My own ghost adventure

I can't be sure, but I think I might be haunted.

The other night, sometime after 12am, I woke up to Dave kneeling at the end of the bed. One of the dogs was down there, so I assumed that he was probably moving her or something of that nature. (She tends to take over his side quite a bit.)

I felt the end of the bed moving as if Dave were fidgeting down there FOR NO REASON. I dislike being woken up, so I figured I'd squint open my eyes and give an exasperated sigh that meant, "Stop whatever the hell you're doing and go to sleep."

I opened my eyes and saw his outline -- his hair looked messy and he was facing me -- and even though he couldn't really see me in the dark, I rolled my eyes. Then I did my sigh and flopped over on my side, facing his part of the bed.

And that's when I noticed Dave sleeping peacefully right fucking next to me.

WHO THE HELL WAS ON MY BED?

The foster dog does not have a human face with messy boy hair, so it wasn't her. How freaky is that?

Even more freaky when I remember two nights earlier when I felt Dave touch my stomach while I was half-asleep. I peeked open to see him and, once again, he was passed out next to me. I brushed it off thinking that it must have been one of the dogs (their paws turn into human hands at night, right?) and went back to sleep.

But now?

I don't know.

I'm gonna have to call Zak Bagans to investigate.

Help

I need your help, friends. Help with the following:

1. What eyeliner do you use?
I use a Revlon eye pencil or something and that shit smudges within 10 minutes of putting it on.

2. What book did you just read and can't stop recommending?
I'm a fan of mysteries, thrillers and anything that could be a Law & Order episode, but I'm open to all kinds of genres.

3. Do you have a favorite self tanner?
Never used one, don't want to be streaky. Or an Oompa. So, I'd need something idiot-proof.

Okay... GO.

It's the little things

Currently finding happiness in:

• My dog wanting so many cuddles that he interrupts my pilates by sitting ON TOP of me -- ab workout be damned.
• Cleveland vacation plans that include manis, pedis, massages and booze with my sister-in-law and mother-in-law.
• Parking in the lot at work -- not way down the street -- while most people are on hiatus.
• The anticipation of spring and warmer weather.
• Those mini wine bottles that allow us to get buzzed without wasting an ounce of Pinot.
• My freelancing pay raise.
• Hulu episodes of Pretty Little Liars.
• Playing Call of Duty with Ben and the boys (they're so good, even my shittiness can't make us lose).
• Searching Craigslist for outrageous apartments out of my price range.

Obligatory resolution post

I never make New Year's resolutions because I know myself and I know I won't keep them. Sure, we're all bright-eyed and optimistic in January, but once our routines settle back in and the relentless winter chill crushes our souls, well, "turning over a new leaf" just doesn't have priority anymore.

That's why the best resolutions are simple and the best expectations are low. Here's what I'm going with for 2011:

Get back in shape.
Duh. We all say it. But here's my plan to make it happen:

• Limit the after-work beer drinking to once a week. Well, maybe twice is okay.
  
• Drink more water instead of waddling over to the vending machine, post-lunch.
• Actually use the damn recumbent bike I bought. Let's shoot for 3 times a week.
  
• Do pilates again 3 times a week.
  

We'll see how long this holds and if my vanity is enough of a motivator to keep me from the booze.

Read more books.
With a new iPad, a Kindle account and a love for Tess Gerritsen, I'm already halfway through one of her most popular books (The Bone Garden). So, basically, I'll finish it in January and I will have already accomplished this resolution, since the number of books I read last year hovered around, um, zero. SUCCESS.

Stop being (as much of) a mean girl.
When you're 20, you can get away with being a little snippy, sarcastic and blunt because you're cute and everyone just calls you "sassy." But when you're almost 30, it reeks of insecurity. Sooo, I'm going to try to scale back the judgments, pop my anti-crazy pills and settle for an eye roll rather than an obnoxious tirade. Unless, of course, someone fucks with my dog. Then I will just shank you.

