A whirling dervish of cleanliness

It’s been a whirlwind of cleaning and packing and cleaning some more these past few days (with wedding planning and the making of save the date cards thrown in for variety’s sake). I got a phone call from our landlord yesterday that led to– you guessed it– more packing and more cleaning.

Our landlords set up an appointment to show our place to prospective tenants at 9 a.m. this morning, which meant a couple of things for me:
– The possible new tenants may not appreciate a 13-pound greeter at the door who would likely follow them around jumping on the backs of their legs. And our landlord probably wouldn’t like having Molly spill the beans (“The dryer broke the other night, I wake up cold four out of seven mornings and Mom had to shower at their place when we were left without water. So, when do you move in?”) So the Peekapoo is at work with me today.
– I’m not usually out of the house by 9 a.m. So I had an early morning that involved not only my regular routine, but little touches like sponging down the sink and opening all the blinds to make the place look bigger than the interior of a minivan. But I’m proud to say that I got out the door this morning with Molly, 10 pounds of her accessories, my laptop and purse by 8:45 a.m.
– Our place wasn’t exactly in showcase condition, leading to the aforementioned cleaning and packing and cleaning some more. As I was on my fifth hour of cleaning last night and sweeping up dirt in the kitchen, the Pretend Husband asked from the couch, “Are you trying to make up for a year of not cleaning in one night?” And I punched him in the head to make sure he’ll never ask that again. The End.

Actually, I didn’t punch him in the head, but let’s just say he’s a very lucky man that I was able to restrain myself from using the broom in some of the creative ways that ran through my head. We talked about his little gem of a comment last night before bed and he promised to never pick on my awesome cleaning and organizational skills again. Or, at the least, not to laugh when I claim to have them.

But enough about me. Here’s what you really came for…

I think we passed the parenting test.

I had a soccer game at 10:15 p.m. last night (you don’t have to question my sanity for playing soccer that late on a Sunday night– I question it every week), which means the Pretend Husband (the very dedicated PH because he comes to most of my games) and I didn’t get home until just before midnight.

Walking into the house, the PH commented, “Did the dog poop in here? It smells like poop.”

“Of course not. She hasn’t done that since she was really little. You must be imagining things.”

But, sure enough, there was a pile of… not poop, but vomit on the living room carpet. And there was poop in the bathroom.

While the PH thought Molly was just being a brat, I figured she really didn’t feel well and must have just exploded all over the house. As the PH was cleaning up the carpet and the bathroom, she threw up twice more, the poor thing, convincing the PH she really was sick.

Then I went upstairs and discovered four more piles of vomit. I began cleaning it up, but the PH came up and took over the cleaning duties while I caught even more vomit coming out of the little pup in a paper towel. Who knew a 13-pound dog had such a big stomach?!?

I felt like a mom at that point, especially as I held her furry ears back so they wouldn’t fall into the vomit just like my mom did for me (although it was my hair rather than my ears). And I think the PH felt like a dutiful dad as he scrubbed the carpeting.

Our night of fun did not end there although, thank goodness, the vomiting did. We weren’t able to go to bed until after our dryer malfunctioned and was still blowing hot air despite being off. I had to maneuver myself into a crawl space and unplug it before it stopped.

Molly seems to be feeling better today. As for the faint stains on the carpet and the malfunctioning dryer (and the lack of heat and no hot water we dealt with last week), well, we close on our new house on Friday anyway. This is probably the last time I’ll ever be able to say, “Let the landlord deal with it.”

How to Make Friends 101

Step one, if you stare at someone long enough, they’re bound to notice. That’s what happened to me this morning. I walked up some stairs behind a girl with fabulous suede boots on and could not stop looking at them. So as we walked across a plaza, I kept glancing over at her.

And every time I looked at her, I noticed she was looking back. It got to the point where I had to either explain why I was staring or just stop looking. But I took one more peek, which is when she said, “Stop looking at me, you freak! What is wrong with you?!?”

Actually, that’s not true (although I wouldn’t have blamed her in the least because it’s not comfortable to have a stranger stare at you, cute boots or not). What she said was, “I’m sorry for staring. I’m looking at your jeans.”

To which I replied, “I’ve been looking at your boots!” And a short conversation was struck up about where to shop for said jeans and boots. (And I’d like to point out here that I was wearing the questionably fashionable jeans that SJ and I cut and frayed at the bottoms. They’re practically homemade!)

