38 and packing.

You guys, when I say that things have been chaotic, I'm not kidding. Matt and I are trying to get everything done and not stress out about life. Here are some things on the plate:

⭐I turn 38 on Tuesday. Normally I'm super excited, with a birthday wish list and specific cake demands but this year I'm so out of whack and my concept of time is seemingly getting worse. Unfortunate, because that's a skill you use a lot. As of right now there are no plans and that's OK.

⭐We are still moving. We have a lot of things to do (and buy) this weekend so that Matt can just move along with his tasks. He's making a bedroom for us in the basement there and so far he has two walls insulated and drywall up. He has the other two walls to do and then the process of taping, mudding, sanding, etc. He hates it but.. its gotta get done. The goal is to have that room basically done by the time we get back.

Yes, I realize that's a lofty goals but that's what goals are for!

In the meantime, we have been making loads every day of stuff and I've been unpacking as I go as much as I can.

We've had the kids there (mostly on the weekends) as we work so Matt brought over a TV and antennae so we can at least give them local channels. Shout out to PBS for having a non-stop cartoon channel now! 

Also shout out to Olivia and Jackson who have been so GREAT about all of this and incredibly helpful at keeping Penelope and Lucy out of the way. Mostly. 

I splurged last week on clearance dishes at Walmart and for a whole $18 I walked out with two boxes. It's really great because the dishes we currently have are pretty heavy and hard for Pep & Lu to carry, resulting in a bunch being broken. It was time for new ones so I'm really glad I just happened to get there during a last clearance sale, getting the last box of each color. 

Penelope and Lucy currently have a huge closet with so much storage, I've always been jealous of it. Unfortunately that means it can also be chock full of crap, and that's exactly what happened here. 

It took me THREE DAYS to clear everything out of here, sort it into piles: give to a friend, donate, garbage, keep. The best part of downsizing (a lot) is that its forcing me to really get rid of stuff and while my anxiety is overwhelmed right now, I know its for the best. 

So confession time. I've only moved as an adult three other times, this will be my fourth. Each time I've discovered I have an issue with towels. Both kitchen and bath towels. I cannot bring them place to place.

(Yes, I know this is dumb. No, I don't know why.)

I inadvertently bought new kitchen towels and washcloths the other day and as I was folding them it dawned on me that I did it again. Add it to the list of compulsive behaviors, I guess but it's annoying. It isn't so bad this time because the ones we currently have are ripped and some are so thin you can see through them, so the only ones legitimately worth keeping are the industrial ones I use for cleaning. It's just another strange habit.

Oh, and I have been saving cash for TWO YEARS so that we could buy new furniture. What we have is worn down and Matt said he refuses to sew it together one more time (ladies, get you a man who can sew furniture together). The furniture we have is BIG and HEAVY, but it also will not fit into our new space. I think we can get it in there (it would be a squeeze, that's for sure), but you couldn't have anything else in there. We decided to take the little bit we had saved already (just under $500) and find something smaller. A lot smaller. 

With my super shopping skills I managed to get us a small couch for what I thought was $300. I was so proud of myself and I paid the extra $100 for them to deliver it. 

So imagine my surprise when I was informed that in my online purchase I also bought a love seat/chair and a half thing. (It's maybe the smallest love seat I have ever been on.) The price I paid was accurate, it turns out this was a bargain clearance buy. So $400 total for a super small couch and this love seat/chair thing. The rest of the furniture fund will go into savings. Our current furniture will go to Matt's sister and brother, which will be good because now we don't have to figure out what to do with it.

While waiting for that stuff to come I sorted kid books. I wish I had taken a before photo of what our collection looked like because it was easily five times this. I could have filled this several times and still needed more room. Olivia and Jackson have novels of their own but they will keep those in their room, this is just for Penelope and Lucy. Don't judge- we read a LOT of books here.

We clearly downsized and I donated books to school, do little libraries all over town, and gave some to friends.

Monday I'll have a post about the upcoming trip Olivia and I are going on, we leave next Saturday! I'm excited and incredibly nervous because I'm still not feeling awesome. I have to spend some time this weekend packing I think. Olivia has her first dance competition of the season this weekend.

It's just a lot, all of the time.

The Birthday Wish List: age 37

Every year I do a wish list for Christmas but I like doing the birthday wish list the most because birthdays are a big deal. I have always liked my birthday and wanted to celebrate it but since having Lucy and dying on the table, it gives a new meaning. I don't know if you watch The View, sometimes I do, but Whoopi Goldberg often says we should all cherish and celebrate our birthdays because there are so many who can't. I have never understood the people who lie about their age, I've worked HARD to get to age 37 and dammit, I want presents.

Disclosure: I'm pretty sure this was my brother's first birthday but who cares- I'm completely adorable. Secondly, I see so much Penelope and Lucy here so obviously they will end up awesome. 

1. Laminator: One of my favorite things of all time are office supplies. Give me a catalog and I will go through it page by page and I will come up with a reason that I need all the things. But truly, I could really use a laminator. I've been trying to do activities with the little girls that this would come in handy but also, I've come across things and wish I could just laminate it.

https://amzn.to/2Hf1Vy9

2. Flat Iron: It's almost embarrassing to say that I need a flat iron. AGAIN. I'm not kidding you, my hair is SO thick and SO wavy/curly that most tools just can't handle it. Hell, I can't handle it yet here I am. But here I am... I need a new one. But I need one that's wide so it doesn't take three hours to do my hair. 

3. DNA Test: I so badly want to do one of these just to see if anything pops up that would be a clue into all of my bizarre health issues. 

4. Block Shot: I read the first book in this series and LOVED IT so I really want to read this one! 

 5. Back Seat Coolers (4): We are going on a road trip this summer and now that I have a slightly smaller vehicle (it doesn't have the floor area that my van did) I'm looking for storage solutions to carry snacks/drinks. How cool are these? I could have one per kid and it would be great! 

