And Indy Makes Three!

Oh my god, you guys, I finally have a puppy!

Okay, so actually I don't yet... but I'm so much closer!

On Tuesday baby Puppy Indiana was born!  I don't know which one he is yet, but my puppy is alive.  He's full of love and cuddles and little puppy howls and sweetness and puppy kisses.  And I still can't have him for two months.

Which doesn't sound like a super long time but in puppy time that's like a year and a half.

I think if I time it right I can just drive down there and steal him.  They'll never notice right?  HE'S TINY! They'll never miss him.

I'll keep him safe.  I'll teach him to sniff.  (I'm good at sniffing.  I'm not good actually smelling things but I'm an excellent sniffer.  I can't stop sniffing.  Such is the life of someone who is allergic to... well, life.  You get really good at sniffing.)  I'll roll around and play with him and pretend to be a puppy.  Just so long as I get to snuggle with my puppy afterwards.  Puppies like snuggling right?  Snuggling and sniffing and rolling around and playing?  That's pretty just the jist of being a puppy?

I wonder if I can find him a little puppy fedora?

Ohhh, or a little golden idol chew toy.  Maybe there's a set!  Like a little grail too.  (Someone did send me a link to a very disturbing, knit Hitler plushy the other day.  Tremendously unsettling.  Let's just say that Hitler is exceptionally untrustworthy even in knit form.)  Oh I know, the third one could be a little blimp.  That'd be cool.  I can teach him the command "No Ticket" and he'll go get his little blimp and bark three times.  While he's wearing his little hat.  Maybe I can find him a little puppy bomber jacket too.  Goddamn, I want this dog so bad.

Dr. Jones!  (He got his PhD in being a puppy!)

It's All Rainbows and Unicorn Farts Up In Here

There’s this terrific quote from the movie Untamed Heart where Marisa Tomei’s (my husband’s movie wife) character says: “He doesn’t make sense, I don’t make sense, together we make sense.”

This is a story about my friends.  And how we remind me of that quote.  Well, sort of.

A few weeks ago a friend of mine tripped over a dog toy on her steps and broke a toe.  It was a pretty big bummer, as breaking a toe always is.  There’s just really nothing good about breaking a toe.  Except for when hilarity ensues...  

A day or two later I sent an email to her a couple other friends:

“Jesus christ it's cold in here today.  (Insert: it’s always super cold in my office, but it was especially cold that day due to clients being in the conference room so we needed to pump the air conditioning so they wouldn’t melt.  Yeah, our h-vac systems aren’t... the best.)  But there was a rainbow outside my window for a little while.  which made me happy for a little while.  Then it went away so I'm crabby again.”

She then replied:
“In other news, my butt still hurts (from falling down the steps yesterday, gutterminds) but my toe is all swelled up like a snausage and is interesting shades of black and purple. Neat!
Yay, rainbows!”

But see, I’m sort of a dumbass.  Especially in the morning.  So...
“By the time I read this I had forgotten about the actual rainbow, so I thought you were referring to your foot.  So it seemed like your opinion about the swelling and bruising changed drastically and very quickly.  Then I was all ‘no that can't be right...  Well, I know she has no problem with gay people.  though I don't know why she'd feel the need to mention it right now.  and in a really weird way...’  Then I mentally smacked myself in the forehead and said to myself ‘dude! the ACTUAL rainbow you just told them about.  Jeeze.’
So - for the record that's about how well my brain works today.  I'm sorry your butt hurts and your toe's all big and colorful (in a not-flamboyant way)”

And thus from that, somehow, “Yay, rainbows!” became both a personal mantra and a mantra for that group of friends.

(Yay, rainbows!  In this case plastic wrapped rainbows.  I thought it was cool)

Several days later:

Me: “I found some lip balm on etsy this morning called Unicorn Farts.  I’ve decided I'm going to get some.  I just can't decide if I'm just going to get just one for me or if I should get a lot and give them to... pretty much everyone I know.  Because it's lip balm scented like Unicorn Farts.  So it's pretty much the greatest thing ever and how can you not share that?  But on the other hand you could also have a signature unicorn fart scented lip balm that everyone else would be jealous of.  And be all like ‘ohhh, I love your lip balm what is it?’  and you'd be all ‘oh it's no big deal, it's just the smell of unicorn farts.  it's kind of my thing.’  and they would all sit in awe of you and ask to borrow your lip balm all the time.  But really that's just the reaction you'd want from the bitches you don't like, right?  With your friends and loved ones you'd want to be all like ‘ladies, ladies, ladies - I bring the glory of Unicorn Fart lip balm.  Bask in its greatness.’  And they would (continue to) love you forever because you're both awesome and thoughtful and the kind of person who shares cool things like Unicorn Fart lip balm.  Furthermore I can't imagine having this and not at least giving some to my nieces.
Long story short:
1) I finished the Bloggess' book yesterday (not sure if you can tell or not)
2) So next time I see you, I'll have at least one book to give you.  And probably lip balm
3) I really, really like typing/saying Unicorn Fart(s)
4) Christ, I really hope you thought that was funny or you guys are actually going to have me committed this time.  fuck.”