Stop being scared of the kitchen.
After setting myself on fire, my time in the kitchen has been... limited. Eh, who are we kidding? It was limited before that incident too. But, with my job ending around May and my plans to take time off, I'm going to tip-toe back into the world of recipes and ovens. Specifically, I want to make a kick-ass pasta sauce. In a home with two Italians and a family tree whose recent roots are grounded in Torino, it's downright embarrassing that our sauce comes from a jar.

Foster a dog... or six.
After adopting Rocco through One Tail at a Time, donating dog food and money to the group, and attending every event they hold, I really, really want to become a foster mom for OTAT. They're a shelterless rescue, so they can only take in dogs when they have foster homes lined up. Breaks my heart to hear about the dogs -- esp pit bulls -- that will be put down unless a foster home surfaces. We'll just have to see if Roc can handle it without pissing all over my apartment.

I think that's ambitious enough. If you have any tips, tricks or secrets for how to actually stick with these things, let me know. Otherwise, have a safe and happy New Year and drink your face off before the January 1 cleansing phase begins. Cheers!

Goodbye, Big Green Monster

Some people find car shopping fun. Others find it painful. I went car shopping for the first time ever last weekend and, since I'm SO not at the negotiation stage yet, I found it pretty darn delightful.

Since The Big Green Monster is on its last leg (poor thing), we're thinking we might buy a car in the next month.

*cue panic attack*

But, despite being terrified of doing such a Big Girl thing without my dad by my side, we marched forward... right into the 4 dealerships in the city.


1. BMW

Our first stop was the BMW dealership to look at some used 3-series. And that's when we met the craziest man in the world.

I swear, he was like some sort of coked-out, ADHD ball of offensiveness. He asked us tons of questions to figure out our finances ("What do you two do?" "I'm a writer, he's a student." Translation: We will not be paying you 50k for a car.), said that some things were "gay" ("But it's okay because I don't mean it in a bad way.") and kept telling us that "it's all about me," meaning him. Seriously felt accosted.

When we finally got to look at the cars, I was hugely disappointed by the back seat. I mean, I barely fit back there and I'm all of 5 feet. How am I supposed to cart around my fam when they visit without their chins resting on their knees? I walked out of there unimpressed.


2. Honda

After looking online at some 2009-2010 Accords, I had convinced myself I wanted one... but a trip to the dealer made me do a 180.

First of all, when we walked in, we were completely ignored by all salespeople. Not the best way to win business, but whatevs. We wandered over to a 2010 Accord and poked around ourselves. Again, not too thrilled. The car itself was much, much bigger than I thought it would be and the console was fug. Dave and I exchanged glances and walked out of there as quickly as we'd walked in.


3. Audi

I know nothing about these cars, but we figured a used A4 would be just the right size for us. (I'm starting to feel like Goldilocks.) We didn't look at any used A4s in our price range, but based on the 2010, we're intrigued enough to explore some older models. I guess. I really don't care about Audis too much because....


4. Volkswagen

....I am totally in love with a Volkswagen.

I know, right!? VW has never been on my radar. Jettas and Passats always looked like bubbly sorority-girl cars to me and don't have Honda's reputation for reliability or BMW's reputation for fanciness.

But.

I neeeeeed a 2011 Jetta.

First off, they added 3 inches of legroom to the back seat this year, so it's much bigger than the BMW. Second, a brand new, fully loaded Jetta is about the same price as a standard 2008 BMW (and, I'm guessing, an Audi). Third, have you seen how sleek it is?


Gimme.

Technically, there are a few more cars on our list that we told ourselves we'd look at (Mazda 3 and Mazda 6 are the only others I'd spend the time looking at, but the Mazda dealership is wayyy out in the burbs). But I feel like we've already found our car.

