Happy Awkward Anniversary

Yesterday Was the Four Year Anniversary of Our Engagement

Which means that TODAY is the 4 year anniversary of us being in so much shock that we couldn't look at or talk to each other for the whole day.

Ah, memories.

My Brilliant Irrational Side

It's time for my 60,000 mile tune up. Which means $1,000 (that I don't have) to replace worn parts on my car.*

Don't get me wrong, i LOVE my gas guzzling suv.


But a part of me keeps pointing out if i sold it, i could pay off my student loans AND have enough leftover to buy a scooter.

Sigh.

*and don't even get me started on the new tires i need.

Don't Actually Eat it Though...

I recently splurged on a pair of polka dot flannel sheets.

Much to husband's relief, i bought the "masculine" set.
[yes, i realize i am using this term too loosely, but eh, i wasn't really concerned about his feelings on this]

Words cannot express how happy i am everytime i see them/climb into bed.

It's like sleeping in a sprinkles cupcake!
[see, doesn't get any more butch than that, right?]

After several attempts to take a picture to show you people, I have come to the conclusion that I must have been drunk this morning, because this is the best pic i got:


and i show you this terrible photo for a reason:
When we moved up here, my parents gave me the best gift a southerner stuck in wisconsin could get, a SUPER warm comforter and an electric tea kettle.

So even when it gets to be -15 outside, I can sip delicious hot beverages and snuggle under a canvas of downy goodness.

Unfortunately, my unwillingness to commit to purchases has caused us to never own a duvet, and we've been sleeping under the bare comforter for a full year know.
I know it's been a year, because I was lamenting about my lack of duvet, and my coworker called me out on it and pointed out that i said the EXACT same thing this time last year.

Yes, woe is me. I cannot find a beautiful comforter that i have been able to justify paying for. Don't I just have the hardest life?

So, interwebbers, I need your suggestions. Link me some awesome duvets! My tastes cover an entire spectrum of ranges, so there is no wrong answer.

And mom and dad, better start hitting the Pottery Barn outlets and giving me a full report on whats available :)

I'll be here, sitting in my cupcake, awaiting your response.

This WILL Be Mine by Spring

gorgeous.
under two grand.
this scooter makes me believe in love again.

Don't Fear the Reaper

And by 'reaper', of course i mean dentist

So, i had hinted in a prevoius post that i recently received some bad news from el diablo.
and by 'el diablo', of course i mean dentist.

When i was a kid, my parents were friends with our family dentist. I felt entirely comfortable going there regularly. She even had redhair! it felt like an extension of our family. An extension with sharp, scary pokey tools, but family nonetheless.

However, when I was 8, i had to get my first filling. Sadly, i was excited about it. My older brothers had both gotten them, and i had brilliantly deduced that fillings meant you were cool.

There i was, lying in a chair, looking up at a person i had previously trusted completely. And she took a DRILL and started hacking away at my MOUTH

i couldn't believe it! I just thought getting a cavity meant that they numbed your mouth and you got to talk funny for a couple hours. Who knew they were going to torture you first!?

Here's the kicker. They hadn't given me enough novocaine. And eight year-old me didn't want to be rude and interrupt her, so i just sat there feeling everything.

it.was.horrible. My dentist/patient relationship changed right then and there.

As a child i brushed daily, but it was a half-assed attempt.

In college, i may or may not have passed out a few too many nights before getting the chance to brush the ol' teeth.

Like every other co-ed i knew, I would go to the dentist around christmas and easter. For the mere fact that i was home and could guilt my parents into paying for the dentist visits.

I was like every other god-fearing american. I would neglect my teeth for 6mths, then brush thoroughly the night before, and sit in the chair and act surprised when the dentist told me my mouth was in bad shape.

"What? I have cavaties? That's weird because i floss everyday! "
they didn't need to know that that tradition had only started 12hrs ago...


When i became an adult*, i went to my first denist appt with my very own dental insurance! The dentist had some super high-tech equipment that apparently detects cavities when they are in their zygote phase. And he was nice enough to tell me that i had ELEVEN cavities! i could hear the "cha-ching" sounds going off in his head as he told me the estimate.

