long time off

Wow, I can't believe we let an entire month go by without one single blog post! We are so horrible we shouldn't even be allowed to call ourselves bloggers! We need to get back in the saddle. Well I'll attempt to start us off by writing about a very common problem I've become quite familiar with over the last year and that is shower registries. For a very few special occasions in a woman's life most of us are delighted with the opportunity to hit up our favorite stores and use a magical computerized gun to scan anything and everything we might want onto a magical gift wish list. Now some people would debate the whole idea of the registry, in fact there are those, (Nick), who believe that asking people for specific gifts is quite rude but what he doesn't realize is that failing to specify some ideas or products can lead to utter chaos and potential gift receiving disaster.

The two most common reasons someone would create a gift registry are obviously a wedding or baby shower, both of which are two momentous events in a couples life which often ushers in a completely new phase or lifestyle which many people are materially unequipped to handle. Therein lies the necessity of the gift registry. Now I'm not saying that every couple needs a registry if they're engaged; some people who have lived independently for many years will have most everything they would register for but a lot of couples today still hope to make a home together with stuff that is "theirs" and what new mom has a supply of everything a baby needs before actually getting pregnant? And if they do, that's super weird. That's the whole point of the registry, to get stuff you actually want and need! Now does a new bride really "need" an alligator shaped oven mit? No, but I liked it okay!

I just can't understand why some people feel the need to make it about themselves and buy the bride or pregger's mama some random thing off the registry that they are soooo sure the recepient will love! Just because you love macrame plant hangers or a stained glass platter with a cartoon turkey on it and "Our First Thanksgiving" doesn't mean your friend will! I mean it's true that in most cases you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth but my friend really actually NEEDED a breast pump, and no its not as cute or fun to shop for as baby clothes but come on people, its not about you! Now I have no problem with another mom buying something that she found super helpful with a new baby that wasn't on the registry or adding a personal gift to go along with something on the registry but its there for a reason people so just stick to it and honestly it will make the recipient so much happier then the embroidered Snuggie you were planning to buy them...although as awful as they look, I kind of secretly want one...

Diary of a newlywed...Draft Picks Part 1

Its that time of year again, and one that people either live for or despise, football season. I've never understood the whole Fantasy Football thing and never really cared to. I just thank my lucky stars that Nick isn't obsessed with it because lord knows I already get an earfull about the upcoming season. It was during a conversation when I was questioning the purpose of the fantasy football draft that I found myself asking a bigger question, "why do guys love drafting stuff so much?" They televise the professional sports drafts for entire days, there are the fantasy leagues for fake drafting and even draft parties, I just don't get it! But then I realized it's all just a form of competition and guys can pretty much get themselves revved up to do just about anything when there's competition involved. That's when I had an idea, "what if I incorporated competition and drafting into other unexpected areas of our life?" And here's the first place that idea lead me...

Nick and I have a real love for our bed, maybe even an obsession. We spend as much time as possible in bed doing an array of things from The Nasty, Facebook stalking, solving world hunger, watching Diner's, Drive-In's and Dives, passing out after drinking too much, watching Gwar on Red Eye, to of course sleeping.