I never thought I'd get a new car because who DOES that when you could get a 1-year-old car for much cheaper? But, like I said, there are major improvements with the 2011 Jetta and I can't wait to test drive it.

Which I'm doing in an hour...

Here's hoping she doesn't let me down.


*UPDATE*
Um, I bought the Jetta.

Daytime TV

I've written about the travesty that is daytime TV before. But when you're working your butt off and just want something on in the background, it's actually better that you're not totally into the crappy shows. At least, this is what I've discovered while working here, where we have TVs at our desks.




So, depending on what's doing on, here's what I may watch at any given point in the day:

9am-10am
Watch O or taping.

10am-11am
The View, even though I can't stand that Hasselback.

11am-12pm
Wendy Willlllllliams. How you derrring?

12pm-1pm
Deal or No Deal. Should be called Dealer or No Dealer because, seriously, most of those people are on DRUGS.

1pm-2pm
Afternoon taping or Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. I'm convinced that this will serve me well next time I do trivia.

2pm-3pm
You ARE NOT the father.

3pm-4pm
Ellen, because she's darling.

4pm-4:30pm
Extra, because I'm lame.

4:30-5:30
Friends, back to back.

5:30-6:00
The Office, back when it was good.

6:00-6:30
Seinfeld, while I wrap up my day.


Lately, however, I've actually gravitated towards my dear Hulu and started getting into some new shows. The latest series I'm into? Fringe. I've been watching Season 1 the last few weeks, mostly because I have a crush on Mark Valley for no real reason. Let's take a moment:



Look at that smirk! Did you know he's married to his co-star on Fringe, the blonde chick? Yet another travesty.

Moving on.

Anyway. Fringe. It's weird and creepy, but still a step above Maury, even with it's gruesome monsters and reality-suspending plots. Actually, maybe it's just like Maury...

Or, maybe it's time for me to get back to work. After all, Wendy Williams is almost on.

Life lessons

This may shock you, but I make a fair amount of mistakes. Just... ya know... in life.

Of course, we all learn from our mistakes and blah blah blah, so that's good, I guess. But what's even better is that I'm sharing what I've learned from my mishaps so you don't end up in the same shit situations I've been in. Hooray!


Renting a car

• Inspect the car all the way around as soon as you get it! Otherwise, the unsavory rental jerks will give you an Infiniti with a scratched bumper and try to pin it on you when you get back. I'M NOT PAYING YOU SHIT.
  

Cooking dinner

• NEVER stand over a gas stove while wearing a dress
• Never put your spices above your stove
• When in doubt, add garlic. And cheese.
  

Preparing a resume

• Every time you do something badass at your current job, write it down. Write down numbers, money you brought in, site traffic you drove, etc. This will help tremendously in case you get shit-canned unexpectedly and need a new gig.
  

Planning a wedding

• Drink a lot of wine
• Don't try to please everyone
• Chill the fuck out; it's one day
  
• Read all of these tips that no one tells you

Working with an (or multiple) idiots

• Drink a lot of wine
• Don't try to please everyone
• Chill the fuck out; it's just a job
  

Getting a puppy

• If it doesn't feel right, don't get the dog. Don't. Dave and I did this once 4 years ago (long story) and it didn't end well.
  
• Consider adoption. I said I'd never adopt because I wouldn't know the dog's background and I wanted to raise a puppy from the beginning. But, I quickly realized adoption allows you to bypass the (literally) shitty puppy issues, spend far less money and save a life in the process.
  

Helping a friend

• When your clumsy friend/boss takes a spill on a busy sidewalk, don't make a big deal out of it. Just pick her up, brush her off and keep on going with hardly a break in the conversation. She'll thank you.