And it’s not like I got her number or anything (would that have been weird?) but I bet I could have. And then I would have had a new friend… and a great story about how we met that didn't involve one of us being really mean about the other's clothing choice (ahem, SJ... remember that shirt you wore to the interview where we met? I still call awful!)

ah so.

this post is dedicated to my canadian friend ed. he uses that expression a lot, so i used it as my subject line.

i work in a fairly fast-paced and high pressure environment, so it's always good to have fun people that break up your day. for me, that person is ed. sure, we see each other every 4-6 months, and speak on the phone perhaps twice a year. but everyday, i can count on at least one gut-splitting funny instant message.

so they may not translate well into our blog (not because he speaks french-he may, although on a daily basis, with me at least, he speaks english, but rather, because they're mostly inside jokes about the cast of characters we work with), but i did want to give him a blog shout out, if you will. thanks, ed, for making everyday fun. i look forward to your little orange aim bubble on a daily basis.

aren't co-workers fun? two years ago, when i started my job, i meant to keep my distance because i never meant to stay as long as i have. but now, i work with such cool people, that they get me through it. do you have co-workers llike this? the kind that can tell exactly what thought you're not expressing by the height of your eyebrows? or perhaps the kind that you've developed a unique code complete with nicknames for all of the annoying personalities you work with (we have 'crazy bathroom talker lady' and 'ugg boot lady' and also 'The Metro' -- we also have some perhaps more mean names... like Mama Cass. But they are all well-deserved, I promise.

what about you? do you have any crazy coworker stories that you wish to share? (we LOVE sharing...)

Excuse me while I freak out a bit

Hey there. How’s it going? Good? Glad to hear it.

And me? You’re wondering how I’m doing? Nice of you to ask. Pretty well, actually. I went a little insane last week (you know how that is), but things are much better this week.

Why? Well, aren’t you sweet… It happened because we went and bought a house.

Yup, a house. A three-bedroom structure with a kitchen, more than one bathroom and even a big ol’ yard for the Pretend Husband to sharpen his mowing skills on. And the bonus is the full-sized stove.

Don’t go running into your kitchen, eye your stove and say something like, “Why can’t you be a full-sized stove?” Because it already is. See, we’ve been living in a teeny, tiny cottage for the past year and such small places need small appliances. We probably lucked out that it has a real refrigerator instead one of those mini-fridges you see in dorm rooms. But our humble (very humble!) abode does have an apartment-sized stove, which means the burners are all really close together and the oven fits one very small cookie sheet at a time.

So our home inspector thought we were crazy when both the PH and I ran to the stove and lovingly caressed it while talking about everything we’re going to be able to bake now. (A pie! A casserole! A 20-pound turkey! No, a 30-pounder! Forget that, a 40-pound turkey!) See? He knew we were crazy even without witnessing my oh-my-god-what-did-we-do?-we’re-in-such-debt-what-were-we-thinking?!? episode a few days before. Luckily, the PH works with people like me all the time and was able to smooth things over. (Here is probably where I should mention that he’s an attorney and not a mental hospital administrator or anything…)

Anyway, the house. It’s great! It’s beautiful! (well, except for the wallpaper and the mauve carpet and the upstairs carpeting and the wood paneling in the bathroom. But it will be beautiful when we’re through with it). It’s much bigger than where we’re living now! It has a soon-to-be-fenced-in yard for Molly! And, most importantly, it’s ours!

And that’s what has been happening with us. If you need me, I’ll be in the corner wondering how to pay the mortgage.

i am a slacker.

i'm sorry.

i really am.

kat has been pulling all the weight for the past several weeks all because google hates me. there. i said it.

i've tried to switch my account like all of 2 times in the past week and each time, i've encountered problems. okay - so maybe you've picked up my quasi-sarcasm here. i could have tried a little harder. the irony here is that i spend my day working with things like SQL queries and directing others how to use technology. hehe.

oh well.

so clearly my new year's resolution is already out the window (1. blog more.) so number 2 is now "spend less time in the emergency room." last year, i spent no less than 24 hours in the emergency room (you have to add them all up, but still. that's a lot.) item number 3 is keep in better touch with my friends (expect a call, stac!) that i miss and spend too little time with.

and item number 4 was supposed to be "spend less time at work." i'm not doing so good there, either.

if i could in fact put a reset button to restart the year for february, i would.

but now i'm back on and i promise to recap some of the crazy things i learned over the past few weeks, such as:
it is harder than you'd think to tune an electric guitar.
i won ugly sweater day. (thanks to my norton mcnaughton turquoise fringed sweater - which i was just too lazy to return.)

and ponder this - is it impolite to assign new years resolutions to others?

Darn, it’s KAT again!

I know, I know. You came to this blog and were excited for a moment to see there’s a new post up (twice in one week! Yay for me and my lack of work to keep me otherwise occupied!). But then, to your dismay, you notice it’s from KAT and not from SJ. Sorry about that, folks.