We're not one of those couples who has been working 8-5 jobs so long that we automatically wake up at 7am to get yard work done on weekends, nosiree, you will still find us snoozing away until nearly noon on most Saturdays and Sundays when we get the opportunity to do so and I don't feel one single bit of guilt over it! One of the first things I did after we got married was to go out and spend way too much money on my dream bed, a king-size upholstered Hollywood Regency meets modern style bed from Crate and Barrel and some luxurious high thread-count sheets that were worth every penny! If you've ever seen our bed you'll immediately notice that it only looks about 4 feet long because the top 4 feet of it is taken up by a mountain of pillows. Seven to be exact. We're both pretty territorial about which pillows we prefer and which pillowcases go on them. Nick is always stealing my pillows and I hate one of the pillowcases that he insists on keeping on his favorite pillow, (he's named the pillow/case combination "Red Squishy", I know feel free to gag), because it's red and nothing else in our room or bedding is red so it just sticks out like a sore thumb. Well I was getting pretty tired of being the only one to change the sheets and putting my favorite pillowcases on my favorite pillows only to have them stolen for a night to get drooled on by my beloved husband. I'd had enough of the fighting over the best pillows and pillowcases and I came up with an idea to put an end to it. The Pillow Draft. Here's how I laid it out. My first rule was an effort to get some help with the bi-weekly changing of the sheets so I told Nick that whoever remade the bed with clean sheets got the first pick of both the pillow and pillowcase overall which is a very big deal. From there we each take turns drafting our pillowcases and pillows (all of which we have names for) or trading our picks for a certain pillowcase. We even have a whole ceremony to begin the draft process. Are we nerds? Yes, but its totally worked and now we don't haggle over whose pillow is whose, we pick our own and stick with them for the next two weeks!

Where's George?

I'm full of interesting Internet discoveries today! Today is another big lottery day here in Michigan. Our company plays the Mega Millions lottery pool so I had to come up with two dollar bills to win my mega millions. As I was handing off my dollars, I noticed a red stamp on one of the bills that read "Track me at www.wheresgeorge.com." Who is going to ignore a stamp like that? Not me. As far as I'm concerned this is my lucky dollar. So I visited http://www.wheresgeorge.com/ and found a very interesting site devoted to tracking the comings and goings of dollar bills. You enter the serial number and the year it was printed and shazaam! up comes the history of your jet-setting dollar bill.

My dollar bill wasn't as well-traveled as some as it had only been registered in Pennsylvania in 2006, but after today who knows where the road could lead. I've never felt so connected to a dollar before, and I really hope it has a safe and fruitful journey (and never ends up in a stripper's g-string).

After reading about the previous owner of my bill (you can create a full profile and expound upon the condition of the bill and how it arrived in your pocket), I read the histories of their Top 10 bills. It's fascinating stuff. One bill has traveled thousands of miles, through hundreds of fast food restaurants, used as dozens of tips, and was eventually found floating around in Times Square.

Clearly I'm a bit slow today at the office. If you'd like to read up on the adventures of our currency, visit http://www.wheresgeorge.com/. Next time you see a little red stamp on your George Washingtons, make sure you let someone know that it's safe and sound.

Squirrel-Bombing

This is the funniest thing I've seen in FOREVER. I was reading Gawker this morning and saw the headline "At Long Last, the Squirrelizer has Arrived!". I clicked on the link and saw this photo of a squirrel in the foreground of what appears to be a shot of a couple and some lovely scenery. And then read this:

Surely you've heard about the squirrel that photo-bombed a Minnesota couple's timed shot on a Canadian lake? The whole world's gone mad over it! Well now you can have your own photos squirrelized by "that squirrel" as well!

That squirrel photo-bombed their timed photo! This is either the most genius squirrel EVER or this couple just scored kodak moment gold.

Go to the link below to read the original article about how the photo-bombing went down. Crafty little squirrel!

http://www.startribune.com/lifestyle/travel/53158832.html?elr=KArks7PYDiaK7DUvDE7aL_V_BD77%3Cimg

The Great House Hunt

I think we might need a new photo. I kind of feel like this isn't a good representation of me anymore - like maybe there are a few grays now or something. Anyways, to the point of my post today: Home Ownership, aka the American Dream. It was recently brought to my attention that I do not own a home. Yes, I've been paying rent on time now for several years, but apparently that rent is doing nothing but badness to me and my future well-being. It's flying out of my checking account and directly into my landlord's hands and leaving me with nothing but a roof over my head and a very low level of stress in my life. That is not good. I can no longer hop from home to home, refusing to decorate my dwelling, not having to deal with lawn maintenance, and just being an overall lazy arse. I have now entered the "why don't you buy a house" phase of my late 20's. As we all know, there is a checklist in life. Whether you like it or not, ignore it or live by it, there is a checklist. It starts at 18 and gradually builds up as you approach 30. Once you round the corner at 25, people start taking notice of how far you're getting on the checklist. It goes something like this (I'll use mine as an example):