Freelance writing

• Subscribe to Freelance Daily
• Build your own website to house your portfolio
• Steer clear of bidding sites like Elance, where your rates are more important than quality work
• Don't suck at writing
  

Sewing

• Get cheap, cute fabric from Fabric.com
• Always, always, always order a swatch first, otherwise you might be stuck with 15 yards of pea-green drapes that you've stuffed into the corner of your dining room
  
• Make your own Roman shades with these instructions
• Be friends with Suzanne

Moving

• Pay movers. Seriously, it's worth it. (If you're in Chicago, we loved, loved, loved Movetastic.)
• Do not pack boxes when you're drunk
• Do not move to an apartment with a Whole Foods in the building unless you want to flirt with being broke and fat
  

That's all I've got.

Tag, I'm it

Shellbell tagged me for this "what's in your purse" thing, so here's a bunch of trash I'm carting around today.

• Massive white Kate Spade wallet I bought on eBay forever ago
• Meds that help keep me from flipping out on Dave
• Tampons, even though I'm not on my period
• Clear top coat of nail polish from OPI
• Charger for my iPhone, since it's always, always dead
• Sunglasses
• Flimsy umbrella from H&M (under the sunglasses)
• A bar receipt from my STL trip last weekend
• COLD MEDS because I'm in my own private hell right now
• A tea bag I'm planning to use this afternoon (see above)
  
• Hand sanitizer that smells amazing
• Two peppermints from god-knows-where
  
• A lonely green car key to The Big Green Monster
• The rest of my keys, who want nothing to do with the car key
  
• My abused checkbook

Okay, okay, looks like my purse could use a little cleaning out every once in a while. This is pretty standard for me though. I'm not known as the world's neatest person...

Sooo, do you carry around as much shit as I do? (Say yes.)

The Big Green Monster

I probably should have never taunted the car gods.

After posting about my mom's shit car, a healthy dose of karma decided to swing back my way and send me into a frenzied tailspin over my own shit car.

You see, I own a 1996 Honda Passport. It is, for all intents and purposes, The Big Green Monster. And I adore it.


I have a sunroof, tinted windows, a chrome bumper, a towing hitch... If I were some sort of hybrid gangster/redneck, this would be THE car to own. But still, it's my baby. My mom and I bought it all by ourselves on one hazy afternoon in Memphis sometime in 2002. It's been unbelievably good to me for years and years, and my parents have dumped a lot of money into this beast to keep it alive.

But, apparently, one bitchy post about crappy cars can undo 8 years of maintenance.

As I was driving my brother back to his apartment this weekend (because I'm basically the nicest sister ever), I pushed the accelerator and IT GOT STUCK! It's Toyota's Antichrist!

Like I tend to do when my life flashes before my eyes, I. Freaked. Out. My heart started pounding and I started shaking a bit. Thankfully, the brakes worked just fine... but every time I needed to accelerate, the accelerator would stick. Let's just say it was the worst drive home I've ever had since the steering wheel of my 1988 Mitsubishi Galant locked up. (Yeah, I have a great track record with busted-ass vehicles.)

So, Dave and I had to have The Conversation about our options. At what point do we let the car go? How long should we wait to get another car? My god, can we even afford to buy another car? What should we get? Would leasing be better than buying right now?

Too many questions! All we decided on was that we'd take the car in to get fixed, but if it cost anything more than a few hundred dollars, it would be time to kiss the Passport goodbye and figure out our next move.

While the car was at the shop, I spent a little time on the Interwebs daydreaming about cars I may or may not be able to buy. I even joked that my mom could give us HER shit car when she gets a new one, but then I remembered how much I fucking hate minivans. Gew.

Sooo, while I was busy getting ahead of myself, the mechanics were busy fixing The Big Green Monster. They were able to patch up the nasty accelerator problem, but when they went to change the oil, we ran into a new set of issues.

It appears that one of my gaskets is leaking oil while the other is "literally pouring oil out."

Lovely.

So, since fixing that shit would cost more than half the value of the car, we decided not to mess with it. This means that our driving is limited to about 30 miles at a time and that we'll have to keep loading the car up with oil just about every second.

