If I Could Offer Any Advice, It Would Be That You Rent. Forever.

My favorite thing about my house is where it's located. It's 5 minutes to my parents, 10 to work and 2 minute walk to Tony and Michelle or Simon and Kacie's. And honestly, my adoration pretty much stops there. Owning a home is like a marriage without the benefit of sex. It's just a drain. On your wallet, on your time, on your soul. I love the IDEA of owning a home, but in practice, it really just blows.
Now, I admit, Matt and I bit off WAAAAAAAAAYYYYY more than we could chew on purchasing our particular 1910 farmhouse in Sugarhouse. I naively thought the restoration would be fun, like an episode of Curb Appeal or Ask Genevieve on HGTV. WRONG. It's not fun and it's too expensive to actually do any"restoration." We haven't been able to do anything more than paint the dining room since when we first moved in a year ago. We're too busy and too broke to be farmhouse home owners. And while Matt is handy I hardly blame the guy for being less than enthusiastic about the "Honey-Do" list that literally rolls out for miles.
On top of our house being kinda a run down mish-mash color circus on the inside, the yard being a gross experiment in how long it takes grass to really die completely, the leaking roof, the leaking faucets, the cracked walls and floors - we are FREEZING. Freezing. I haven't yet seen a full month's heat bill but if we base it off last month's partial heat bill I'm really frightened. Even with the new insullation which Matt and Jim so graciously put into the floors, I think we're screwed.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, to top it all off, we have rats. '
Yep.
Rats.
In our walls.
Matt accidently left the basement door open the other night after working his butt off to get the faucets in the bathroom to stop leaking. And that evening, the rodents of Sugarhouse decended upon my abode through that open door, I know this because last year, with a very locked cellar door, we had no rodent issue. And now, I lay awake all night hearing the pitter patter of little rodent feets in my walls and ceiling. Say it with me now, "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Nope.
We pay half our monthly wages in mortgage for a rat infested, freezing cold farm house. Awesome. And thanks to this country's AWESOME economy there is no way we could unload the beast for what we owe on it. Yep. We're those people.
Now, I am not writing this rant as a way of asking for pity (unless you are an Orkin man who can offer me a deal). I am simply throwing this up as a warning to anyone in the housing market. Rent. Oh I swear to you! RENT! That is, until you can afford something brand new (or already renovated) in the neighborhood you want. Settling gets you in way more trouble than any house warrants. And then you'll get rats in your walls.

New Obsession

Oh, I am in so much love! MTV which keeps producing crappy episodes of the Hills and the City just brought me a gift from heaven. Jersey Shore is the biggest pile of trash, but in the best way. If you get a chance, do not miss this hot hot hot mess.

Happy Birthday Tony!!

Friday was Tony's birthday bash! And since Tony makes the best drinks, ever he kindly whipped up cocktails!!

Happy Birthday Tony!!

The Famous Kim Fawley

WAHOO!! Allow me to introduce to you, White House decorator extraordinaire, my mom's best friend and my new famous family member Kim Fawley!! Kim was selected after YEARS of writing to the White House to be one of the patriots to decorate the "Blue Room." Kim will also be on OPRAH!!! YES OPRAH!!! AND, my personal fav, HGTV. But first, here she is being a big star.

Wow. I've Been Missing

I'm sorry! I have been missing. Thanksgiving was good to me. The fam headed to Wendover for some Thanksgiving fun and food! It was a great time (and a killer hangover, I guess I'm a Wendover wine-o, who knew).

Anywho, to my story.

In Wendover, they have big hot tubs! In the rooms! Which is fabulous. So we're taking a bath and I decide to get out. Even in my wine induced haze, I was aware the marble tile around the tub was going to be slippery so I purposely plant myself. When I finally step out my big toe touches the marble, and as I lean out the tub, my foot goes flying, and I eat carpet. Literally. I smash the ground on my right shoulder and boob like a tossed sack of rocks! I'm still bruised. And not just my ego from having my husband watch my naked, wet body eat shit.