Graduate high school - check

Go to college/graduate - check

Get a job - check

Relationship time/marriage - TBA

Buy a house - TBA

Kiddies - TBA

Don't get divorced - TBA

Retire comfortably on your 401k's and IRA's - TBA

Now of course this is different for everyone as we are all unique and have custom checklists. But I would guess that everyone has a checklist ingrained in them from birth, whether it was parental or societal pressure forming that list...doesn't really matter. My point is that I have entered the "Buy a House" phase of my checklist. Our readers might notice that I kinda skipped over the "Relationship time/marriage" part for now, which makes "Buy a house" even more adventurous (In my experience, if you skip one of the phases and enter the next phase, things are probably going to get stressful - and don't forget to start saving for retirement ASAP!).

Ok, so. I've been looking at houses. I've been through 3 (looking at 2 more today) and nothing has really jumped out at me and said "THIS IS IT!" like everyone says will happen. (So many parallels to dating, but I digress) Before you get overly concerned that I'm only doing this because I feel checklist pressure, allow me to assure you that I remain fully in control here, despite a total and complete meltdown last week. Yes, I agree that now is the time to buy. I am thrilled about the First-Time Home Buyer tax credit ($8000 bucks), I would enjoy my own walls for once and I have been itching to actually decorate something. I'd love for my dog to kill grass that I own so that I can stop worrying about replacing it when I move, and it would be nice to build equity even though I have no idea what that means. Basically, I'd like to invest in my future, aka my retirement accounts are never going to do anything so I need to make bucks off of real estate.

I see the positives and I am weighing the negatives and I do feel that a house would be cool. At the same time though, it's basically majorly stressful. As a single person, I have one income and don't really have a back-up plan if everything goes bust and I am suddenly broke. My accounts are only going to stretch so far before I join the ranks of the foreclosed. Yes, I am looking at the worst possible outcome, but I like to be prepared for all possibilities. No, I'm not going to buy more house than I can afford and I am going to pray every night that the roof is the best roof ever and the furnace loves nothing more than to keep me warm and if all goes well I will come out of this a proud and unscathed homeowner. We shall see.

If nothing else, this gives me some solid blog material, so expect some updates on my house-hunting adventure. Until then I will be taking lawn-mowing classes and will try to come to terms with taxes. Wish me luck.

not okay...