And now, instead of taunting the car gods, I am praying to them. Praying that the Monster will suffer a slow, slow death so we can continue driving it. Praying that a truck delivering oil breaks down in front of my house so I can raid it like one of the 14-year-old neighborhood gang members. Praying that we can soon afford a "new" car so we can stop pouring time, money, energy and worry into this one.

In the meantime, can I have a ride to No More Bullshit Land, please?

Things I've wanted to tell people on Facebook

• You picked the stupidest name for your baby.

• LEARN HOW TO SPELL.

• I know you want us to take you seriously in that big-girl business suit, but your completely unnecessary cleavage is demanding otherwise.

• Enough with the Jesus talk. It's seriously freaking me out.

• I know you're engaged and I hate to break this to you, but you are (and have always been) a lesbian. Please, stop fighting it and just be yourself. The charade is killing me.

• Remember how we used to be good friends until my wedding happened and you got bent out of shape about things? Well, are you over it yet so we can go back to normal?

• Aren't you too old to be posting on Facebook as often as you do?

• It's not 1994 anymore. You can throw away the puka shells.

• Hey, way to be a completely stereotypical caricature of your political party.
  

Things I do not care about

• Basketball that doesn't involve LeBron James
• Hipster boys in skinny jeans
• The New Orleans Saints
• Gin
  
• Farmville
• Horses
• Snuggies
• Kiera Knightly
• Techno music
• True Blood
• Michigan Ave.
• Anything Sarah Palin says
• Bacon
  
• The South
• As the World Turns, even though my DVR insists on recording it
• Fedoras
• Looking cute when it's cold outside
  

Things to look forward to

• Babies and bubbles! (Tomorrow)

• Dinner at Mana. (Soon, because I'm craving it)

• College Roommate's second baby. (February)

• Much-needed haircut (Thinking I'll cave before March)

• Warmer weather. (Uh, May?)

• Beach vacation with both families and lots of booze. (July)

• Dave's graduation and our celebratory trip to Paris. (2011...)

Good riddance

Photo: Optical Illusion

It's finally 2010.

I say "finally" because 2009 brought a whole lot of suck with it.

Let's recap, shall we?

The Bullshit of 2009

• My family dog died.
• My good friend passed away.
• I got laid off.
• My sister relapsed.

Before I tell 2009 to fuck off though, I stop being such a downer and bring your (my) attention to the good things that happened that year.

The Highlights of 2009

• I got laid off.
• My friends had adorable babies.
• I moved to a bigger, cheaper apartment.
• I celebrated 5 years of dating and 1 year of marriage with Dave.
  
• I adopted the best dog in the world.

Eh, that's life. A little crap, a little love. Here's to hoping 2010 brings more of the latter.

Catch-up

Here's what you've missed... (and by that, I mean what I haven't told you because I suck at blogging.)


Birthday fun.
Dave organized a big birthday bash for me, filled with great friends, wine, Italian food, Sambuca and a creepy Santa. A group of 15 of us ate and drank a LOT, and even convinced a bartender to play one of my playlists at the bar. Then, the whole bar sang "Happy Birthday" to me sometime after midnight. Pretty sure I was lifted in the air at some point.

Sambuca

Treatment for sis.
My sister entered a facility for about a week to go through some intensive therapy with other addicts. She got out right before Christmas and is now doing intensive outpatient treatment for a bit. She's also attending NA meetings again, getting her resume together (with my help) and getting her shit together. Again. Fingers crossed.

Home for the holidays.
Two families means two Christmases. First stop was Cleveland where we met my SIL's adorable, SUPER sweet new pup, bonded with the niece and nephew, and found ourselves smack dab in the middle of some good ol' fashioned family drama. Next up, Memphis -- land of pit bull cuddles, deep-fried turkey, too much drinking and family time.