Luckily, there were no pictures of the embarrassing event, however, we got a great shot of dad enjoying his Thanksgiving meal! Happy Turkey Time from the buffet!!

Take A Moment to Giggle

These are called the "Let's go for a drink" male and female flow charts. Sure it's sexiest, but it's hilarious. So go ahead and giggle.

Thanksgiving Homecoming

This is an update to an earlier post about my uncle George.
After many weeks of fighting against multiple odds that would take this entire blog page to list Uncle George is coming home just in time for Thanksgiving!
His recovery is still a long road, but it starts today by being home in his own bed. My Aunt Pat is amazing. In just these few weeks she is nearly back to full health, helping lift and move George. They truly are a team in every sense of the word. So many people helped them get to this point. Sadly, being stuck here, we just sent prayers, and will miss them this Thanksgiving especially.
But hooray for HomeComings!! And hooray for life and the ones we love.
This Thanksgiving, my family is especially grateful.

Check this Out!

Both my Auntie's work at the Coastal Discovery Museum in Hilton Head, South Carolina. This past summer I went to visit and it is a fabulous place. I went through the butterfly house which was amazing and did a late night turtle watching walk along the beach. Well, this little low country treasure now has a blog to keep up on all the natural happenings on island! Stop by and take a look! My fav was this little guy, I suggest you skip the bit about the snakes. yick.

Dirty Old Lady

Now, I'm no Twili-loonie (I didn't even finish the fourth book I felt the characters and message were both grotesque). But lets face it, when there is something this deliciously cheesey around. I'm there. I love a good train wreck and if that train wreck has hot boys on it, even better.

But, to my point, Kacie deemed the shirtless Taylor Lautner, "Worth the price of admission." And I competely agree. Even if that does make me a dirty old lady, since he's what? Nineteen? It's the old adage usually reserved for men, "I keep getting older and they just stay the same age."

Any person judging this movie for acting of cinematic quality is a reject. This movie is nothing more than girl porn. Yep, porn for us girls. Matt will be reaping the rewards of this matinee for weeks to come. And I don't think we shouldn't feel the least bit bad about that. Men have skinamax, and we have our vampires and werewolves. Yum.

Is It Possible To Die of Happiness

While everyone else was freaking out of werewolves and vampires this weekend. I plan to stare longingly at this picture. Yes, this is what all we Sex and the City freaks have been waiting for....the prequel. I could hug my computer for bringing me this joyous news. Now I just have to wait till April. I'm headed to Amazon.com to preorder now!

Tartar Sauce or Why I Will Never Go to Karl's Jr. Again

Today, I was having one of those raging PMS cravings for a cheeseburger. So at lunch I skipped over to the Karl's Junior and ordered a cheeseburger, no mustard, no pickles, no onions.

While I wait a man, who one could safely assume was homeless, is ordering his lunch. He has many different orders and cannot seem to find one that safely fits within his budget of $2.50 which he has in change. Now, I've worked the fast food circuit. I know he begged for that money and needs something to eat. You just hang tight and get them an order. It's hard not to cry while you do so. Anyway! At the end of his order, he says "and TARTAR SAUCE!" The boy taking his order nods.
Few minutes later, the man gets his order and looks in the bag.
"Where my tartar sauce? I wanted a tartar sauce!" The man behind the counter nods and returns with fry sauce.
"That ain't tartar sauce! I ordered tartar sauce!" The counter guy has now involved the boy who took the order who hands the homeless man five honey barbeque packets.
Now the homeless man is irrate, "I want some damn tartar sauce! Can't you understand? TAR-TAR SAUCE!"
The counter boy and man speak little English so they call in a manager who hands the homeless man, I kid you not, packets of honey.
Now the people around are coming to the man's rescue. A woman is trying to explain, "It's white, for fish."
They hand him mayonaise.
"I JUST WANT SOME FUCKING TARTAR SAUCE!" says the man.
I leave with my burger as he and the kind woman are trying to convey what tartar sauce is. I can hear him yelling as I walk back toward work. Not sure who I feel more bad for.