To which Broken Toe* replied:
“Unicorn Farts has officially made me register on Etsy. Dammit...I was avoiding it on purpose (BUY ALL THE THINGS!). I can't avoid this..”

And I said:
“Oh dude, you're toast.  Etsy is like crack for people like us.  Really, really good crack.  Take my advice and don't sign up for the daily email.  It will show you really awesome stuff every day.  and you'll want to buy it.  it's like the free sample the dealer gives you only they give it to you every. single. day.  And unless you just delete it without looking at it... there are just so many cool things.  And they send you pictures of such cool things.  and if you click on those pictures they'll just send you to a page that says ‘oh hey you thought that was cool?  Let us show ALL THESE OTHER TOTALLY COOL THINGS LIKE IT THAT YOU'LL COMPULSIVELY FEEL THE NEED TO BUY NOW BECAUSE WE ARE TOTALLY THE BEST CRACK DEALERS IN TOWN.’  That's Etsy in a nutshell.  I am sorry that Unicorn Farts has brought this upon you.  However you must keep in mind that you got Unicorn Farts out of the deal.  So really... fair's fair.  Unicorn Farts.”

The theme of Etsy as crack continued and... digressed for much of the day and eventually another friend, let’s call him... The Bird** in the conversation (who is busier than the rest of us during the day and only occasionally pops in) said:
“Wait, you guys are drug dealers?  I'm not good at the email thread thing. Meh.”

And I casually explained:
“Well... Rainbow Toe is a dealer.  And Etsy is a master dealer.  And depending on how you feel about Unicorn Farts... I'm looking to get into the game and may start distributing to 8-year-olds...  So yes, you are correct, sir.  Magic Hat*** seems pretty in the clear though.  Though he usually has several deals going down with various people on his team.  Something I can only assume will continue once So-And-So joins.  (Damn hippies and their drugs.)”


Uh, so I don't have a picture of unicorns. Or their farts. Oh wait...

Same thing! Yay, rainbows! And Unicorn farts!

So here’s what I mean:

I’m weird.  They’re weird.  Together we’re... REALLY weird.  It’s FANTASTIC.

There are only a handful of people in the world that I can be absolutely, completely and entirely absurd with.  Most of them are either married to me or very closely related to me (i.e. they were involved in my conception or are my older brother.)  It’s totally insane that I met those three people in one of my least favorite places.  But maybe that makes sense too, because I don’t think they like that place much either.  But the shared experience gave us something to talk about, and to joke about.  And that gave us the opportunity to learn that we’re all pretty damn warped, but in a lot of the same ways.  


Yay, rainbows!


Unicorn farts!

*Probably how I’ll refer to her forever now... can’t say for sure though
**Not his real name
***Ha, finally!  Been working on that one for WEEKS!

Is This Too Sappy?

I feel like it's too sappy.

Happy Valentine's Day :)

An Open Love Letter To My Mommy On Her Birthday

Once upon a time my big brother told me his main goal in life was to be even half as cool as my dad.  This is completely understandable.  My dad is pretty much the coolest person who ever lived.  (Still, this statement made me a little sad since my main goal in life is to be maybe one tenth as cool as my big brother.)  The great tragedy of my dad being the coolest person, living or dead, ever is that we sometimes overlook how completely and totally awesome my mom is.  Where my dad is the mellow that keeps us all truckin' (so to speak) as a family, my mom is... just everything else we need to keep us going along the way.  She is our cruise director, our teacher, our domestic goddess, our moral compass, our cultural attache, our historian, our cheerleader, and our support pillar.

Make no mistake, my dad does all of those things as well.  But I'm confident in saying he will be the first to tell you, my mom is one hell of a lady.  One who deserves any and every nice thing anyone has to say about her.

Let me paint a picture for you.

When I was just weeks old my mom took me to my first political convention.  She put signs up on my play pen and I lobbied for better day care.