MINK.
My Drunk Grandma has a fur coat that makes her look like a rapper from the '90s and she wears it in public every chance she gets. Going to the theater? Mink. Movies? Mink. Grocery store? Mink. It's wide and gaudy; completely ridiculous. I call it a mink coat, but I've been corrected that it's actually fox fur. (Her mink is full-length; the one she wore during Christmas was shorter and that one's the fox.) Oh yeah. There are two.

20sb nominee.
Dave got nominated for best tumblog! A few of us definitely threw his name in the ring without him knowing, so I think it was a pleasant surprise. Anyway, if you like his shit, you can vote for him here (along with your other favorite kiddos, of course).

Fantasy football domination.
I'm currently in the playoffs, leading my whole league in pure awesomeness. I might even win this whole thing. Whodathunkit?

NYE plans.
This year, we're not going out, getting dolled up or spending too much money. We've done all that before and while it can be fun, it can also be a pain in the ass. So we're going much more low-key to ring in 2010. We're having some fabulous people over, we'll have some delicious appetizers and we'll drink ourselves silly right here in my apartment.

The new baby!
And here's the big announcement I've been dying to reveal: Dave and I adopted a pup on Monday!! We're now the proud parents of a 10-month old pit that we named Rocco.


He's amazing. He's already housebroken and crate-trained, so the only thing I really have to work on with him is "drop it." At his foster mom's, he slept in her bed, but we put him in his crate last night and didn't hear a peep. He cuddles like CRAZY, entertains himself with toys and doesn't bark. He absolutely adores people and he seems to like other dogs too, which is good because there will be both at the NYE party. I'll say it: I am in love.

College football = no thanks

Photo: SD Dirk

I really hate college football.

We didn't have football at my school (we were too busy ignoring the basketball and soccer teams), so I admit that I've never been caught up in the whole OMG IT'S GAME DAY SO IT'S TIME FOR KEGS AND EGGS AND PUT ON YOUR JERSEY BECAUSE WE'RE ALL SO FUCKING EXCITED ABOUT SPORTS AND ISN'T OUR SCHOOL JUST THE BEST!!?!

My problem with college football isn't that these schools funnel money into sports over academics or that it allows 18-year-old children to get puffed-up egos. My real problem is that these players suck.

Fumbling the ball, missing easy field goals, falling over their own two feet -- it's a painful amateur hour. Look, if you're not gonna be allowed to stay in college because of good grades, you damn well better be able to catch a ball.

This is why I prefer professional football. They don't make those kinds of mistakes and they have god-like abilities that mere mortals don't have. THAT is worth watching. If I wanted to watch a bunch of idiots run around and drop things, I'd have a kid, put him in a pee-wee league and actually go to the games.

So in my house, we do not watch football on Saturdays. We don't even acknowledge it. In fact, the only reason that I even remember that football happens on Saturdays is because I see Facebook status updates lamenting how so-and-so threw another interception. And that's fine with me. I don't think I'm missing much.

Instead, we're glued to the TV on Sundays, watching the Browns lose, the Colts win, Adrian Peterson score and Bill Bellichick wear those three-quarter length sweatshirts for no discernible reason. Good plays, good games, real talent. Toss a few beers and some good friends into the mix, and it's a recipe for an enjoyable Sunday.

Capisce?

We women are often accused of being cryptic.

"Why can't you just say what you MEAN?" men whine.

"Stop playing games," they demand.

"Just TELL ME what you want!" they plead.

No.

We do it our own way and I don't know why. What I do know is that it's not really going to change anytime soon, so here are a few common phrases that I've decoded to take away the great mystery of female communication.

I say: Do you know where the TV remote is?

I mean: Can you find the TV remote so I don't have to get up?

I say: It's cold in here.

I mean: Can you go turn the heat up for me?

I say: Are you thirsty right now?

I mean: Can you go get me some water that I may or may not share?

I say: When was the last time we got groceries?

I mean: It's time for you to put together a Peapod order.

