Snotty New Year

Well so far 2011 has kicked my boo-tay. I flew out on New Year's Eve to visit one of my best friends and we were supposed to go out to go see a band play and ring in the new year. Instead, I was on the couch in my jammies, feeling like doo-doo. And then I went to urgent care a few days later and was diagnosed with a double ear infection and an upper respiratory infection. I flew home a couple of days after that and though not feeling 100%, I went back to work. And by this past Monday I was feeling about as rotten as I had before the 10 days of antibiotics. So I went back to the doctor on Monday to be told that I still have an ear infection and now a sinus infection and STILL an upper respiratory infection. If I were 15 I'd say FML. But since I'm 34 I'll say...oh the hell with it - Fuck My Life. So I've been home sick for the last few days and I am slowly losing my mind. Turns out, there is NOTHING on tv during the day. And I've been reading my new book for book club but even that is tiring when I have to put down my book to cough up a lung every 5 minutes. I did manage to make some yummy cookies this afternoon - oatmeal, cranberry, white chocolate chip cookies. Nomnomnomnomnom, if I do say so myself.

Anyway, this cold was not how I was had intended to start the year. All my motivation was blow out in a Puffs Plus about a week ago. So now I'm all sad and blue because I feel like I've already lost 3 weeks worth of whatever this year had to offer. I might be being a tad dramatic but between the illness and the houseboundness and the general feeling of yuck, I'm just sad. Plus, January has never been my favorite month, so there's that too.

So in the interest of getting me out of my funk, I decided to do little things to make myself hapy. First, the cookies. Just the smell of something baking makes me cheery. Then I called the neighbor kids over and gave them a dozen and they were so excited and kept telling me how yummy the cookies were and that make me really happy because I love cooking for people but I really love cooking for people who love my cooking. And then I worked on getting my passport renewed because I've decided that in 2011 I will be doing some international travel. Perhaps as a 35th birthday to myself. Who knows. And now I'm going to do a little yoga before bed today...assuming I do drown in my own snot when I going into downward dog. Yoga always makes me feel better. And then I will take the awesome cough medicine that puts me into the deepest, lovliest sleep ever. And I'm always a happier person when I get sleep.

So that's the update from here. Not much exciting to report but hey, at least I'm writing.

33

I've been meaning to write about my birthday for oh, nearly a month, but I haven't had much time to sit down and go on and on about how fantastic it was. The last few birthdays have been a bit lackluster, to say the least. So I decided that this year would be big. Quite a few of my friends hadn't seen the new house yet so I threw a housewarming/birthday extravaganza.

Keeley, KC, Marla

Steve

Steve, Keeley and Marla relaxing in the backyard at 2am.

Shawnie, Rosie, Liz

Amber and me


John, Chris, Cooper, Karen & Amber

Steve and Rashaad

Sarah and Aaryn

So the birthday was awesome and though I'm only a month in, 33 really seems like it's going to be a great year. I always make a New Year's Resolution on my birthday and this year is was to write more. So far I'm failing miserably but I've got 11 more months to make it up. In the meantime, I'm just going to keep on living the good life.

As of Late

I went to Chicago for vacation and went sailing. It was as fantastic as I thought it would be and I will be going again. Not sure when as there aren't many regatta galas here in the greater Denver metro area, but I'll figure it out.

I've been working on the new house. Still. *sigh*

But I still love it more than just about anything else. Except for the brown dog. I still heart him above all others. He's doing quite well, too. Thanks for asking! He's just been playing some ball and enjoying summer.

I turn 33 next week and two of the best people I know are coming in for my party this weekend. I'm having a housewarming/birthday extravaganza this coming weekend and while trying to plan the menu I've also been wondering how the hell I became 33. Because in my head, I'm still like, 25. Don't get me wrong, my thirties haven't been bad, it's just so odd to think that I'm going to be 33. Thirty-three. Whew, I need to lie down for a minute.

In other news, I cannot get enough sugar snap peas or bing cherries lately. I sit on my porch swing and eat one or the other almost every night.

Life is pretty good.

Oh, the Oddities

So there was full moon this week and I think that must explain the strange things going on as of late. Ok, so some of this stuff happened prior to the full moon but I'll blame the moon none the less.