There's this totally awesome picture of my brother when he was little.  He's wearing a tee shirt that says "nuclear war would totally ruin my day."

My brother and I used to tease my mom that we were going to buy her a leash for Mother's Day so we could stop her from going to nurseries (the flower kind) all the time.  Related:  my brother and I are kind of buttheads.

Every year on Christmas Eve my family watches Lethal Weapon.  This easily one of the top ten weirdest traditions I've ever heard of, and therefore one of the best.  It exists because of my mom.

I love this:

And these:

This:

This:

And these:

because of my mom.

My mom will never let anyone say anything bad about themselves.  She will encourage you to be the very, absolute best that you can be.  She can bake at least 30 different kinds of cookies, occasionally will encourage you to have ice cream cake for dinner, and makes the best spaghetti ever.  She can sew, quilt, knit, and read (I'm guessing) one thousand words a minute.  She can make homemade Halloween costumes, design a set, manage a stage and play the violin and tympani (though probably not at the same time.)  She loves the Rolling Stones and taught me to love Janis Joplin and the Allman Brothers.  She also taught me to love Tchaikovsky, Handel, and musical theater.

My mom is a tooth and nail feminist who let me love Disney princesses.  She taught me that the princesses weren't just pretty - they are smart, kind, warm, occasionally head-strong, optimistic, and generous.

Last night I happened upon a clip from It Happened One Night.  Netflix failed me as they don't have it on their instant cue.  I decided to watch Arsenic and Old Lace instead.  When I was young, though I don't remember how old I was exactly, my mom took me with her to see a performance of the play.  I think it was at the local college.  Nothing major or anything, but a performance all the same.  But that's my mom, she always wanted to show us something cool.  I can certainly say that without her, I'm sure I wouldn't randomly decide to watch movies like that on Saturday nights.

I love my mommy very much.  And I don't think she gets told enough that she's freaking awesome.  Mom, you're freaking awesome.  Here are some pictures I think you'll like.

And if you do that's bully.  Just bully!  (Happy Birthday)

Avenue Q

Okay... so I can't really promise that this week has been super, fantastic fun.  It has not, in fact, been more fun than a barrel of monkeys.  Well I don't think it was anyway.  I haven't ever experienced a barrel of monkeys, so I don't know maybe it's less fun that people say.  (Speaking of - I sent a news story about an escaped monkey wreaking havoc in a suburb somewhere to a group of some of the people I would classify as most likely to utter "I want a monkey" this week and it was an epic fail.  It was the fail sauce.  It was very sad.)  However, I was instructed by my father to have a better week this week.  I do try to make my daddy proud whenever possible so here I am, if nothing else, having a better week than last week.

One of my co-workers walked up to my desk on Monday morning and said "is it going to be a better week for Caitlyn?"  I responded by saying "Well, it kind of has to be or I'm toast."

For one thing - my alarm clock has not had to go off at 4:30 am at any point this week.  That has to make a week better right?  Right.  So to make this as much the antithesis of my last post as possible (because apparently lists of things that suck offend my mom and I try to make her proud too - hi, Mom!) here is a list of things that are pretty cool.

q)  I'm starting my lists with point q now.  It's pretty cool.  I'm not telling you why.  But I know someone just laughed out loud at me.  So there.

2) I get to wear jeans to work tomorrow.  My life has sadly gotten to a point where that is pretty cool if you're me.

3)  I made some pretty awesome gnocchi for dinner tonight.  It tasted gooooood.

4)  I exercised twice this week after being lazy for, like three weeks strait.  It's pretty cool but, oh my gosh, my body hurts.

5)  Laughing out load at your personal email at work - because you know some awesome, hilarious people who send you email. 

6)  Finding news stories about monkeys.  Even if I know a bunch of people who don't appreciate them.  (I'm looking at you, Josh.  Okay I'm not.  I'm looking at my laptop.  Which is nowhere near you and I'm not even sure if it's pointing in your general direction.  Still.)

7)  I've gotten no fewer than three separate and independent compliments on my shoes this week.  Two of which were from fully grown men who, by all accounts, have never noticed that people wear shoes, let alone badass shoes.  (Yes I was told I was wearing some badass shoes yesterday.  It was awesome.)

8)  I totally complimented my boss yesterday because I told her about this really bad dream I had on Tuesday where she quit her job and life at work just spiraled into this just terrible place to be and everyone was acting crazy - even the people who normally act mostly sane.