When I get back to my desk and open the cheesey goodness I've been craving all day, I am met with a hamburger, with extra mustard, extra pickles and extra onions. I think about walking it back over in a huff, then remember they were fuzzy on tartar sauce, and decide cheese will probably be beyond them, and throw the burger away.

I Couldn't Make This Stuff Up

There is a very small part of me (miniscule, actually) that will miss my Salt Lake Community College Paralegal circus when I graduate at the end of the semester. These classes over the last few years haven't taught me a whole lot more than, that yes, there really are some serious losers out there, and you might have to work with them, if you don't already.
I will miss the ability to regale my blog readers with stories of these weridos, but I believe, in all seriousness, the best few were saved for last...
There is a woman in one of my classes who, in every interaction she has, seems to be hitting on the other person. Her tone, is perpetually, and her intent, always, somewhat more sexual than it should be. Male or female. She's older, heavy, stringy hair, with these strange boil things on her face and a creepy body tattoo, as in, a tattoo all over her body. Okay, there is the set up. Anywho, we're all sitting in class as normal when suddenly the professor says, in a voice that is more than mildly ticked off, "Did you just take my picture?"
And there is this woman, in the front row, with her camera phone poised in picture taking form.
She smiles, "I just love the faces you make when you start getting worked up about something, they are just precious."
I shit you not. This actually happened.
"Well, what are you going to do with it?" the professor asks, worried where his likeness, owned by this woman, will end up.
"Just keep it. I just love those faces."
The class, was dead silent, we were all too creeped out to even laugh. It was funny in a Stephen King sort of way.
"Well," says a girl in the back, "THAT'S creepy."
And it gets better.
In this same class there are two sets of people who seem to enjoy each others company a bit more than married people should enjoy the company of a member of the opposite sex. And I'm not talking flirting and getting some game on, no. I consider that harmless. This feels planned, like it's been going on for years. Also, the age range is a little Demi Moore/Ashton Kutcher, which, when the people aren't super attractive, is just plain yucky.
To my point, one of these people is this loud mouth, fatty cabbage patch kid of a man who basically ruins every class with his fat, stupid mouth. I'm all about loud people, as long as they aren't complete morons. This guy, though, wins the loser cake. Out of everyone I have EVER had to be in the same room with this guy is the second most annoying piece of crap human I've ever met, and anyone who knows me, knows I've had some real, um, winners in my circle before.
Back to my story, after theis guy is done harrassing me for saying, "It's going" when he asks me "How is it going?" (Even after I explain to him under my breath that it's the language I use when I don't actually want to have any further conversation with the asker) he pulls out cupcakes. A huge flat of nearly 40 cupcakes with tiny "Happy Birthday" signs stuck in them. There are 12 of us in the class on any given day, but you see, it was the birthday of the mother of 4 he sits next to, the two constantly shamelessly drooling over each other and he'd brought her a very public gift/display of affection.
But, she wasn't there.
So he offers up the treats anyway, which I don't plan to eat because if he had anything to do with it, there is probably pee in them. And when the girl in the sweater that she's sure is a dress if she just keeps pulling it down asks, "Why didn't you bring anything for my birthday?"
Melonhead answers, "Because I don't have the relationship with you that I do with her."
Um, wowza. The class is silent.
Why didn't you just have sex with her on the table in front of us all? Then at least we could have put it on youtube.
Realizing what he's just said, he quickly sits down and class is allowed to begin. The professor after last week's imprompto photoshoot and now this looks slightly off kilter. I'm sure the fact that Emily and I couldn't keep composure and were laughing ourselves sick in the back row didn't help.
In a way I'll miss the SLCC Paralegal, it's been nice walking into a classroom day after day knowing that I'm the smartest person in the room, total ego boost, I don't foresee that happening regularly in the rest of my life. I don't know yet if that makes me happy, or sad.