I say: Want to watch a movie?

I mean: I want to want a movie.

I say: What movie do you want to watch?

I mean: What movie do you think I want to watch?

I say: How early are you getting up?

I mean: Wake me up that early and die.

I say: What do you want for dinner?

I mean: Are you cooking dinner tonight or do I need to order something?

I know what you're thinking and, yes, Dave is a lucky man.

10 things I'd be thinking if I got preggo

If I got pregnant at this point in my life, here are the things that would run through my head:


1. Shit.

2. HOW did I lose the bet that my sister would be the first one to get knocked up?

3. When do babies' motor skills kick in so they can wrap their fingers around a bottle of wine and deliver it without dropping it?

4. I foresee money being a slight problem. Do babies really NEED things like cribs and formula and dental care? Because Mommy NEEDS TiVo, Cole Haan and Mana.

5. Oh em gee, what if I have a baby with red hair? Damn Dave and his recessive ginge genes.

6. I don't care how ridiculous this sounds, I WILL pluck my Italian baby's unibrow.

7. I vow to never bring my massive, obnoxious stroller on a crowded bus...

8. ...However, I might bring my obnoxious stroller into a crowded bar.

9. If you don't like your baby, can you trade it in for a pair of shoes or a nice restaurant gift card?

10. Goodbye, sleep. God, I'll miss you. More than you'll never know.


Dear birth control: I love you.

Bad Movie Night lives on

Back in college, my brother held Bad Move Night every week (or every other week) at his apartment. His living room would be crowded with his friends and charming older sister, his bowls overflowing with popcorn, his garbage can littered with empty beer cans and his DVD player filled with gems such as:

• Jason X
• Spice World
• Collateral Damage
• The Gingerbread Man
• Death Race 2000
• Cobra

It was magical.

Now that he has moved to Chicago, we've resurrected Bad Movie Night at my apartment, in all its ridiculous glory.

The first week, we watched Ballistic: Ecks Versus Sever, starring Antonio Banderas and Lucy Liu. It was, of course, retarded and we ended up talking over it more than we actually watched it.

Next up is a repeat for BMN: Jason X. This might be one of my favorites in BMN history. Jason in space? It. Is. Awesome.

We've got a few more in the queue -- specifically Lindsey Lohan's I Know Who Killed Me and the infamously horrible Gigli -- but I'd love to hear some of your votes for worst movie ever.

Suggestions?

Things I want to tell you about

Expect upcoming blogs on:

Prom 2009


Becoming an aunt to Lulu-pup


Moving (and leaving my beautiful view and retardedly high rent)
Beautiful shot, Dave!


Working from home


1-year anniversary

HBO series I like and dislike

I'm planning on elaborating on all these fun things later, but I've been super busy with freelance for the last week (thankfully) and I haven't had time. For now, I leave you in utter suspense.

Domestic crossroads

My brother is moving to Chicago in 2 days. 2 days!

You know what this means?

I am finally getting rid of the shitty futon that's been offending my living room.

This ugly thing has been such an eyesore and I've complained about it endlessly. It doesn't match anything, it's old and faded, it takes up too much room in my tiny living space and it's too low to the ground to really be comfortable. Better for my brother to have it, I say.

But for all this bitching, I'm actually a little sad to lose the extra seating -- as old, gross and cumbersome as it may be.

My apartment isn't really big enough for social events or dinner parties (um, plus I don't have a dining room or even a kitchen table to eat on), so it's not like I holding any substantial gatherings over here. But all I have besides the futon is a couch and chair. That sits, what, 4 people, max?

So, with my brother's arrival and the futon's departure, I'm at a crossroads. I'd like to buy some storage ottomans to compensate for the lack of seating, but my inner indulgence is pushing me to just buy a whole other couch once we move to a bigger place in November.

Not sure what I'll do, so in the meantime, I'll just come over to YOUR house.

(J, I'm looking at you.)