9)  Bubble Tea.  A large, cold, black tea with passion fruit and raspberry and pearls.  Oh my god that was fantastic.  I'm actually hoping that I dream about it tonight.  That's how good it was.

10)  Joe Mauer got his 1,000th hit on Tuesday.  Super Awesome.

11)  It's officially fall in Minnesota and I get to wear scarves without looking ridiculous again.  Fantastico.  (That is not a word, but I bet you know what I mean.)

12) I'm knitting myself a new scarf with some just stunning yarn.  I plan to take some pictures and throw them up here, so I'm not going to say too much more about it.  But I think I might be in love with some yarn.  I have a feeling this will be a complicated relationship.

 Right so this is where the antithesis thing ends.  Because last time I had a list of things that suck and pictures of things that don't.  I'm going to stick with the pictures of things that don't suck.  Because I don't like to take pictures of things that suck.  And I generally think things that suck are situations, which are tough to capture on film without people noticing.

So here are some more lamps that I shot while I was out on my walk a few weeks ago.  (I'm not even going to tell you about the typo I just fixed.  I need to talk about these photos and go to bed.)

These first two were flanking the doors to an Episcopalian church near Grand Avenue.  There was tons of carving and intricacy around the door and all along the facade so I really like the relative simplicity of these.

I especially liked this shot with orangey-yellow stonework behind it.

This set was on either side of the doors of a Lutheran church on Dale Avenue just south of I94.  I want to say it's Grace Lutheran church, but I might be making that up.  You know, it's not like I drive past it every day on my way home or anything.

These, conversely were very intricate - Particularly at their tops on what was really a fairly simple facade.  This second one was more weathered than the first and, though one of the glass panes is broken, was really, really cool looking.

I almost didn't include this one.  It's a pretty standard lamp and all that.  But the shadow convinced me.  (The Shadow knows!)  I love how you can see the shadow of that swirled part of the lamp that you can't see on the lamp itself from this angle. 

I loved, loved, LOVED the glass in this lamp.  The structure itself is cool too, but that glass just makes it.  That is just so cool.

Okay - no births to announce today and, as mentioned, this kid needs to get to bed in a big old way.  So I'm off.  I only have one more thing to add to my list of things that are pretty cool.
r) (still not telling) Earlier this week a guy at work was trying to describe how one of my co-workers and I are pretty good friends.  He expressed this by saying "you know, you two are downtown Julie Browns and all."  Yep.  Downtown Julie Brown.  That's me.

Pygmalion

I don't know if I've made this abundantly clear (it's hard when you're frequently gushing about how pretty flowers are and stuff) but I'm not very good at being a lady.  By that I mean polished and proper are not adjectives frequently found near my name.  I don't gussy very well.  I like clothes, very much.  I LOVES me some shoes, especially in the high-heeled variety and nail polish is a good friend of mine.  But my hair does exactly two styles when I'm in charge of it - air-dried and ponytail.  Though I like makeup I don't know how to use it very well and usually forget things like lipstick until I'm well out of the house.  I like dresses and skirts pretty well, but I veer more toward simple, clean lines than frilly and poofy.  Bows make me nervous.  On any day, at any given time, you are around 304 times more likely to find me in green, blue or gray than pink or purple.

This is all a very long-winded (sorry 'bout that) way of saying, I'm not very girly.

I'm bad at being a girl.

Whoops.

So anyway, this post is kind of about that, but not really.

A week after Steve and I got back from vacation (you know?  The one when we got engaged?) Steve's mom threw us an engagement party.  Now that is a lady who knows how to throw a party and make it look coordinated and elegant and lovely (also adjectives that are not commonly found near me.)  It was a beautiful party and a lot of fun.

And in the week leading up to it I kept thinking about my closet and ending on something like this: “ummm, I think I have an issue.”  See I have dresses that are appropriate for work and dresses that are appropriate for a wedding.  I have two prom dresses in my closet and a dress that I wore to a homecoming dance when I was a sophomore in high school (yeah....).  I have dresses that are appropriate to wear to the beach and dresses that really aren’t appropriate to wear anywhere at all.  Not a lot that says “I’m a lady, I’m an adult, it should make sense to you that I am engaged, I look like I belong at a garden/cocktail party.”  See there’s a little bit of this whole engagement thing that’s throwing me for loop.  Essentially that I think you kind of need to be a grown up to be engaged.  I’m no grown up.  I’m a very old teenager who’s just pretending to be a grown up because there are cooler shoes involved.

Here I’ll put it to you in math form (because everybody likes math, right?):

Classy /= Me.  Me = Klassy.  (See, math is fun!)