I knew exactly how to handle this information maturely and responsibly:

i quit my job, lost my insurance, and didn't go to the dentist for the next 3 years.

This year though, i could put it off no longer.
Fortunately, for the past 3 years, I have been DILIGENT about proper oral hygiene. I brush twice a day with an electric tooth brush. I floss every night. And I even use fluoride mouthwash. Seriously, i am the tooth nazi.

However, once you have cavities, you can't brush them away, so it wasn't really a shock when the dentist gave me the same news i had gotten 3 years ago.

This dentist will be able to build a nice addition to his house by the time he is done with my mouth :/

The thing that is most infuriating, is that i brush regularly, and it's basically hopeless. I really think I am prone to cavities, and it's genetics. Husbands eats way more sugars and sodas than me, and he remembers to brush his teeth about 50% of the time. AND HE'S NEVER HAD A CAVITY.

Anyhoo. Today was round 1 of fillings. My entire mouth is numb. My lips and tongue keep bumping into each other, and i have a very attractive pile of drool forming on my chin.

Needless to say, i am looking super attractive right now, and you all are jealous.

*and i use that term VERY loosely, because i am still waiting to grow-up

Fashion is Not in My Genetic Code

On my last day at home, my mom and I went shopping. We were perusing tj maxx, when mom held up two pairs of jeans and asked me which ones I liked [for her]. One pair was boot cut dark wash, and the other was relaxed fit light blue.

Without even needing to see them, I said, "the darker ones. Don't even try the other ones on"

My mom, ever the quick repsonder, said, "But, i don't have any tops that match the dark one. With the light one I can wear my blue jean shirt and jacket"

"MOM. you NEVER wear blue jean tops and bottoms!"

"well, sure you do. I do it all the time!"


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Just Breathe.

Obviously, I had disappeared from the blog world for awhile.

If you don't follow my facebook or twitter page, then you might wonder where I've been.

Two weeks ago, I was at the dentist (where i got the horrific/hilarious news that mouth has 14 cavities...), when my brother called.

He told my that my dad was at the hospital, and having emergency open heart surgery in two days.


Here's the very important thing: he had shown no symptoms.

There had been no heart attack, no shortness of breathe, or difficulty exercising.

He merely went in for a routine test and they didn't like what they saw. After running a couple more tests, they wouldn't let him out of the bed, much less the hospital.

I really don't remember anything else about that day. I know I got home somehow, and that i managed to call work and book a flight home; but it's all a blur.

With the help of my Husband, I was able to rush home the next day so that I could spend time with my dad before the surgery. He was lying on a bed, watching the hours tick by before they were going to cut him open and operate on his heart.

I.was.terrified.

I am not exaggerating when I say, my dad is my best friend. I talk to him almost everyday, and while every other female i know went through obligatory teenage drama with their fathers, that never happened to us. (and my high school friends can attest to that). My looks and over-the-top personality i got from my mom...but my sense of humor is strictly my dad's.

I kept thinking about the one thing no one was supposed to mention: 'What if i never get to see him again?'

I made myself physically ill with worry. But it wasn't needed, because my dad's a fighter. He had no intention of leaving us. The surgery was successful, and they did a double bypass. For the next 7 days, we sat in icu and waited until we could take him home. I felt like i was holding my breath, and when we got him home, I finally got to breathe for the first time.

I have the credit my amazing job because they allowed me to stay here for 3 weeks to help out.

My dad's a retired chef, and we needed someone to cook the meals, drive him to his appointments, and help keep the house in tact... I don't think any of us realized exactly how much dad does around here. Clearly, I'm not as good as dad...but everyone's been a good sport.

Now, we're working on his recuperation. The main focus is exercise and a low-sodium diet. He's doing well, but get's exhuasted pretty easily. Everyday there's a little more progress. I'll be here for another week to help out, and I'm more than happy to help. I keep reminding the parents that i'd be useless with worry up in wisconsin, so I am might as well be nearby helping.

It's surreal being back home. I don't know anyone that still lives in town, so i've been spending all my time at home. Today, i thought i had insomnia...but then i realized everyone had gone to bed before 9:30.

There's at least one benefit to being home: Embarrassing loved ones





more photos to come. and i'll keep you posted on how dad's doing too.