6. Birkenstock Sandals: I don't know what my size would be in these so I'd have to try them on and I'm not completely sure what color I want, some version of brown, but I'm all about shoes I don't have to tie or do anything to get them on. 

I'm going to treat myself and get a hair cut in mid-March and I'm pretty excited about it. I want to get highlights but I have to find out how much that will cost and set a little money aside. If you could pick a birthday gift right now, what would it be? 

36: It's where I'm at.

So over the weekend I celebrated my 36 birthday and it was pretty alright. The big kids went with my inlaws to the Twin Cities area to be tourists and do fun stuff so they weren't around to help me eat cake. 

Which works out because I don't like sharing my cake. 

But I got presents! I got some really cool presents this year! 

 My friend Penny got me the socks I wanted! There is almost nothing better than new socks and I have eight days of new sock cushy goodness. It was pretty great to get that fun package in the mail. 

 My friend Tammy took me out for dinner for some pizza and got me these gems. A fun mug for my cocoa, an Alice in Wonderland silk scarf, a fun saying for my bookshelf, chocolate, and a travel perfume (not shown) for my purse! She always gets me the best stuff. 

 Matt got me a Silhouette Cameo 3, which I apparently asked for but I have no memory of that. I'm not totally sure what I will do with it but it looks fun!

My parents got me a bike!!!! It's not this exact one, but pretty close. Instead of tan mine is more creamy white, and I have a basket, cup holder for my water bottle, a phone holder, and the back has a little bag to hold stuff in it. I'm so excited about this because I've wanted a bike for awhile I just never could justify spending the money to get one. My mom always knows exactly what to get me and thankfully my dad was home last weekend to go buy it and get it to our house. It's been in my garage for a week and I had no idea! 

My inlaw's got me an insulated water bottle and a gift card to Kohl's to get some new clothes, which I'm going to use with the $40 Kohl's cash I have and my coupon! I love, love, love gift cards.

 My friend Andrea got me a water bottle (smart because now I can rotate them), more socks (!!!), and the arm band for my phone I want/needed, and a Dory Funko Pop! character for my shelf. She sits proudly right next to my books for review.

Earlier in the day I had to go get a head shot done, which is so weird to say, for the Duluth Moms Blog. I'll be a contributing writer over there and I'll get you links and all of that once things start moving.

But I had to do my hair AND makeup and you guys, I used bronzer. It's a big deal and I'm a little orangey but I did manage to not look like Tara Reid fresh out of the fake tan bed.

It was a fun experience and I got to meet the other new writers, and it's so exciting. I did it on a whim and because people tagged me in it no less than 20 times in their "Calling All Writers" post and now I feel kind of sick, like I won't be able to come up with stuff to write about. But it is only a once a month article commitment so I should be fine.

I'll totally be fine and not nervous at all. 

The worst birthday I have ever had.

This will likely be long so if  you're up to it, grab a snack.

My entire life I have really tried to live by the golden rule of treating others the way you want to be treated. Sometimes I fail, sometimes I take the easy way around it, but most of the time I live by that. I try to treat my family and friends really well. Even when I can't afford it, I send a card and/or a gift. Sometimes I fail and resort to a Facebook message or email. If anyone has ever needed something or someone, I have always dropped what I had going on and been right there. I feel like I'm a really great friend. I feel like I'm a really quality person for someone else to have in their life. I feel like no matter what is going on, the people who know me know that if they need me, I'll be right there. I'll help you bury that body and while I might have some basic questions, I won't judge. I support everyone in my life to the best of my ability. I bend over backwards and go beyond what is asked of me a lot of times and I just really assume that it would always be reciprocated. I know this year I've really slacked because of my depression but I'm really trying.

Until it's not. And it leaves me questioning basic relationships and wondering if all of my time and effort is for absolute nothing.

It's no secret that I have been dealing with some pretty severe depression. I finally relented and started taking the Lexapro I was prescribed despite my fears of birth defects because the truth of the matter is that there have been some scary days for me. And it was enough to warrant me to take a gamble because at the end of the day, I'm worth something to my family. I hope.

But last week, and this isn't totally related and I might have a separate post about it another day, Joey Feek lost her battle to cervical cancer. If you don't know her, she's one half of the bluegrass country duo, Joey + Rory and I'm pretty sure everyone's Facebook feeds had shares of Rory's blog posts that are just heartbreaking yet beautiful and honestly, your end goal in a life partner should be to find someone who loves you like Rory loves Joey. But her death, though we all knew it was coming for awhile now, hit me really hard in a really strange way. I got to wondering what would happen if I died? Would there be just a handful of people who thought to show up to a memorial? Would there even be one? Or would lots come out of the woodwork to tell my remaining family what I meant to them at one point in their lives? I'm not sure. So really since last week I have been in what is easily the darkest days I have ever experienced in my life.

So I did a little experiment. I purposely didn't mention my upcoming birthday. Unlike past years where I have essentially planned my own birthday party or celebration, told Matt where I'd like to go for dinner, eagerly gave people a gift list, etc- this year I did nothing. I said not a word. I will admit, Matt did say something last week about dinner and I said I didn't know, and that we could do whatever. I really wanted to see what would happen if I didn't force people to celebrate.