Sooo I bought a new dress.  I went out on my lunch break one day (there are advantages to working about 10 minutes away from one of the largest malls in the world – they are identical to the disadvantages, but still) and found almost exactly what I was looking for (and on sale!).  Thusly armed with a dress I felt would help me pretend to be lady for the day I really threw myself into the gussying process.  Makeup, grooming, etc.  I even, at that point, decided to just go ahead and rock the pearls with the ensemble because really, at that point, why not?

Oh hey, look at me.  I’ve been babbling for quite some time on this here “photo blog” with very little photographic evidence of anything.  The fully gussied Cait:

Steve clearly did whatever the man equivalent of gussying is.  What can I say?  The man can rock a vest like nobody's business.


I got so into this whole girly thing that I both blow-dried my hair and attempted a third hairstyle.  (Not a particularly hard style, but believe me there are points for effort in this arena.)  The party finally got started and I stopped stressing so much about the whole ladylike thing.  Steve and I returned (with 80% less crazy-eyes!) to our post-engagement googly-eyedness.

We had a lovely time.  The dress was a big hit – lots of compliments; which made me believe I was pulling off the ladylike look fairly well.  Which was reassuring and calming.  And embarrassing, but that’s a whole different psychosis I’ll bore you with another time. 

I spent much more of my time than normal (that is to say, any time at all) considering whether to cross my legs at the knee or the ankle; that was a little weird.  Especially because throughout the day I kept basing my opinion on Julie Andrews’ advice in the movie The Princess Diaries.  Though a few times ended up going with no cross at all.  Damn.

We got some other folks to share in our smileyness too.  Like Steve’s godparents:

And his grandparents:

Isn’t his grandpa the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?  I love my grandpa to death and he’s quite the dapper man himself, but ever since the first time I met Steve’s grandpa I’ve been completely enamored by how completely adorable he is.

Our lovely hosts:

Many other people joined us for a little celebration.  Our friend Lyle even did his very best impression of American Gothic for every picture he was involved with. 

Though this may or may not have been intentional, I like to believe it was his tribute to my path of study and fully expect his impression of this next time:

(That was a little art history humor.  I’ll stop, I promise.)

It was really fun to celebrate with everyone and it was this really warm, loving atmosphere.

Oh yeah, did I mention the food?

Oh my God it was good.  Like I said, the lady knows how to throw a party and she sure knows how to put out a spread.

That reminds me – here’s a picture of what Steve and I look like when we smile with our mouths full.

Proper!

There was champagne too!  (every time I think, say or type the word champagne I hear Zapp Brannigan in my head – “Sham-peg-en” – classic.)  Yes, I did photoshop that to make it look all weird; I like it that way.

And holy crap this cake was good.

No seriously.  It was not as good as it looks.  It was better.  (Wow, that was terrible.  Maybe I should go back to art history humor.  That was at least clever.)

See how that frosting looks both amazing and like marshmallow fluff?  Tasted that way too – marshmallowy and amazing.

Mmmmm, strawberries.

Don’t those just look good enough to… wait… that doesn’t work as well when you’re talking about food.  It better look good enough to eat.  How about this?  Don’t those look incredibly awesome?  Yes.  Yes they do.

I slipped once or twice in my ladylike veneer throughout the day but I’m pretty sure the only person around for them was Steve.  He’s pretty used to me being unladylike at this point, and he apparently wants to marry me anyway, so I guess that’s okay.  Someday I’ll pull off the lady thing for a full twelve hours or something and he’ll spend the rest of the week completely shocked.  That’ll be fun.

It was a great day and will be a precious memory for me for a very long time to come.  It was fun to dress up and be like Eliza at the races for a day (only without the totally awesome hat).  And I got rewarded with beer afterward.  Thank you to everyone who came, everyone who was there in spirit, and all our well wishers.

Now I’m going to go put on some sweatpants.

You Talkin' To Me?

So.... yeah.  Good vacation.

That is to say, GOOD VACATION.

Okay I guess it was more like BEST. VACATION. EVER.

Why you ask?  Well... let's see... ummm.... Oh yeah, THIS HAPPENED!!!!!!

Um yeah.  I got engaged.  I'M ENGAGED!  I'm sorry I just really, really like saying that.  Even typing that is really fun.  Engaged, engaged, engaged, ENGAGED!  Me!  Woo!  (that was all in a very sing-songy voice in my head, by the way.)

So here's the story... 