Ok, so I haven't slept much since moving into the new house. As some of you know, I'm not a great sleeper anyway and being in a new place doesn't help. So I'm averaging about 4 hours a night these days. I'm hoping as I get more comfortable at the house, the hours will increase. Anyway, I was actually asleep one night around 3am when I heard something. I wasn't sure what it was but I knew I wasn't imagining it because Barley was awake, ears perked and growling. Before I could get out of bed there was pounding on my front door. I damn near jumped out of my skin and Barley went crazy and took off for the front door. The pounding on the door stopped immediately as I heard a mans voice yell, "What the fuck?" Barley continued to bark and claw at the front door and I let him as I tried to decide if I needed to call 911. Of course I couldn't find my phone so I stood there thinking I was going to be killed. I crept into the the guestroom which has a window off the front porch and could hear the guy talking on his phone. And it went a little something like this: "Fuck dude, I don't know. I took a cab home and tried to get in my house but I can't. And there's a big ass dog in there and I don't have a dog. I don't think this is my house. (Insert a few moments of silence as he sorts it all out.) Dude, I'm not even on my own fucking street! I don't know where I am and the fucking cab left. Fuck man, come get me....I just told you I don't know where I am! When will you be here?!" And then he stumbled off my porch. Barley was still going nuts and since he was off the porch I decided it was safe to sneak a peak out the window. I catch a glimpse of what appeared to be a 20-something guy stumbling down the street, completely lost and trying to dial his phone. I never heard anything more from him...and I never fell back asleep. Jackass.

And then last weekend I was having dinner at Le Central with my gay boyfriend when a girl at a table behind us fell out of her chair onto the floor. The girl she was sitting with understandably freaked out and tried to help her friend. There was a table of four men, probably in their 40's, sitting next to the girl and her friend. The men, seeing the commotion made no effort to help at all. In fact, the girl hit the floor right next to one guy's chair and he simply looked at her down on the floor and scootched (is that a real word?) his chair over a few inches and kept talking to the other guys. The girl's friend then yelled that she wasn't breathing so I jumped up and went over to her. I'm CPR certified and though I've never had to do it in real life I thought maybe I could help. Gay boyfriend, also certified came over as well and as we rolled her over onto her back, she opened her eyes and came to. Turns out, she had passed out and was relatively ok, minus the huge bump on her forehead where she hit the floor. We had her lay there for a minute and as she did I looked around and realized no one else was helping or doing anything at all. One girl did manage set down her wine and call 911 but that was it. I was kinda stunned. Having dealt with my own Passing Out at a Restaurant situation where there were almost too many people helping, I couldn't believe that no one did anything. We were in a lovely french restaurant with lots of people paying good money for a meal. I passed out in a cheap Chinese restaurant where damn near everyone in there tried to help pull my face out of my wonton soup. The lesson here: if you're going to had a medical crisis at a restaurant, make it a cheap one; people at fancy restaurants are a-holes who wouldn't put down their forks to help.

And then the other night I was at home getting ready for bed when another situation arose. I had made some tea (Sleeptime tea, in an effort to help me sleep) and was walking of the kitchen when I smelled gas. At first I thought it was just because I'd used the stove but a few minutes later I could still smell it. I had smelled it faintly once or twice before but having never had a gas stove before, I figured it was nothing. After talking to a friend, she assured me it was not normal and told me I needed to called the gas company to have them check it out. It was 10:30pm but I called anyway and they said they would send someone out immediately. Apparently, the word "immediately" as defined by Exel energy is somewhere in the ballpark of 2 hours. Anyway, the guy showed up and pulled out this detector thingamajig and stuck it near the stove. The thing went bat-shit crazy and the guy looked up at me and said, "Oh yeah, you got a gas leak." He pulled the stove away from the wall, took one look at the line and said, "Well here's your problem." And then he went on to explain something about a hose and an attachment that wasn't there and how it really needed to be there and who did I have install this thing because they did a piss-poor job. So after the lecture was finished he fixed what needed to be fixed and left around 1am. He also told me that if I ever smelled gas again, no matter how faint, I should call immediately. "We'd rather come out and find out it was nothing than have your house blown to the other side of town." Such comforting words. So the next morning after letting Barley out the back door I thought I smelled gas again. So I called again. And they sent someone out again. Thankfully, they didn't detect anything but I'm pretty sure I'm paranoid now because I'm always thinking I can smell gas. But hey, at least my house hasn't blown to the other side of town.