And I should just insert here that I am not, nor will I ever be, that person who dreads a birthday. Aging doesn't scare me, but death does. I'm aging appropriately, I'm not upset about wrinkles and cellulite that isn't going anywhere. The varicose veins I have popping up on my legs, the stiffness of my knees, the complete exhaustion, none of that bothers me. I'm graciously welcoming new phases of my life and I'm totally OK with all of it. It's bound to happen and I don't want to be that person gripping the last straws of my youth in the sad way so many do. But when I was a kid, we didn't have the money for birthday parties. I didn't really have friends, and even as I got older, I was a bit of a loner. I had a few friends but I wasn't invited to things and I was more of that sit-next-to-her-and-be-nice-because-she's-smart friend but once the bell rang, I was long forgotten. So as an adult, when I can control what I get to do to celebrate, I always want it to be fun and have a good time.

Needless to say, none of that happened.

Olivia and Jackson woke me up at 6 a.m. singing happy birthday and gave me the cards that they had quickly made that morning. They only knew it was my birthday because Matt had left me a card and my gift. Which, my "gift" was a candy bar.

No, I'm not kidding.

At first I was pretty upset because I don't care who you are, that's a really shitty, thoughtless gift. But then I thought, maybe he got me that as a lunch time treat and he will come home after work and I'll get a real gift over dinner. So I tried to not be mad, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't really upset.

Then my mom came over to watch Penelope so I could go volunteer at school, and she got me a gift- a pair of really funky, only-Sara-would-wear-them shoes with rainbow colored cats all over them. My mom ALWAYS gets me shoes because she knows I love shoes and these were pretty unique. Pretty much nobody will have these, and I'll post a picture soon. So I really thought things were picking up for the day. Not to mention my friend Andrea had given me an early present on Tuesday of candy (which I've already eaten, no shame), an amazing candle that makes my house smell like Lemon Pledge (and if you know me at all, you know that I would huff a can of Pledge if I didn't think I'd kill off half of my brain cells), and an Amazon gift card which I used to buy some outdoor toys for Penelope this summer so we can play outside in the sunshine.

Fast forward to dinner time and I hadn't planned anything for dinner because I assumed we would be going out somewhere. I had packed a bag of things for Penelope to eat/play with at the restaurant, and I was ready. Only to be asked what I was making for dinner by Matt.

No, I'm not kidding.

I sat there, stunned, and the kids were looking at me as I started to silently cry and wonder if I really meant this little that I couldn't even have a birthday dinner. He must have realized he screwed up along the way because he quickly said he did remember to buy me a cake but let's be honest, the damage was done. I ended up giving the kids each hug and kiss, told them thank you for their cards, and told them they can definitely have a piece of birthday cake after they have some cereal for dinner.

I went upstairs, cried for a solid 20 minutes in the shower, and went to bed.

About two, almost three hours later, Matt comes up and asks if I would like anything for dinner. I said no, it's fine, I'll just eat the remaining crackers I have next to the bed for morning sickness. He then gets angry with me  because I didn't tell him what I wanted for my birthday.

Admittedly, I lost my shit. I had absolutely had it. I couldn't hold it in and if I hurt feelings? Well it felt really fucking good.

I said I didn't think it was right how I bust my ass and save little bits of money on the side for MONTHS so I can make a fun family day for Father's Day, for his birthday, and all I get is a shitty card that I never think are funny and if it's a sappy one, I know for absolute sure he didn't read it but thought it would score him points, and a god damn candy bar.

WHAT KIND OF PERSON GETS THEIR WIFE A CANDY BAR AS A GIFT?!

And I'm not a selfish person, I really appreciate what people get me. I spent all day recognizing that yes, he either went out of his way to get it or he saw it and thought of me, and both of those are nice, good things. But in all of the years we've been together (14 now), I have ALWAYS made a big deal out of my birthday. I shouldn't have to spell something out as basic as "do something nice for someone's birthday". Frankly, that's common courtesy. That's just something you do as a decent human being. If you know you can do something to brighten another person's day, why would you not just automatically do it? It's just assumed that especially for your spouse, but certainly for friends, you should absolutely, 100%, ALWAYS do something nice for someone on their birthday of all days.

Except this year.

And he dropped the ball so hard it busted.

I swear to god, if he or anyone else asks me what they can do, I'm going TO LOSE MY MIND TOTALLY. Because that's the thing about depression folks, I don't know what I need. I don't know how to get better because if I did, I surely would have done it by now. Do people think I enjoy randomly bursting into tears in the middle of Walmart? The grocery store? I haven't even gotten groceries in 3 weeks because I can't not cry for a long enough stretch. I can talk to people until I'm blue in the face and I feel no better, oftentimes I feel exponentially worse. I'm trying to exercise, I'm trying to eat right, I try to get out into the sunshine every day. I'm trying to do things I normally love to do and I get bored and restless. I can't sleep at night, and when I do nap it's awful and you don't even want to know the things that go through my head.

I feel like I'm drowning and the person closest to me either doesn't recognize it or decides he does, but doesn't know what to do so he does nothing and hopes for the best. I finally said last night that if I died today, I don't even think he'd be upset. He'd be more upset trying to keep up with laundry and figuring out how to get the kids to/from school every day.

He wouldn't make it a week and he doesn't even care.

So needless to say- yesterday was a really bad day. Today isn't much better, but I'm trying so very hard to be positive. It's going to be almost 60 degrees today, so my plan is to get out and hope for the best. I have a lunch with a friend planned for tomorrow and I already bailed on her because I didn't feel good the last time, so I am absolutely going no matter how bad I feel. Jackson has a Boy Scout pancake breakfast in the morning and I'm going to try to not squeeze his cute little guts while watching him serve to people. Olivia has an all day honor choir thing she's at and we'll get to see her perform afterwards. Then Sunday.. Sunday I plan to be in my room with a stack of books and a notebook. All day. I think Saturday will drain every bit out of me and I'll need to be back to perky shape for the outside world on Monday. Because apparently, that's my role. Be perky all of the time and like it.

Happy birthday to ME.

