All I wanted was some baseboards.

I'm a simple gal, really. Scoff all you want, but I like simple things and I just don't really believe in killing yourself for dumb reasons. I don't understand why you see homeowners go into massive amounts of debt for a killer backyard when you can only use it for three months a year (at least around here). Or when you see people re-doing things because their tastes have changed or simply because they think they can afford it.

Int his economy and being realistic on what you could sell your home for, it doesn't make sense to spend a lot of money. And I think people think if they throw down $10,000 on a bathroom that they are always going to see a return on their money. You might.... but assume you won't. That's my theory. Mostly because I don't have the cash to be throwing around.

But we've lived in our house for six years. We've done a lot to the house (added a bedroom and a dining room, gutted and replaced the ghetto bathroom which only highlight was that we had a garden hose for a shower, and made a larger storage closet upstairs utilizing wasted space), but we have a lot more to go. (No, the laundry room hasn't been touched.) But that brings me to this weekend. On Friday night, while watching a marathon of HGTV (which FYI? Needs to come off the air because it makes DIY-talentless people wield hammers and crowbars when they have no business doing such a thing.), that my living room looks like shit. The walls are cracked, full of weird holes, the weirdo putty shoved into a large hole for no reason (it was there when we moved in), the stairs make awful noises, but mostly? I feel like it wouldn't look like shit if we put some baseboards in, patched the walls (since all four walls had a different size baseboard), painted and put some new carpet in. Mostly because the carpet has an unfortunate smell that I just can't fix anymore. And it all started after I realized that brown walls (though I love this brown a LOT), brown furniture, and brown carpet make me feel like I live in a cardboard box. Except an expensive one.

 So see the wall to the left of my TV? You can kind of see the ghetto state of my baseboards.

Now, on Saturday night Matt said that he's happy to help, but that I would have to learn how to do some shit myself because he's not a work horse. (I know, I laughed at that too... it's so sad when dementia hits a person so young.) So I had to learn how to prep a wall for drywall compound or whatever that white stuff is. But guess what? Sanding sucks shit. I got it done though, and he showed me how to apply the white stuff and I have no interest in that.

On Sunday- I went to Home Depot and got us a drywall sanding block because according to HGTV, it's easier to use than sand paper. (Ladies- if your husband hands you sandpaper? Shove it up his ass and get a really snazzy sanding block.) While Matt was skiing, I decided that I was going to sand that drywalll stuff down and take it upon myself to rip up the rest of the baseboards.

Lesson number one is to never let me have a hammer. Or a crow bar. And especially don't let me have the two together because I will make large holes where baseboards should be. After making two fairly large holes that were beyond a "patch job" I decided I should just let Matt do it.

When Matt came home he laughed at me and said was an idiot. I'll take that because I did knock two holes into the wall. When Matt went to look at the wall he discovered a "small room" (his words) and said he was going to the garage. When he came back I was putting laundry away upstairs when I hear a power tool start up. And come down to see this:

Yeah, that would be Matt cutting a giant fucking hole in my living room wall to see what the secret room is about. But lesson number two? When you find unexplainable cracks in your wall like this:

It's maybe because the jackweasel that lived in your house previous put up drywall and only connected it to the wood on the ceiling... not actual supporting vertical beams like you know, a WALL would normally do. We discovered that while making a hideout fit for a troll in our living room.

And you remember that time I bitched the entire summer about our backyard looking like a home remodel nightmare gone bad? And then Matt was awesome and cleaned it? We've regressed.

While Matt was doing that I noticed that we have other holes in other parts of the living room that need more than a patch.

But the secret hideout? Looked like this when we got in there:

Someone handmade this rickety shelf and it was left in there. It's all plaster and lath (suck) with what I am assuming to be asbestos wallpaper (on the back wall) and that curved wall to the right is where the stairs are.