Getting Settled

The brown dog still goes to the front door when he needs to go out because he forgets that he has a big backyard these days. And I need a step stool to reach the blinds in the kitchen thanks to the 9' ceilings. But other than that, we're settling in quite nicely.

Slowly Losing My Mind

I've spent the last two days at the new house getting things ready before the big move on Saturday. Tuesday, my sisters and their boyfriends came over and helped me paint which was a huge help. We managed to get the horrible pink and red walls (uh, they were SO bad!) covered with a lovely, more neutral shade. The bad part was, we had to clean for nearly 3 hours to get all of the grime off the floors and walls. I evidently bought a house from the filthiest couple on the planet. The hardwoods had so much junk on them and the walls had a layer of...I don't even know the word...dust/dog hair/dirt/bleeeeeeeeeeeech that we spent forever just wiping them down. Also, the world's dirtiest couple took the shower head in the bathroom. If the phrase you're uttering right now is "WTF?" well then you and I are on the same page. And I won't even tell you how bad the kitchen was because it would only give you nightmares. Thankfully I have a wonderful family who has continued to help out despite my several breakdowns. Here are the following things that have sent me into a tailsping in the last couple of days...

1. General unsanitary condition new house was in upon my arrival.

2. Picking paint colors for the bedrooms.

3. Finding out that the house doesn't have a 220 line in the basement for my electric dryer so I either have to a) buy a gas dryer or b) have a new line run.

4. Giant hole in the fence that allows neighbors tiny dog to come over in my yard and relieve himeself whenever he needs to.

5. Busted p-trap under the kitchen sink that caused lots of water to spray all over the damn place.

6. Ants. Lots of 'em.

7. When I spilled a great deal of paint on the hardwoods.

8. Barley getting out of the backyard and doing a tour of North Denver last night.

So the last one put me in such a state of panic that I was driving around in tears asking people if they'd seen a brown dog. Acutally, I was yelling it out the window while bawling hysterically. Thankfully, my aunt and uncle came over to aid in the search and they found him a few blocks away, romping in an alley. I was so happy to see him that I only called him a rat bastard twice. And then I hugged him and cried into his brown fur. It was all very touching.

So now I have to run up to Home Depot and pick up more paint because despite the fact that the paint guy assured me that one gallon would cover the room when I gave him the dimensions, it in fact, did not. And later today I will deal with Comcast and the moving of the cable, phone and internet. That should be one hell of a good time.

Perhaps the next time you hear from me it will be of a happier nature...the liquor cabinet should be unpacked by then.

I'm Living in a Box. I'm Living in a Cardboard Box.

I'm living in squalor. And I don't care for it.

I close on the new house this coming Friday, take possession the following Monday and move Saturday May 23rd. My townhouse is filled with boxes and I find myself tripping over them on a regular basis.; it's making me crazy. I jammed my shin into a box last night as I was getting ready to go out and I let forth a stream of profanities so loudly that it actually made Barley run out of the room. The state of constant disorganization is getting to me. I tried for a little while today to stack and organize the boxes and it seems to help a little but I'm going to have to just suck it up and deal with the mess for 2 more weeks. There's a nearly a week between possession and move-in so that will give me enough time to paint and do a few other small projects before we get all of the furniture in. The seller's actually painted recently but I do not share their love of pastel walls so I picked paint colors and have recruited a few awesome friends and my two lovely sisters to help with Paintfest '09.

It's sort of hard for me to believe I'm actually going to be moving. You would think that all of the boxes I was just complaining about would be a clue for me but it all seems a bit surreal. I think it's because I've wanted this for so long. It took me a while to get myself together to be able to do it and now that it's actually happening, it doesn't seem real. I have to give props to my dear friend Karen, who during dinner one night last fall while I was again talking about finding a house interupted me and said, "Ok, then just do it already." I sat there for a minute a bit slack-jawed because she was so blunt about it. And then she reminded me that this is the one thing I've consistently talked about for the last five years. I sat there for a moment realizing that she was totally right (as Karen usually is) and decided at that very moment that I was going to buy a house. I'd set the goal of finding a place and being moved in by June 1, 2009. I will beat that goal by 8 whole days. Go me! Anyway, a huge thanks for Karen for giving me that gigantic kick in the ass that I needed.