I love birthdays. I love mine the most, admittedly. I usually try to plan a fun trip with friends but this year I didn't do that. Mostly because I'm pretty pregnant and I'm a lot broke, so it didn't feel right spending money on something so frivolous. The other side of the coin was that I just had a baby shower and I felt like if I did a birthday thing people would feel obligated to get me a gift and meh- not my style. But that's not to say no fun was had.

I got to go to lunch with my friend Cassandra. That was kind of great and it's nice to catch up. I had felt so crappy all morning, and I'll go into that in a bit, so I was sure my entire day was going to be shit. Lunch was so great though and it was so nice to catch up with someone who deals with a lot of the same things parenting wise, and just as a fledgling adult, as I do. So I left there feeling recharged for the rest of my day.

It ended up being short lived though, because after I got home I realized how disappointed that Matt basically has no concept of how to do nice things for someone. None. I mean, really, he has none. The night before, he took the kids to get my birthday gift. My kids are the sweetest kids ever, but sometimes they need some guidance because otherwise they pick out things and you have no idea what exactly their thought process was, and you're left feigning enthusiasm for a Bic lighter (even though you don't smoke) and a flashlight.

This year they picked out what is easily the ugliest, chunkiest, largest, gawdiest jewelry I have ever seen from Walmart. I mean, it's hideous. Nobody wears this crap and it's always on clearance and will turn your skin green, and that's if you don't get a headache from the sheer weight of it hanging off your neck. And of course I had to fake enthusiasm. I'm not trying to break their little hearts. After they had gone to bed I asked Matt what the hell- because really, what the hell? How are you a parent for 9 years and have no ability to say, "you know, that's pretty nice but I bet mommy would REALLY love this.."? So he says nothing.

As usual.

The next day, my actual birthday, I see he got me these daisies that smell like trash, like actual trash. To the point where I didn't even see the daisies, I thought for sure one of our pets tipped over trash, or worse. Nope. Just these ugly ass flowers that are half dead and eaten by the cats, stinking up the entire downstairs of my house. So I toss those and take the trash out because it was enough to make me vomit. I had gone to lunch, and when I came home, it was pretty much time to start dinner. He comes home, late, so dinner is basically burning on the stove. By this point I'm so angry it's taking everything in me to not just lose it on him, and he hands me a card and the Mockingjay movie. I don't even open the card, I just toss it. Mostly because I have said at every holiday, anniversary, birthday, etc do NOT GET ME A CARD. The entire principle of paying $2+ on a piece of cardstock with shit you don't even understand what it says makes me so mad I can't even think. But this one is heavy so lord knows he probably paid more than $5 for it and that sets me off because I think, I could buy two lunches for the kids at school with that $5 but you've instead, flushed it down the toilet. Super. So we start having dinner and I'm over it. I didn't finish it, I just got up and started doing busy things so I'd calm down. (I'm a fierce cleaner when I'm angry.) After dinner I told the kids they could just have my cake, I wasn't up for it.

I know they were disappointed. By that point I was so far gone from being able to fake it, I did the best I could. We read stories and I tucked them in and basically cried myself to sleep.

It's not that I'm asking for specific, awesome gifts. Not at all. It's that I'm asking for just a single fuck to be given. Just one. I hate having to say explicitly what I'd like for my birthday, or whatever, because by that point I figure- what's the point? Why even bother then? He did ask what I wanted for my birthday and I said I really needed a new bra, pajamas, I'd like to get my hair cut and eyebrows waxed before Penelope comes (to my credit, I only get my hair cut twice a year, if that because I can't justify the cost), and a splurge would be a pedicure. Instead, I got jewelry I won't wear and a movie I could care less if I see. Thanks.

On the upside, my friend got me flowers and a gift card to my favorite nacho place, my parents got me a gift card for Barnes & Noble so I can get some books that are coming out soon, and my in-laws got me a gift card to get pajamas. So it wasn't a total bust. I just hate feeling disappointed if I don't just do something myself. It'd be really nice to be completely surprised. It'd be nice if he just put thought into something versus doing the bare minimum to say he did it.

Ah, well.

Next year I'll just plan my own birthday fun. I'll buy my own gift, my own cake, and make it a fun day.

33 is just around the corner. Out of NOWHERE.

I have been so busy with work, PTO, the kid's schooling and activities, and all things baby that I almost missed my own effing birthday.

No, I'm not even kidding. Had Jackson not said something to me this morning, my birthday could have come and gone with no fanfare. No fuss. No dessert.

Quite frankly, that's not the kind of world I want to live in.

So my birthday is on Tuesday, March 10. It's a really glorious day usually and I don't care that I'm getting older, I still genuinely love my birthday. I love everything about it. I'm always so happy on my birthday (I made it another year!!), I enjoy eating cake and other desserts in mass quantities, I like presents, I like the hand made cards my kids always make me, and I love free stuff with coupons emailed to me.

I like having as much fuss over my birthday as possible. Always have, always will. You better believe whatever nursing home I land in better recognize otherwise I'm going to be a nurse's nightmare if cupcakes are not had and there are not balloons. And honestly, Matt might be dead and I wouldn't turn down a male stripper, but only if my heart medication is still working. Otherwise I'll settle for watching Magic Mike again because by then, it'll be a cinematic classic I'm sure.

But THIS YEAR, it feels different. Mostly because I clearly have no plans. Cripes, I almost forgot the damn day all together. Which means if I'm not making plans, Matt probably forgot it's just around the corner as well, so I need to step up my game so he doesn't forget.

The downer here is that as of this second, we're planning on going to night one of our two day labor/delivery class that night. So, that's kind of a buzz kill. I could make friends and bring cupcakes but I kind of don't want to share, so I'll skip that. But maybe Matt can take me out for dinner or something. I'm going to lunch with a friend, but he can definitely bring me to dinner. I also feel like I should still get a cake. (Preferably an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen OR the "Cheesecake Named Desire" cake from Cold Stone Creamery.)