Family Tree

I just stumbled across Lake Jane today and her adorable take on the Family Tree. I am going to try my hand at one of these for Matt's family I think, how adorable is this as a Christmas gift?

What does GRE even stand for?

So I've decided to prep for the GRE. It's time, I need to get it done and get a score, if at least to take it again to get a better one.
I spent a part of my break today, looking up some test prep options today, books and classes and such and as I am sorting through I find a "study" math section question.

It reads...(I know this cause I copied and pasted)
"4/9 = x/3 find x"

I read...
"π䣩≠™ü=€ß½ü–ð find x"

Yeah, this isn't good.

I even tried to figure it out. I came up with 12. Which, I guess, isn't right.

Obviously, it's no secret. I can barely add. I finished college level statistics, on a wing and prayer and when I got a "D" (which meant I'd passed) I cried. I literally cried tears of joy.
That was 9 years ago.
I haven't done math without Excel or a calculator handy since.
And we don't get a calculator to take the test.
I think the right word for my position right now is, "Royally Fucked."
Looks like a wing and prayer time again people, only this time, no smart Asian girl is sitting next to me.

Did I mention

...that I adore Taylor Swift?

Gracie's is Fabulous!

Our friend Josh held a fantasticly fun birthday celebration at the new bar Gracie's downtown. This is absolutely the best bar I've seen come to Salt Lake in a long time. Here are pictures from the rooftop bar. It has a fabulous view of downtown!! Gracie's is clean, the wine selection is great and there are multiple bars around the bar itself which made getting drinks much easier and faster. Also, the people were so nice, both the bartenders and the patrons were so nice. It was chill and not at a meat market. I completely recommend a night out here.

Matt and I Go Nitro Circus

Matt's sister Cindy and her family invited us down this weekend for four-wheeling in little Sahara. It was such a great time!!! The weather was perfect and it was fabulous. Now, I LOVE four-wheeling, but I am more of a mountain, rocks, dirt sort of girl, not really the sand sort. For whatever reason, I just feel less in control on the sand. So Matt was the driver. Usually, he's pretty safe with me, but whatever was in his drink, he decided to go a little Travis Pastrana for my taste, taking me off a jump. Our heads smashed and my boobs were not well enough restrained to be jumping! To make it up to me, he took me up to see the world's prettiest sunset that isn't over an ocean.

I Just Flashed the Office

Literally.
I need to learn that not all pretty fabrics can be worn. For instance, I made the most FABULOUS skirt out of a pretty pinky-orange weave. Which I then wear with a fabulous ruffle cardigan of a similar color.
However, at about 10:30 this morning, as I sat down, the pretty weave pencil skirt couldn't take the pressure and the sound of ripping cloth tore through my typing. Split, from hem to top, my beige panties (or kinda panties) were hangin' out. Sadly, I had about 10 things I had to finish in about 5 minutes, so I sat in my skirt/sarong and then held it closed as I finished up enough work so I could high-tail it home to fix my hot mess self.
It did not help that then when I arrived home my dog decided, after a nice long stretch, to puke all over the kitchen floor.
I seriously considered just getting back into bed and turning my phone off.
Now, back at work, everyone keeps saying "Did you change?"
Luckily, I've never taken myself very seriously, so showing my panties to half the office, probably won't ruin my day as much as the doggy barf did.
Happy Thursday!

Happy Halloween from the Halloween-i-est law firm in town.

Every year, work hosts a HUGE Halloween party for all the employees and their families. There are games, trick-or-treating and family pictures. It's a great day here!

Me, as a Boston Red Sox Ted Williams

Emily as the grim reaper and Casey as Farrah

Runners costume it up!