Ok, I've been packing and organizing non-stop...but on my few short breaks I've been downloading new music and checking the gossip sites. I came across this on Perez the other day and fell in love with it. I dare you not to like it.

I Swear, It Wasn't My Fault

So I was already to get back on the blogging bandwagon and then my computer just up and died. And then Best Buy held it hostage for two weeks while they alledgedly "fixed it". Only when I picked it up, it was not fixed. And so then there were some angry words and another trip back to Best Buy and we are now up and running. I'd like to go on the record and say that those rat bastards at the Geek Squad will never touch my laptop again. Never. But the good news is that the trusty computer is back! Hoo to the ray!

On to the updates:

Becki's wedding in Palm Springs. Oh. My. Good. God. I'd never been to Palm Springs before but you can bet your sweet ass I'll be back. The hotel where the whole thing went down was absolutely gorgeous. Our whole crazy crew stayed there so each morning we would wake up and have breakfast in our jammies out on the lanai near the pool. When we weren't being the best bridesmaids ever (the brides words, not mine.), we were busy getting manis and pedis, playing in the pool or laughing our asses off. The whole weekend was catered by Chef Tony who whipped up some of the most delicious meals. The ceremony was held at a darling church and was lovely. The reception was poolside and I still can't believe no one fell into the pool while dancing.

Because there was quite a bit of dancing. And the dancing was combined with a bit of wine. And champagne. Because my people know how to do weddings.

In other news, I'm about 2 weeks from closing on the new house. The inspection went well given that the house is more than 100 years old. But it did need a new roof and a few other minor things so the seller's are taking care of all of that prior to closing. Because I am nothing if not a fierce negotiator. I was going to post a bunch of pictures but I'm a bit superstitious and I'm afraid that if I do that, something will go horribly wrong and I wont get the house and then those photos will be a sad reminder of the house I almost had. But because I'm also somewhat of a glutton for punishment....

The green will eventually change but it's fine for now. I sure do love this little bungalow. My heart literally skips a beat everytime I see that porch swing. *sigh*

The Big News

I went to Opening Day yesterday and as usual, it was awesome. It's easily one of my favorite days of the year and this year did not disappoint. The Rockies played well and beat the Phillies (taking a little shine off of their World Series win last fall). The pre-parties were all fun, the weather was gorgeous and I got a little color on my arms and face. I hung out with good friends, had a few beers and delighted in the return of the Boys of Summer.

But that's not the big news.

I spent today running around getting ready for Becki's wedding in Palm Springs next weekend. Maid of Honor dress: secured. Hair: cut and colored. Cute outfits for all of the festivities: laid out in the guest room waiting to be packed. I can't wait to spend 5 days hanging out with some of the coolest people I know...who just happen to be some of my oldest and dearest friends. If the weekend turns out to be anything like the last trip we all took (Vegas in 2006) then it's sure to be filled with tomfoolery and ballyhoo. I can't hardly wait.

But that's not the big news either.

Work is going well and I'm starting to feel less like the village idiot with each passing day. The learning curve is steep and I find myself getting frustrated by how much I don't know but I'm grateful every, single day to have a job. Especially one that I like. I know the feelings of overwhelming stupidity (due to being in a new role and learning a whole 'nother scope of the work) will continue to fade so that's helpful. And I really like the people I work with which is fantastic. Also, I have the world's greatest boss. And no, said boss doesn't read this blog so I'm not kissing up. I just respect the hell out of her and feel lucky to be learning from her. So work, it's going well.

But guess what? That's not the big news either. In fact, that's hardly news at all.

So the big news...it's big.

We're talking 1200 square feet big. With a lovely yard. And high ceilings. And gorgeous hardwood floors. And a charming built-in in the dining room. And a porch swing that is so darling it almost hurts.

We have the inspection on Monday and if all goes well I will be posting an obnoxious number of photos soon thereafter. Keep your fingers crossed around 5:30pm (Mountain time, of course) for good news and not the discovery that it's built on a sacred Indian burial ground. Because that's about the only thing that could ruin my 1906 Craftsman bungalow.