As for presents, I kind of don't really know. Just kidding! I totally know!

 

You know I hate Oprah and her book club picks are almost always so terrible that I want to scream and gouge my own eye out while writing a "this books sucks, end your terrible book club now" letter. But I have had so many friends say how great this book was so I'm getting sucked in. 

These pajamas. In large. I've discovered I have zero pajamas to wear to the hospital. I remember being notoriously cold there and quite frankly, I refuse to wear a hospital gown longer than I need to, and if people are going to come visit, I'd rather not look like a mess. So these are cute. I also have anxiety on what I will wear on the way there and the way back. But that's for another day. 

Gift cards. I am so far behind in scrapbooking it isn't even funny. My plan is to at least get our Florida vacation album done (from 2013) and maybe start on Penelope's baby book. AND I have to get supplies to start making baby announcements. My goal is to have those pre-made so that all I have to do is insert a picture and mail them when she's born. 

Other than that? I really can't think of anything. Which is terrible because usually I can come up with this gigantic list of awesomeness. Right now though, all I can think about is Penelope. Everything kind of revolves around her right now. 

Needless to say, I'm sure I'll have a great birthday. I don't feel weird about turning 33 at all. I feel like I'm in my prime, like I've kind of found a groove in life and I'm just going with it. I'm pretty optimistic about my future, and there isn't anything I regret from my past per say, so I'm doing alright. 

When Sara Met Shirley, part 2

Jesus. I'm such a slacker. But to my defense, I have grossly mismanaged my time as of late and if you ever hear of me walking around without my planner? Slap me. I need to stop doing this. I had double booked and over extended myself every single day for the last week.

Someday? Someday I'll learn to say no.

*sigh*

So after we left Minneapolis and the icky hotel, we drove to Rockford, Illinois. The point of this was so we could stay close enough to Chicago but save money on a hotel and then see Kings of Leon AGAIN like total groupies, and then after the concert drive 8 or 9 hours back to my house where we'd crash for a few hours and then get Shirley on her plane to go home. The plan, while in the planning stages, seemed to make total sense. I mean, we really thought this was do-able.

And why Rockford? Well when you look at the maps, Rockford isn't a small dot. It's kind of a biggish dot but not super far from Chicago and so we thought, biggish dot meant it'd have some things going for it.

As it turns out, it does not.

Rockford is actually kind of a dump of a town that doesn't actually know it's a dump. Which is kind of sad.

Also hilarious was that the "resort" we were staying in? Oh my god- the pictures online looked awesome. Shirley and I were looking at hotels separately and both chose this once because of how swank it looked and how reasonably it was priced.

As it turns out? The "resort" is not swank. Like not at all. In fact, if you've ever ridden the "Tower of Terror" ride at Disney, you basically saw the inside of this hotel. Now, the pictures here are not doing it justice. Not at all. Because what you also need to take into consideration is that the person working at the desk was missing teeth, the hotel manager's name is Roxy Rager (I have a business card to prove it), and the pancakes served at breakfast are basically flat biscuits that have been re-heated for at least month on a daily basis. Oh, and the entire place felt absolutely haunted.

I would be remiss to not point out that the lobby had a bronze hog fountain where water came out of it's mouth like it was slobbering. You apparently could throw coins in and I'm sure that's the renovation fund.

I swear to you that the clock above the door? EXACT same as in Tower of Terror. EXACT. 

The first room we got was down a wing that I think they are going for the Southern Cotton Farm Mansion feel because that's what it looked like. Our room though was a super treat because one bed had a busted wheel so the right corner was drooping down. So Shirley goes down to the desk to obviously say this is not going to do and bless the Toothless Wonder, but he's trying to say there aren't other rooms.

You know, there are three cars in the lot, two employees and us. You have other rooms. So we get a room on the 4th floor. Turns out, the entrance is actually the third floor and there are two floors in the basement essentially. Um, no. The next room was the exact same minus the droopy bed. After getting settled we decided we were going to do Rockford, Illinois right.

Which meant going to the mall because that's all there is. Which, they have a really nice mall which was unbelievably crowded for a Friday night and it's like, family time. Small children all over the place. It's like they put every spare dollar the city had into this mall because it does not belong in Rockford. After shenanigans at the mall, we had ice cream and then decided that drinking the water at the hotel wasn't ideal so we went to Walgreens to get water. Where our cashier looked like he had the shit kicked out of him. Black and blue face, missing teeth, weird tattoos, scratches and cuts all over him.

And despite the really large amount of dental facilities in Rockford, dental care is not a priority. A lot of people were missing teeth.

So fast forward to Saturday. We never did sleep in as planned and I'll be honest- worst night of sleep I had for weeks. My ribs started to hurt because that bed sucked and I just couldn't stay asleep for long. So we decided we were going to drive to Chicago get some lunch and get on a Mob Tour where they dress up like gangsters. Which sounds super fun and awesome and I have wanted to do this for years.

But the "flagship" McDonald's in downtown Chicago makes you pay to park. Like $11.99 per hour. So we decide maybe we'd eat fast and then take the tour. As it turns out, after we ordered our food and rode the escalator (!!!), a protest broke out. I don't know what they were protesting (at least the first group) because they were yelling in Spanish, but then they started singing, "Ole, Ole, Ole" and it didn't really seem like a protest. Then out of NOWHERE, this group of hipsters who were sitting in the corner drinking McDonald's frappes no less, stand up and start shouting about "legal status does not matter" in reference to working,etc. Um, yes. Yes it does. This is the stuff you'd expect in Texas. But Illinois? First of all, who knew there was such a large population of illegal Spanish workers trying to work at McDonald's? I mean, that seems a bit crazy. Well this group rode the escalator up and down a few times and then left.

