days.

I wish I had something else to blather about besides moving because maybe you're sick of hearing about it. But this is our life at the moment. It's all-consuming. We had to cut down on going out (paint is so expensive) so no PJs, no Rock-n-Bowl, no birthday party for Nolan.  Every red cent of our next 3 paychecks is spent already and that's OK. It is what it is. But I do miss being social which is why I was so pumped to have people randomly stopping by this weekend. It meant a lot.

Going to see Lady Gaga on Wednesday means a lot, too.

AND NOW A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: To all of my friends that are smokers, please, please, please quit. I'm begging you. I heard some news this weekend that broke my heart and I'm still shocked but I'm not going to get into it. Just PLEASE quit. I love all y'all too much to not kick your asses if you don't quit.  xoxo

Thursday, July 08, 2010

Well look at me, I'm a'coming back again.

20 boxes packed and sealed!

I thought packing would be so stressful but it's truly the most stable and calming this in my life right now. I've been uber-stressed this week but once I get my hands on that tape gun... Tonight I'm looking forward to filling more boxes, running them to the temporary storage spot, painting and cleaning. Any of the jitters I had about moving have disappeared into thin air. I'm pumped. Period.

And I love my friends. I love that they'll give up their free time and sanity to help us and will still love us while we're running around like psychotic chickens! Tessa gave up and evening to listen to us bitch about an unfortunate waste-of-life we have to deal with, all while bubble-wrapping anything and everything I had for her. And Joe-n-Sharon are signed up tonight and possibly this weekend to paint my colorful home "Navajo White" to make it "buyer friendly". We're lucky to have people to lean on.

Pretty soon we'll be collapsing on them.

You know, I think I'll paint my art studio at Castle Grayskull hot pink.

In fact, I know I will. Good times are ahead!

Tuesday, July 06, 2010

Climb so we can reach anything we may propose.

As everyone on the planet Earth knows, we are now the proud (and frazzled) owners of Castle Grayskull! Shocking, I know. I found it online last Sunday, we looked at in Wednesday, made an offer on Friday (5:30p), and a counter-offer was accepted (6:30p). I don't even think I've had time for it all to soak in. We immediately began taking down artwork, clearing off shelves, weeding through junk, throwing out trash...it's been non-stop! Our entire lives are in piles on the floor.

But I am feeling very anxious.

I love the Ol' Kentucky Corral. It's going to be hard to say goodbye to it. I've had crazy dreams. I've had mini-panic attacks. I've wondered if we're doing the right thing. But when Todd starts talking about my art studio and his man cave and when I think about having kids there and where we'll be putting out Christmas tree...my mind is eased. I know we're doing the right thing for us, the kid, the future kids, the dogs...we can't live on top of each other anymore. I just don't deal with stress well. It's a fact.

And I need to call in favors, which I hate doing. We need help. We have a whole house to pack up and tons of cleaning to do...nails to pull, holes to patch, walls to wash, floors to scrub. The inspection of our new digs is this week and we get the keys next FRIDAY. It's all happening very fast so I'd be lying if I said we didn't need help. I especially need help painting the kid's bedroom at the new house. It has to get done PRONTO because we have to move his new bedroom set in. I am NOTORIOUS for getting more paint on me than the walls and I'm a better NFL player than I am an edger. So...

...HELP!  We'll take all we can get.

So, a new chapter of our life is starting and a big chapter of my life, at least, is closing. Good times and bad were had at the corral and I wouldn't trade them for the world. I lived with Phoebe, Little Jen, Tommy Roulette. I had cats, dogs and rats. I've had a a plethora of parties from a prom, a pajama party, an Under The Sea shindig, and a slumber party massacre. I've cried myself to sleep and I've laughed myself awake. I packed a lot into 6 years so I'll probably have what people call "emotions" when I leave. But there's so much more ahead of us.


That's worth the mortgage right there.

Thursday, July 01, 2010

I'll be the last one on the dance floor when this party ends.

Yep. It's our dream house.

It's probably a smidge too big for us (we have no use for a formal living room and no one short of that lady with the conveyor vagina and 19 kids needs 3.5 bathrooms) but I can picture us there. And I picture us being really happy there.

I'm trying not to get my hopes up but it's hard when you can picture your own stuff in a house. Like the giant Chung Wah restaurant sign. I already know where that's going. And the "Party Lunch" painting. I think I have a spot picked out. I need to stop doing this. I need to stop picturing myself working in the veggie garden that's ALREADY THERE! I need to stop thinking about turing the basement into Todd's ultimate "man cave". And I REALLY need to stop thinking about the 1st floor bedroom becoming an art studio.

I've crunched so many numbers, my brain aches.

If it happens, it happens. If not, I'm sure there is another house out there that we'll fall in love with. Whether or not I actually MEAN this or am just trying to talk myself into being rational is up for debate.