After several of our friends raved and insisted that we go see the latest comedy flick The Hangover, Nick and I finally made it to the theater a few weeks ago. We went to see it on a Tuesday night, a rarity for us, but Nick isn't working and there was a showing that allowed me to be in bed by 11pm so I decided to live on the edge for an evening. At first things seemed to be going our way. We walked up to the box office expecting to pay the exorbitant price of $10.00 per person and were delighted to see that all non new-release movies Sunday-Thursday are just $5.00 a ticket, for anybody at any showtime! Great, I thought! This allowed me to mostly guilt free spend the other $10.00 I saved on a buttery popcorn and diet Pepsi. Since the movie had been out for a few weeks it was in a smaller theater but we got there in time to get great middle-half-way up seats. I had to snicker when the previews started and I heard the distinctive cracking sound of a beer can opening and looked over to find a few college co-eds slugging back some brewskis but knowing what this movie was about, I wasn't surprised by the all adult crowd. About half way into the previews I noticed someone wheel something into the theater. After focusing my eyes for a second I realized with shock that it was a guy pushing a stroller! His wife or girlfriend was behind him and in a matter of seconds pulled out a bumbling little tyke from the carriage and left the stroller by the stairwell. Thoughts of, "Surely they are not bringing a 1ish year old child into a movie theater, and an adult themed movie at that!" Boy was I wrong, they scanned the rows for open seats and I secretly prayed that they wouldn't ask Nick or I to move and make room for their little guy in the seat next to us. The seats were mostly full but they managed to find 2 in the row directly behind us, which after doing the math in my head meant that one of them would have to hold the baby throughout the entire show. Now, I have friends and family that have small children and I totally understand that parents need to get out and see movies too but is it normal to take them to a rated R movie where the rest of the audience is adult?? I know they don't get what's going on when they're that young but the kid was chirping, gurgling, screeching, and laughing all throughout the movie! There's a reasonable chance I'll eat my words in the next 10 years when I want to see a movie and no one can babysit my kid and I really don't feel like going to see G-Force, (that horrendous looking movie about hamster FBI agents), where all the other kids will be laughing and making noise through it but I'll at least give the baby some benadryl or brandy! Okay so I'm kidding, I won't drug my child so I can go see a dumb movie but I can't ever see myself imposing on other people like that. Now did it ruin the movie? No because the movie was absolutely hysterical and Bradley Cooper is totally on my free pass list but it was certainly annoying and I just want to let everyone know that I swear to only take my super young kids to kid friendly movies where they can laugh, scream, upchuck, etc... and it will seem totally appropriate.

BTW, the hype is totally worth it, The Hangover is hilarious!

Can you bottle jet lag?

With the auto companies on summer shutdown for a few weeks my schedule has gotten rather flexible. I wasn't scheduled to work until 11am so I was able to set my alarm for 8:45 this morning which allowed me to get a workout in before showering. Nick and I golfed last night, or rather he golfed and I attempted to keep from losing too many balls with my shots from the fairway, so we had a late dinner and finally got to bed around 11:30 when Chelsea Lately comes on. Nick's ability to sleep in rivals that of a college student so even with my late wake up call I assumed he'd still be snoozing till 11am.

This past Monday he just returned from a 12 day guys golf trip to Ireland and his body clock is all messed up so I couldn't figure out if I was imagining, fantasizing or just plain dreaming when I woke up this morning. I hit the snooze button once for that extra 7 minutes then finally rolled over to grab my crackberry and see who was after me at the office. We sleep with a fan and an air filter so WWIII could pretty much start on our front lawn at night and we'd have no idea. I reached over my foot to find one of Nick's feet for our morning footsie tradition and was confused when I didn't feel anything. I rolled over only to come face to face with the body pillow he hugs at night minus Nick. I finally got up and switched off the air filter and still heard a loud air sucking sound and started to really wonder if I was hearing things or if I'd accidentally taken too much Benadryl last night. I walked out of the room to follow the noise and began to wonder if I'd left something on last night while beginning my descent of the basement stairs. The fog hadn't quite cleared from my head because I couldn't seem to process the scene in front of me. There was Nick, dressed in shorts and a shirt looking awfully awake while vacuuming the basement. I know this doesn't sound that weird but it was 8:55am and I don't know if I've ever seen Nick vacuum the basement, let alone before the crack of noon. He finally noticed my presence and the confusion on my face when I asked if he was alright. He just chuckled and said, "jet lag...woke up at 8 and couldn't get back to sleep so I thought I'd get going on vaccuuming the basement and around my CD's." Peering at his desk I noticed that he'd done some organizing as well, (something I'd been waiting for him to tackle for the last 9 months). I don't know what is so different about his body clock being off and him just randomly waking up early on a Saturday but this is the only time I can recall him finding some shred of self-motivated urge to clean and his explanation was the jet lag! I'm gonna have to send him off on more international trips in the future if this is what happens. I wonder if the jet lag is worse, like if he goes to Australia, maybe I can get him to repaint the garage or clean out the gutters or scrub the toilets?? That'd be fantastic!