So then we left. But the tour already left. So we paid almost $20 to park (despite our $10 credit because we ordered food) and drove around downtown Chicago so Shirley could see it. But here's a thing- if you are at a stop light and your light turns red? You cannot just go and then give me the finger for turning on my green arrow. No, YOU are actually the douchebag and I don't care if you're in a $90,000 SUV. No, I will scream at you and give you that finger right back with a fist shake.

Fortunately, Shirley didn't die of a heart attack. But it really wouldn't have been a road trip if we didn't almost get killed in the car. I mean, it happens on every trip, it could have been worse.

But after driving around it became abundantly clear that I would not be able to stay up another 17 hours. I love me some Kings of Leon and if any of them called me, I'd come running, but damn. (Bonus points if you caught the song reference there.) So we decided to just head to my house.

But not without a stop at a Cracker Barrel in Janesville, Wisconsin. And every time I go to a Cracker Barrel (and Shirley agrees) I get really excited until I open the menu and I wonder why I got excited. I obviously bought a bunch of the Smarties Suckers I love and I regret not buying the frog lawn ornament where the belly lights up despite Shirley saying it's ugly. He would have been cute on my back step, I stand by that. But what I did do is take a picture of their double rocker bench with a $259 price tag and texted it to Matt saying I'd need help unloading it.

I immediately got a text that said "call me".

I did not. I ate my dinner.

After dinner, I dutifully called and told him I purchased it, it was hard to get in my vehicle, my back seat doesn't actually fold down and I'll need help getting it out because it was heavy.

All while Shirley is laughing.

Then we drove what literally was the longest eight hours of my life. And if you've never driven through one end of Wisconsin to the other at night? You're missing out on nothing. And I mean nothing. No lights, no cars, not even any deer. By the last  hour I was essentially delirious with exhaustion and my eyes burned. They were watering on their own one minute then the next felt like they've never had moisture. It was quite possibly, the worst drive home ever. By the time we got to my house, I was exhausted. Yet as soon as I lay down I'm wide awake which is a whole other level of crap.

So the next day, we get up and I am determined to get a picture of her next to snow or something. So we went to Canal Park and a super nice jogger guy took our picture.


And then I took her up to Brighton Beach in Duluth and she got to walk on ice and see baby glaciers. Plus, it was pretty damn cold so she got to experience the beginnings of frost bite. Which is better than any souvenir, really. I mean, you could get postcards but being able to go back to nursing school and talk about frost bite and the feeling of your skin actually freezing and your eyeball juice freezing with first hand knowledge? I mean, that's kind of rad.

But then she had to go home. And I'm sad. I really like Shirley and maybe it's best we don't live super close together because she'd be my friend I'd get into all kinds of trouble with. I already told Matt that once I get all of these medical and dental bills paid, I'm going out to visit her. Most likely without him because he can be a buzz kill and I mean that in the nicest way possible. But Shirley is my friend I can text random ass things to and she doesn't even blink an eye. Even though we broke up on the Illinois border over Usher versus Ne-Yo, I'm willing to work though it. Because we all know Usher is better and we can counsel her through it. ;)

When Sara Met Shirley, part 1

You know how sometimes the universe gives you a twin that is equally as awesome but comes from another mother? And how some people go their whole lives never finding that person? Yeah, I can't really relate to that because I finally got to hang out with Shirley! Shirley my super awesome blog friend for YEARS!

A few months ago we kind of rough planned out that she would come here for my birthday, it would be epic, and we would essentially be bad asses and hopefully not land in jail. We didn't land in jail, but we maybe saw a crime scene and a horror movie location, oogled a guy with hair plugs, ate cheese curds and drove for fucking hours to essentially see what could be on a top 10 list of worst cities of America.

All in a span of three god damn days!

So it starts on Thursday. I worked for a bit in the morning and then went to pick her up from the airport. Her husband had concerns that I might actually be a balding middle aged man with white Hanes briefs as my primary outfit. I think the fact I was late picking her up courtesy of every single traffic light, an accident on the bridge and a fucking train probably didn't help? But I got there and thankfully, she turned out to not be a balding middle aged man with white Hanes briefs as her primary outfit. Not that Matt expressed any concern, but at least 15 of my friends and my mother did. They kept texting to make sure that I was indeed alive and well and not gagged in the back of a rapist van.

But then, like a moron, I remembered I had forgotten to print out the tickets to a concert so I drove all the way back to work so we could do this. The plan was to see Kings of Leon in Minneapolis on Thursday, drive to Rockford, Illinois on Friday, do something there, then drive into Chicago on Saturday and see Kings of Leon again, then immediately after the concert drive eight hours on a virtually empty highway in the dark on almost no sleep.

At the time, this made perfect sense. We aren't old and we've got this.

So we drive to the cities and check into our hotel, which was super busy by the time we got there. I have been known to stay in questionable locations. I swear to god, no matter what the star rating is, the reviews or the pictures, if there is a shit room in the building I will always get it. I will just say from here on out, I apologize because I seriously am starting to think anyone who shares a room with me will suffer and it's my fault. I don't know what it is about me that attracts losers and filthy rooms but dammit.

Because what we though initially was mold all over the bathroom, which is bad enough, actually looks like blood. The picture isn't doing it justice because it really was a far more red/rust color. Like dried blood.

Anyways.

So we went out to eat at a restaurant pretty close to the concert venue that I usually go to, which also ended up being pretty busy. We also got a waitress who we are pretty certain was drunk. Our food was fine but when I asked for extra pickles she brought me a plate of pickles. Like a plate of pickle spears. It was really awkward and kind of weird. She also clearly wanted to be our friend. In hindsight, maybe she was actually hitting on us? Hmm..