We were up at the lake with my family.  My mom's family has been going to the same resort (and by resort I mean, like 12 cabins on a lake, not a spa resort or something) for, like, 60 years.  I've gone for a week every summer since I was, well, I guess about a 2 month developed fetus in my mama's belly.  I've never missed a summer.  I've even thrown in a few MEA weekends and Labor Days.  It's my favorite place ever.  When I was 17 and went to France for two weeks I came back and told my parents I just wanted to buy Paris and just have it, like, as my house.  The Lake still wins.  The Lake > Paris, okay?

Another bit of back story:  For Mother's Day Steve's mom asked for a picture of the two of us.  While looking through our photos we found we hadn't really taken a nice photo together for about a year.  So we've been trying to take more pictures when we actually do things.  

So we wanted to take a couple nice pictures together while we were at the lake.  And weeks ago Steve started saying things like "well, I think I'm going to take one of my nice shirts, maybe you could take a sundress or something and we can take our Christmas card photo" and so on.  All of this seemed more or less reasonable.  Perhaps a little overly concerned about a picture... but sometimes it seems like Steve just forgets he's already told me something so he tells me a whole bunch of times.  Regardless, I did not think much about it at all.  So on our third day there it was nice out and Steve said "let's take the boat out later, take a nice picture with the sunset."  Seemed like a good enough idea to me.  Steve got my aunt and my brother involved in convincing my nieces that ice cream would be better than a sunset cruise.  (They were sold before my brother finished saying the word "cream.")

We got out on the lake, found a pretty spot and with a nice view...

I think it's a pretty nice view anyway.  I might be biased, but I don't really care.

Steve set up the camera on the tripod and (sneaky guy) actually put it on video (later he told me he actually didn't even know how to set the timer and the fact that he didn't ask me probably should have clued me in.)  He came back over to where I was and I started preparing for the photo and he said "well I have to get down on one knee for this one."

Ever the elegant, loquacious, lady; I replied, "What?"

He proceeded to get down on one knee and say some really very romantic things that I'm not going to share with the whole world.

My next comment - again because I am such a wordsmith - was "Are you kidding?"

I remember now having the little thought in my head "If he's messing with me, I'm going to punch him.  He's going over the side of the boat and I'm driving away without him.  This is not funny."

Reasonable assured that he was not, in fact, kidding (this had much to do with the AMAZING ring I now had possession of) I kissed him, told him I loved him, I think I officially said yes at some point, and started grinning like a crazy person that really didn't end for a long time.

After we came back in off the lake my aunt (Steve's co-conspirator) had prepared a little party for us with champagne and cheesecake and lots and lots of hugs, and explaining to a six-year-old the difference between a fiance and Beyonce, and oh my god my face hurt from smiling and I so didn't care at all.

Oh yeah, there was some kissing too.

We proceeded back to the cabin Steve and I share with my parents, there was more Champagne, I got to look at a whole booklet of stuff dedicated to my ring, more face-splitting smiles (seriously I look like a crazy person in most of the pictures.  I bring new meaning to "crazy-eyes."  Okay, not new meaning but... more... well I think I bring more crazy to "crazy-eyes.") and so on and so forth.  

At some point, thankfully, the sides of my mouth stopped trying to wrap around my ears and we calmed back into our general, all-around cuteness.

Almost entirely crazy-eye free!

I'd love to tell you that it's been that since then.  But we're back in the real world now.  I spent most of my first day back at work just reading my email.  Oh and let's see, on Sunday my brother and my nieces went home (which was expected and normal but it still blows) and both of my parents left for their new home in Dallas.  Sunday was not a good day.  Oh yeah and we have like 50 loads of laundry to do (because when you come within 20 miles of the lake makes all the clothes and towels and any other cloth-like material you may have with you immediately becomes filthy, it's one of the many charms of the lake) and still have to unpack about 5 boxes.  Joy.  Pure Joy.

Oh yeah and I have to get up in like 7 hours to go to work again.  Peace out.

And Many More...

Today is my brother's birthday. My brother's about the coolest guy I know and I'm spending much of my day today hoping he has a good birthday and a really, really good year. My brother needs a good year, so I have my fingers crossed for him. I sincerely doubt he reads this but if he is: I love ya, big brother. Have a good one. And here's hoping that one lasts a long time.

So I was looking around the house today for something that might be slightly related to birthdays. What did I come up with? Candles! I got these at Target last year and I think they're the coolest. They look like logs on the outside, only glittery. I love the contrast of the gold with the darker brown/bronze and the way they catch the light.