I suspect SJ is still a little bit locked out of the blog. I’m not sure because she’s no longer speaking to me. Yup, 18 years of friendship, countless times of me fighting people on the playground to defend her honor, getting ordained so she would have a last minute fill-in for her sick pastor and that time I was her birthing coach while J was caught in a snowstorm in Milwaukee… all over because of this blog.

Wow, KAT, the drama! None of the above is true, of course. Well, except for SJ being locked out of Funny Gals. She appears to be closer to a solution, however. And in the meantime, I will keep you entertained with
stories about getting waxed, photos of Molly and and the tear-jerking account of our engagement.

Just kidding! I’m over that stuff (for now). I am all about talking (i.e. whining) about this new diet I put myself on. It’s been really, really hard, but I’ve stuck with it and I feel like it’s starting to pay off. Cause, you know, I’ve been on it for about 30 hours now (but it feels like much longer!)

For those of you playing along, it’s the two-week Special K diet that includes cereal for two meals a day and then a healthy third meal (tonight, that means tacos for dinner. I can’t wait!) You’re also allowed two snacks a day, fruit and veggies for additional snacks and all the beverages you can fit. So it’s not exactly huge sacrifices (although I suspect they don’t mean “chocolate milkshake” when they mention “beverages”).

And it’s not going too badly. I haven’t gotten really hungry because I’m still able to have an orange, some pudding or a big bowl of ice cream for a snack between meals (just kidding about that last one, although it’s tempting…) We’ll have to see if it works. If it does, guess what I’ll be doing two weeks before the wedding?

Bridal H-E-Double Hockey Sticks

I’m not a girly girl. I like things simple. I am apparently a pretty shocking bride-to-be because of my lack of a desire for a shower (“but then you won’t get stuff!”) or a “real” bridal gown. I’m more focused on the fact that I get to marry the Pretend Husband than I am on the party to celebrate our marriage.

Which is why it’s kind of funny that I spent so much time at a bridal fair yesterday. I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel about spending a couple of hours bumping into a thousand other brides-to-be and their mothers and their sisters and their best friends. It wasn’t the most miserable thing I’ve ever done, but it wasn’t the most fun either (that may have been playing Laser Tag the night before to celebrate a friend’s 30th birthday). I’ve vowed never to do it again (the bridal show, not the Laser Tag).

People are crazy. I was all, “Hmmm, let’s walk around, maybe enter some raffles, pick up some brochures and perhaps try some cake.” The other 800 brides-to-be were all, “Ohmygod, I can’t believe I’m getting maaaaaarrrrrried and I made special address labels so I can enter every raffle faster and where’s my best friend, her job as maid of honor is to serve me, and I have to have those cute bride and groom teddy bears and let’s crowd around every booth and collect as much free stuff as we can.” And the moms of the brides-to-be were all, “My little girl is the most important one in the room and I’m going to use my humungous purse as a weapon if that’s what’s needed to get her and all eight of her bridesmaids into the booth they want to visit.”

I’m bruised from the experience, people. In fact, I got more beat up at the bridal fair than I did in my soccer game last night. Brides are ka-ray-zee.

On a positive note, the PH and his friend wheeled and dealed with the tux companies and got some great deal that gets them a huge percentage off the tuxes they will rent to be in each other’s weddings. And we got some great ideas for a honeymoon destination.

After that experience, I’m all the more determined to be the blog-writing, soccer-playing funny gal who happens to be planning a wedding instead of the crazy, demanding, fast-talking bride to be who can’t wait to be the princess for a day who gets to order her friends to do stuff for her and be the center of attention and oh, that’s right, marry her fiancé too. I just don’t look that good in a tiara.

Whew! Two days of work has worn me out!

I’ve been a little lax in posting lately and I take responsibility for that. You may have also noticed a lack of posts from SJ and I’m going to have to take responsibility for that too. It’s all technical and boring and I don’t understand it either, but I seem to have locked SJ out of her own blog! A few emails later (we rarely talk in person…), we seem to have figured out the problem.

SJ is going to suit up in her best Mission Impossible black Ninja outfit tonight and try to break into the blog, despite the best security known to Google. So we hope to have her back at the helm or the wheel or the bridge (for you Trekkies) soon. Godspeed, SJ!

I have all sorts of exciting posts planned for this year, including some resolutions (I resolve to not work so hard. There, that post is taken care of) and some suggestions for other blogs you might want to check out. Not that I’m trying to steer you away from Funnygals or anything, but perhaps you want to be able to check out other sites and tell us how much funnier we are or you have a couple of minutes (or hours) of free time at work and aren’t sure what else you can do at your computer to look busy (not that I know what that’s like or anything).

But for now, I have to get back to work since I’m only working two days this week and actually have some work I have to get done before I knock back for a couple days of– I think we can all agree– well-deserved rest.