So after that? We went to the Kings of Leon concert. Which, I don't know if you know this, but I'm a pretty huge fan. Like super huge. I will just say right now I am so disappointed that Caleb has done something to his head. He was clearly balding just a few years ago and suddenly he has hair. Which automatically makes me hate his model wife because why be judgey like that? You knew he was balding when you started dating. *sigh* Then Shirley completely busted any hopes I had to being a first wife to any one of them because Jared got married. *sigh* So now I have to be a home wrecker. Which, I don't want to be but I love me those men. I will say, I think Matthew has lost a little too much weight and needs to grow the hair out a bit because his ears look too big, but I'd over look it because if he can play guitar with his mouth, that can only mean good things, right?

After the concert, we drove back to the hotel and got some sleep. Friday was to be a big travel day driving from the cities to Rockford, which looked like a big dot on the map. We judge things by the size of dot and Rockford looked promising.

So the next day we started our drive. I think I impressed Shirley with Wisconsin's highway system being surrounded by adult superstores, firecracker superstores and cheese house places. Because dude- she's never had a cheese curd!!

We obviously stopped.

 And what a fucking disappointment to find that cheese house places don't see fried cheese curds? What in the mother hell is that?? We bought fudge instead. Mine turned out to be not edible because when I finally got home I discovered I left the back next to the heat vent in the back seat. It was a disgusting discovery. So because we couldn't get fried ones there, we stopped for lunch and she ordered some. Except she didn't understand the importance of the squeak and honestly, it's hard to explain what that is supposed to be.

But on to Rockford!

As it turns out, Rockford is a gigantic dump of a city. I don't even want to to call it a city, it's like a dirty big town, really. It's kind of disappointing. Also disappointing was the fact that as we got closer to our hotel it was becoming incredibly clear that the hotel likely wasn't going to be as described on the Internet.

BUT THEN!

Then I shouted out that there was a Beef-a-Roo!!!!

I still don't know what is in a Beef-a-Roo, and that I am admittedly nervous about eating here, but this one looked far classier than the one Matt and I saw in northern Michigan. So I promise you all now, the next time I see one, I'll eat something from there and document it all.

I'm going to tell you about the nightmare hotel and the second half of the trip tomorrow. But what you need to know for the closing of this post:

• Shirley + Sara 4 Eva
• Shirley = Team NeYo, Sara = Team Usher. We broke up on the Illinois border because of this. 
• But made up when we realized we pretty much are identical and like all of the same things because this would make kidnapping famous men a little easier. 
• Especially if we had a human trafficking van over a rapist van. 
• So long as we had enough quarters to drive on the roads because toll booths are everywhere. 
• Which doesn't feel as wrong as people from Arizona having to pay for air for their god damn tires. 
• Plus Shirley didn't die from the cold though she came close on her last day. 

More tomorrow. Swearsies. 

Eye cream and bras with extra lift? Welcome to 32.

Well. Today I am officially 32. I actually celebrated with an epic weekend out of town which I'll dutifully report on at some point this week, probably tomorrow. It was easily the best time I've had in a LONG time with one of my favorite blog friends ever. Today I worked and when I came home we went out to dinner and then had cake at home. I got a few presents, all of them awesome, and overall? It's a great birthday.

I just hate to be such a downer. I have always been that person that totally loved their birthday and believed in fully celebrating another year of life and thoughtfully looked forward to the next year and what it might bring. I am typically not that girl that obsesses over aging and I don't consider myself to be vain at all. I like to look pretty, but it doesn't take precedent over my day and I am totally that girl that will go makeup free into the world because sometimes I just don't care enough to make the effort.

But today?

Today felt different. Maybe it's because I've been sick for the majority of this year so far, maybe it's because I feel like I'm falling apart even though I'm not, I don't know. I just feel meh about my birthday. And that alone? Is kind of upsetting. I don't want to be meh about my birthday. I want to party hard. I want to have a tiara, cupcakes, balloons, the whole works. I feel like such a downer on my own birthday today.

I know in the large scheme of things, 32 is nothing. This is an age I'll look back on in 10 years and remember how good I had it. I won't lie though, knowing I now need eye cream for droopy eyelids and bras with a lot of extra lift because things are going a little more south than they should be at this age? Is really hard. And I hate to even say that because ugh, I'm not that girl. I have never been that girl to care really about what I look like and I don't know why all of a sudden I'm staring at myself in the mirror and noticing things changing. Again, years from now I'm going to watch to bitch slap my 32 year old self for being a whiny brat, I know this.

Even Matt commented about how I'm not really fired up about my birthday. Usually I demand there at least be a balloon involved. I wouldn't say no to crepe paper streamers and party blower things. My birthday also kind of creeped up on me this year and being sick I didn't really feel like planning anything out with local friends. I feel like maybe I'll plan a night out and whoever can come should and worst case scenario, at least my super close friends will come and I'll have a little night out. We'll see.

I also recognize that this might actually be a cross of daylight savings time, being exhausted, having a lot on my plate and the fact winter is dragging its ass and I feel like it won't ever end. I just want sunshine, grass, and capri pants. I don't feel like that is asking too much, right?? *sigh*

Beans, Spit, and the Road.

Ah.. the third day of Chicago. Equally as gorgeous in weather which was too bad because it was of course, freezing as fucking hell at home. The good thing about it being so obscenely wonderful in Chicago was that it really felt like a vacation because it was such a change from home. But you want to see pictures!

On Sunday we walked from our hotel down to Millennium Park where daffodils and tulips were in bloom, and that was amazing. This is the outdoor amphitheatre and it's a piece of art itself. The arches are like sound barriers so surrounding buildings aren't bombarded with noise.

 And of course, we saw Cloud Gate otherwise known as The Bean.