Darcie in our handmade Cleopatra

Meloo and Dustin battle it out.

The Dog the Big Bad Dog

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

from Dog and Beth Chapman

Happy Halloween

from Lady Gaga and Kanye West

Happy Halloween

from Sexy Doctor Norwood and Little Bo Peep

Happy Halloween

from the 90's.

Happy Halloween

from Rainbow Bright

Happy Halloween

from the Worker and Killer Bee

Happy Halloween

from Little Bo Peep and Chuck Norris

Happy Halloween

from Mustard and the Devil's Angel!

Asking for Prayers

My Aunt Pat and Uncle George were in a horrible car accident last night. They were hit by another car causing them to slide off into a fire hydrant. Pat is fine, but covered in bumps and bruises. George is afflicted with brital bone disease, so it is safe to say most of him is broken. He will require a multitude of surgeries and good thoughts. So please send your prayers his way. He is in good spirits considering, but every bit of good karma helps!

Guess that tummy flutter yesterday wasn't something great afterall.

***UPDATE***

The person that hit them was a drunk driver. With a suspended license and no car insurance.

Heart Flutter

Ever get the sensation that something is about to happen?

Like your soul knows something is on its way you didn't expect but must have secretly wanted? I've got that flutter today. Like a cramp in my tummy.

Don't know if its for real but I can't wait to see the result of what I've been putting out into the universe.

Ten Thousand?

It's official. My "visits" clicker at the bottom on my blog just hit 10,050 hits.

HOORAY!!!

You like me. You really like me.

Thanks for reading.

I promise to always at least TRY to be entertaining.

One Woman Tacoma Demolition Team

As of late, and due to Matt’s new job, I’ve been driving the Toyota Tacoma. The brand new Toyota Tacoma. Which is essentially the same size as a tank used in the Iraqi desert to shoot up small towns. Parking the thing is a small feat, which usually requires a 50 point turn. I also have to wrangle my way out of it in a dress, so I park only in stalls next to walls so I don’t shoot any co-workers the beaver.
I miss my little Corolla, but we simply can’t afford to put gas into the Tacoma two times a week for Matt to take it to the Riverton Hospital (more on that later).
So, to my story, this morning as I went to turn right at a light on the way to work, I looked both ways in my tank. Clear, clear again, so I pull into the cross walk, blinker on to make my turn. I look again, and again, I change the radio station, and let off the brake. And there, right in front of me, dead center, are two homeless people. One, a woman in a floor length fur coat, wearing a Little Edie headscarf is closest to my truck brush guard.
I scream.
She drops her Big Gulp.
I put the car in park. I am unsure if I’ve bumped her, or scared her, but for sure she is in front of the tank I’m driving and my foot had released the brake. As I’m scrambling out of the monstrous vehicle she picks up her drink and points at me.
“Jerk!” she said though not really loud or aggressive and she and her male companion start walking away! I’m still working my pencil-skirted way out of the truck when I yell at them, “Oh my God, let me call the police, are you okay? Do you need an ambulance? Can I buy you another drink?” Out of the two of us, though she is in a fur, with a big gulp and is obviously drunk as a skunk or high as a kite, I am acting more crazy. “Let me call the police!” She keeps walking, doesn’t even look back and takes a sip out of her Big Gulp. I’m nearly in tears, “ARE YOU OKAY?”
They are now nearly halfway down the block.
Back in the truck I watch them walk, and I’m stunned and shaking and pretty sure this isn’t happening. I’m now worried I should call the police, but I’m unsure if I even hit her. She is obviously far less worried about her health or legal ramifications than I am. So I start the truck up and leave.
Moral of the story?
Homeless people move REALLY fast, so if you drive a tank, just wait for the light to turn green. And/or have enough points in your karma bank so that if you do bump someone with your tank, they just walk away sipping their Big Gulp.

Garkfunkel and Oates, My New Youtube Obsession!