“I’m an open book.” Well, sure I am, I’m all about the open book thing. Unless you spent hours putting together a meal and part of it tastes a bit hinky, then I’m all about the smiling politely because you cooked for me thing.
I don’t consider that being a closed book, though, I just call it good manners.
But today? Today’s a day for true confessions, because who else am I gonna tell all my bizarre secrets to except you good folks?
Life is about celebrating all the things, don’t you think? Big, little, everywhere in between – if we don’t do the happy dance as often as possible, well, then we’re missing out on a lot of chances to dance. And I’m all about some dancing. Just ask my kids.
So I don’t wanna brag, but…
1. Nine times out of ten I can securely wrap the cord around my hair dryer without hitting myself in the head. A 90% success rate? I’ll take that.
2. It’s been at least six months since I’ve had to induce vomiting in my dog. Knock on wood. Seriously, everybody – you know Gracie – knock on wood right now. Thanks.
3. I finally learned how to make a hard boiled egg. Which means there’s hope for anybody in the kitchen.
“You have a golden retriever? Those are really good dogs.”
You mean, like, good family dogs? Definitely. You mean “good” as in well behaved? Well…
When the IV tech says, “Yep. We always put one of these down in case there’s a crime scene.” Umm…okay. Now I’m super psyched to let you stick me.
8:30am – “Okay, I feel ready to go back to school now.” 9:30am – “Man, I don’t want to go to school…” What a difference an hour makes.
Postal carriers in a Cleveland suburb are running scared from a band of aggressive wild turkeys blocking deliveries to more than two dozen homes. Residents are no doubt annoyed that Thanksgiving birds are forcing them to queue up at the post office. On the up side, it does mean getting to see this sentence in print: “A U.S. Postal Service spokesman says some carriers have been pecked but none have been injured.”
“Oh, mom…” Uttered at the sight of my ridiculously enormous supplements. Or the really gross looking Cleanse shake I’m drinking in the mornings. While watching me try to order off a menu, or hearing about favorite foods that landed on my restricted list. Basically, the kids think my life is over.
1. Winter Break, followed by one day of school then two snow days. A weekend, then a two hour delay, the winter weather advisory posted by 9:30am, and a nearby school system dismissing at 1:00pm. Could these kids please, please, just go back to school already?!
2. Bring it on, Winter.
3. Just kidding, Winter. Don’t bring on anything, just keep that sh*t to yourself.
Ah, the second week of January, when new year’s resolutions are fresh and there’s no parking to be found within three blocks of the Y.
“There is a vicious rumor going around that it’s the new year. Fake news strikes again. Sad.
Oh wait… Shit… It is the new year.
Well, I guess that explains the recent tsunami of articles about “How to Go to the Gym,” “How to Keep Going to the Gym,” “How to Get to the Gym,” “How to Stay at the Gym Once You Get There,” “How to Not Just Buy a T-Shirt From the Gym That Says, ‘Namasté Fit’ and Then Never Return,” etc.
Yes, people descend on the gym on new years like people descend on the grocery store at news of an approaching storm.”
Fuck the Gym: Damn, Girl. Get Your Shit Together
Sure, it’s January, but I think we can all agree the holiday spirit still hangs in the air. At least long enough for me to get one last Christmas post out there, right?
‘Tis the season to cut a girl some slack.
My earliest memory of wallpaper is a foggy one. My mom and dad were putting up some in a bathroom – it was one of those small half baths, the kind you have to turn sideways in to pass someone at the sink. I’m not sure what inspired the home project, but I vaguely recall some rather sharp tones floating out into the hallway. No death threats, mind you, but it was still a shock for a kid who never heard her parents fight.
But as an adult who has (by choice) had very limited practice with wallpaper? Let’s just say I’m surprised I don’t remember anything getting thrown across the room.
The wallpaper experience is not for the faint of heart.