 I had to take the obligatory dork in the bean picture.

 The bean from the other side is just pretty because you get the gorgeous skyline reflected into it.

 The group of us being equally dorky and waving at ourselves in the Bean.

 The park also has these two huge glass tiled columns. According to our trolley tour guide, over 100 Chicago residents agreed to have their faces used on the columns. Their faces fade in/out and they are expressive- the smile, blink, and pucker their lips into a kiss. When they pucker their lips, the fountain turns on and water shoots out of their mouth as if they are spitting on you. It's kind of disgusting but fun at the same time.

After we got our caffeine fix we were able to check out of the hotel and get on the road. What a long fucking drive. It was long on the way there but the anticipation of a fun weekend makes it go by faster. We left Chicago right around 11am and I found myself having to stop several times along the way to wake myself up. I did get to stop at a Cracker Barrel and buy 8 more sugar suckers and you know I've eaten every one of them already. We stopped in Wisconsin Dells to do a little outlet shopping and I got my kids some outfits for summer at cheap prices so that was kind of great. By the time we got to Amy's apartment it was about 10:30 pm and we still had about two hours to drive to get us home.

I sat on my own bed in my own house at 12:34 am and I fell asleep with my clothes, shoes, jacket and keys in hand only to be promptly woken up at 5am by two overly eager kids. I was exhausted. I had work that day and I won't complain too much because Emily had to be there at 8 and I had to be in by 10. But still, I bet she wasn't up at 5am!

Green with envy.

OK, so I fell off the planet for a few more days. Spank me. In reality, I have a lot going on in my own little world and so I am having to carve out time for other things just to keep it all moving. With that, blogging may be sporadic but no less sassy. With that said, let's talk about Chicago, day two.

Right away when we came out of our hotel we saw a religious crazy. You know I love me some religious crazies because they are a good time and it makes me feel more secure in my own mental issues. The last St. Patrick's Day I was at in Chicago we had Scientologists with scary masks on, and so I was glad that Chicago didn't let me down this time.

 And the river was GREEN. Like bright ass green. Fun fact- the chemical they use to dye the river green is actually orange and it was only by accident that the river turned green. It was originally used so they could see if the water was leaking into surrounding infrastructure but since it's green- why not party? Also cool is that the tradition of dying the river is passed down through a Chicago family through multiple generations. I thought that was kind of awesome.

 So one of the first things we did was purchase our tickets for the 5:30 pm water taxi because Emily wanted to do it and I had never done it. The bonus is that it was fairly cheap at $29 a person because it was great. More on that in a bit. Then after buying those tickets we walked down to the Water Tower Place and bought our tickets for the trolley. Keep in mind at this point it's almost lunch time and nobody has eaten. This tour is typically two hours long if you don't hop on/off anywhere and it's a pretty substantial loop that you go on. The plan was to get to Navy Pier, get off and have lunch, look around and then get back onto the trolley.

 This didn't happen because guess what? There are a lot of fucking people in Chicago walking around half drunk on St. Patrick's Day.

 Three hours later, we get to Navy Pier. But not before I had to hold in vomit from having ridiculously low blood sugar, a migraine coming on and basically breaking out in cold sweat because I felt like I was either going to puke all over the trolley or pass out.

 (side note: tell me this isn't post card worthy??? I took that myself!)

Anyways. We get to Navy Pier and almost immediately, the smell of warm garbage (it was in the mid 80's and gorgeous outside) and fast food made my mouth feel tingly. We all had to pee by this point so we get into the bathroom and I puke. Obviously. Afterwards, I felt confident I could eat something. So I get into line with the girls to get food and just as I'm getting to the register, my mouth feels tingly again. You know that feeling- your mouth gets warm and tingly and saliva pools in there, yeah. So I ask Amy to get me a Pepsi and I run like a ninja to the bathroom. The line was ENORMOUS and no way was I going to make it. So I do what anyone would do.

I go to the men's room and puke in a urinal.

Thankfully, there were no guys in there and even if there were I don't know that I'd care because we had an emergency situation and I didn't want to puke in the family pavilion with the little girls who were doing Irish dances or whatever performing right there.

Afterwards, I was not eating lunch. I got my Garrett's popcorn (which was as delicious as the trolley person said it would be) and drank my Pepsi. After about an hour I started to feel OK, so we got on the trolley and headed back to the water taxi place.

 We snapped a picture before we got on the taxi.

 And I took some more of the river as the sun was almost ready to go down.

 And then we got on our little water taxi. Which was amazing and maybe the most relaxing thing we did. It was so nice to be on a boat, with cool people, learning about this awesome city, waving to the locals and having them wave back, and watch the sun set over Lake Michigan. Like, can you really end a great day any better?

Emily and I were boat buddies and if it were not for her suggestion, we would not have been on that awesome water taxi!

After the water taxi we went to the Cheesecake Factory to get some food. Um, WORST SERVICE EVER. I've eaten at that location before and it was delicious, but this time it was bad. The food was bad, we had three different employees wait on us (kind of), we were there for what seemed like forever but was just under two hours because that's apparently how incompetent they were, and then Amy and Tammy got yelled at for having to pee because they were trying to close the bathroom down 45 minutes before the place closes. Um, rude. And THEN, the waitress (the last one we had) got kind attitude when we asked for her to split the bill up. Bitch, we're each paying with cards, don't give me an attitude. I was also pissy about my drink having no ice. Like, who gets fountain soda with no ice? The ice makes the drink. Everybody knows that. Assholes.

Anyways. It was a long walk back to the hotel, I was exhausted and knew I would have to be up early on Sunday so we can make the horrifically long drive back. I ended up getting no sleep at all either night, but overall it was worth it. Tomorrow I'll show you my Sunday pictures and wrap up my Chicago posts. :)