holy swizzle sticks, batman! get me a vodka tonic - STAT!

i'm not sure where to begin this post, because my brain is *fried.* i've had the worst week in months, with back to back meetings that required too much preparation, and i am burnt up after this kind of week.

and really, i don't have much to share. except, of course, my choice in legwear/footwear. frankly, it suits my mood. but it totally has me concerned that someone may try to drop a house on Jen.

It's a good excuse to smack him in the head with a frying pan...

I worked from home yesterday, all the while staring out into the empty living room in our house. We finally had the hardwood floors refinished and the Pretend Husband said we could begin moving furniture in that evening. Finally, I couldn't take the big, empty room any longer and began moving in a rug, then a lamp, then an end table... until all it needed when the PH got home was the couch.

So, last night, amid some grunting, a lot of groaning and definitely some filthy words, the two of us got the couch into the living room. We paused to vacuum it off, then I lit the candles in the fireplace and the four of us (the PH, Molly, Casey and moi) collapsed onto it. The lights were off, the candles were glowing in the fireplace, we were nestled together as a little family... and the PH kept jumping up to move things or clean things or list off everything that still has to be done to the house.

Every.single.time I tried to point out how much we had accomplished and perhaps bask in the glow of that accomplishment a little, the PH interrupted me to talk about what hadn't been done yet. So, in the glow of the candles, cuddled up with the dogs for the first time in our new living room, I began to plan ways to incapacitate my husband. He's going to learn to enjoy those moments even if one of us has to die trying!

I suggested keeping a bucket by the bed...

Years ago, the Pretend Husband and I lived in this tiny little cottage that was "quaint" but also "freezing" because the heater didn't work properly most of the time. And we so looked forward to buying a house together (a house with luxuries like "space to maneuver without stepping on Molly" and "heat that worked.") And when we got that house, we dreamed of someday living in a bigger house that we could fix up ourselves and bring our future children home to.

And now we have that house. We've slaved over that house and celebrated such milestones as "only having to paint the bedroom twice before agreeing on the color," "not chopping off any appendages while using tools ourselves" and "figuring out where that gushing water is coming from with a minimal amount of damage." Sounds so perfect, right?

Well, let me tell you about my weekend. Although we are living in the master bedroom on the second floor of the house, the only working bathroom is in the in-law apartment off the back of the first floor of the house. Not a problem because they are connected through the house's living room so the PH only has to go down a flight of stairs, go through the living room, walk into the apartment and find the bathroom.

Except this weekend, we had the floors in the living room refinished. Which meant to get to the only working bathroom in the house (as well as the only working kitchen and only working TV), we had to go out the front door of the house, around the corner through the snow, up onto a deck and into the apartment. Imagine what the neighbors thought each time they spotted me running through the yard with wet hair, wearing a bathrobe and rubber boots (although maybe they didn't think too much of it since I happened to be running by the canons my dad has guarding the yard, so how weird do I look next to that?)

Luckily, our trek outside through the snow ended this morning once the final coat of polyurethane was dry enough for us to walk on the floors. But now before I left the house, walked around outside, walked into the apartment, remembered something I left upstairs in our bedroom, walked back around outside, walked into the house, walked up the stairs, walked back down, walked back around and re-entered the apartment (rinse and repeat just about every freakin' day). Oh, and not before the PH told me his plan in case he had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night... which was to walk to one of the windows in our bedroom, open it and pee out. Seriously, how have our neighbors not all moved away by now?!?

I'd like to thank the Academy... and Sam

I won an award! I'm so honored... although I suspect that this one will be a particular challenge.

I won this:



Which is totally awesome. Thank you, Sam! I heart you and your awesome blog...

But there are rules to follow, kids, so I can't get ahead of myself. I have to do these things:

A) first list 10 honest things about yourself - and make it interesting, even if you have to dig deep!
B) pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you feel embody the spirit of the Honest Scrap."

This is going to be tricky, because I have been telling you all too much about myself for a long time now. What could you *possibly* not know?

well, let's give it a whirl, shall we?

SJ's 10 Honest Confessions
1) I am a nester, a packrat and a mess. I accumulate crap so much - I have no idea where it all comes from. But I collect things in piles, and when I clean, I tend to go in the opposite direction and trash large amounts of things (though not blindly, because I also tend to take DAYS to fill two garbage bags).

2) I am terrified of being alone at night -- and being alone in general. When j is traveling, I keep the light on downstairs, and usually can't fall asleep without a few glasses of wine. While I would never remarry, I would likely have a string of bad relationships. I say this based on previous experience.

3) I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I don't plan to stay in my current field beyond the next two years. I'm hoping my next job allows me to work in sweat pants and on my couch.

4) I am a fairly private person -- well, you know... except for all of the crap I spill on the blog. But I can count on one hand the people that know my deepest, darkest thoughts and secrets. I am afraid of any one person knowing me too well, so I tend to share only small pieces of things to those five.

5) If a can of frosting is left in the fridge, I will eat it. Ergo, I only make homemade frosting.

6) I have a deep and passionate lust for DVF clothing, though my closet is limited to just one dress and one skirt. But my closet bursts forth with another 12 black dresses, 4 black skirts, and another half dozen shirt dresses of varying color and pattern.

7) I have used the power of my cleavage to my advantage, and I likely will again.

8) I am easily grated by people who claim to be addicted to exercise. In fact, I can't stand those people.

9) I hate meeting new people, and have intense anxiety about going to new places and being forced to mingle. I'd prefer to pluck out every single one of my eyelashes.

10) I cannot drink out of a bottle that someone else is drinking out of -- no matter who it is. The idea of drinking someone's backwash is enough to turn my stomach.

And now I must tag and offer this award up to 7 deserving bloggy buddies... which is tricky. Because some of my favorite people to tag have already been tagged a million times. So, I'm going to emphasize new and old favorite bloggers worthy of such an award:

srg
TishTash
Muffy
Stephanie
Geiger Girl
KAT (is it cheating if I tag my co-blogger? I submit not.)
Chris

Look out for me, Leo Dicaprio.

so. i bought myself something. a necklace. one that i would wear all the time and it would remind me of my grandmother. her stone was blue topaz -- her eyes were the color of the stone. she liked big funky rings, etc. but I thought a necklace would be most suitable.

well.

now i'm terrified of going on cruises, for fear of an iceberg.

because i may have accidentally purchased the heart of the ocean.



i mean. i'd never buy anything heart shaped. but when two different people started singing the lyrics to "My Heart Will Go On" when they saw it, it's enough to concern me.