So. We now have a hole in the wall, and we can't make the opening and wider because there is a support beam right along the edge of where Matt cut. We have two options: 1. is to repair the wall like we never opened it up. 2. make the cubby some kind of storage (books and movies?), put trim around the door and have it be a weird thing in our living room. Any ideas on what you would do? Have any of you encountered such a thing? 

Basically, what turned into a maybe $250 job with new baseboards, paint, trim, etc has grown to a bit more of an undertaking. Let's not even talk about the carpet which is grosser than I feared. I discovered while cleaning up sanding mess with the shop vac that the carpet is actually not attached to the floor. And the best part? When lifting up the carpet to clean out what I could, I found a used condom. That wasn't ours. YAY. 

More Than Words Can Say

No, this isn't some schmoopy post about how my life is horrible and I've made friends with the side of a bridge. Nope. This is actually a book review for a really great book you only wish were available in December... but you'll have to hold firm on your panties because it isn't released until January.

More Than Words Can Say - Robert Barclay
 
Chelsea Enright never expected to inherit her grandmother’s lakeside cottage deep in the Adirondacks—a serene getaway that had been mysteriously closed up decades ago. This is no simple bequest, however, because when Chelsea finds her grandmother’s WWII diaries, she’s stunned to discover that they hold secrets she never suspected . . . and they have the power to turn her own life upside down.


Even more surprising is the compelling presence of local doctor Brandon Yale, and Chelsea soon finds her “short stay” has stretched into the entire summer. She cannot put this cottage and her family’s past behind her easily—and the more she learns about the woman her grandmother truly was, the more Chelsea’s own life begins to change . . . and nothing will ever be the same again.

I will tell you right away I liked this book. I really love a book that will suck you into it within the first ten pages. The hook in this book is that right from the beginning- you are intrigued by the letter Chelsea's grandmother leaves her and you just have to know what is going to happen. I don't want to give anything away so I'm going to be annoyingly vague about it.

Some great things about this book are that it's about a woman's self discovery in a not cheesy way, there aren't sweeping romances or things that realistically probably wouldn't happen. I also really love books about multi generational connections and learning about your family history and secrets- which this book definitely has. The only thing that I find annoying, and this is just a life annoyance I have, is that people are too easy to say that a revealed secret can change everything in their world or who they are. No it can't, don't be stupid. I'm starting to think I really am one of a kind in that I don't let history or weird family things or whatever to hinder what I do now. Basically- I don't let any of that stuff be an excuse for how I am today. Does that make sense? So when I felt like this is where that book was going, I'll be honest- I felt stabby. But in the end it didn't matter because I loved it just the same.

It is a very fast read because you want to dig up the secrets with Chelsea and you almost feel like you're her summer camp buddy on a mystery hunt. I am the first stop on this tour, but check back here to see what other people are saying!

The First Annual Ugly Sweater Christmas Party.

I have always wanted to do an ugly sweater party but every year something else has come up and it just didn't happen. This year when Amy told me she wanted to do one too, I decided that dammit- we are doing this. It started out as a moderately sized group was all invited and pretty much all at the last minute, some people had to work, some were sick (which totally OK- I do not want nor need your sick germs, folks), some had last minute things that came up, etc. We ended up having a total group size of six for dinner that dwindled to five for the bar stop.

The original plan was to go to dinner, go over to an ice bar that was just built in Canal Park, head over to Bentleyville which is this huge tour of lights that used to be in this guy's yard but has now moved to Bayfront Festival Park, and then head out to a few bars.

Dinner was at Old Chicago, which I love but don't get to go to very often. Hands down the best was when we realized that Chad and Matt were wearing the same ugly ass Christmas shirt. Unintentionally. I wish I would have had enough sense to take a picture of it, because it was kind of awesome.

After dinner, we headed over to Bentleyville because it was kind of cold and we had a feeling we'd be in line for a LONG time for Santa. Oh, you heard me right- we were going to visit Santa.

 After almost two hours of standing in really fucking cold weather, we saw Santa. We got some dirty looks at the restaurant, but Santa laughed at us. Flat out laughed at us. Whatevs. But we got a great picture. Some special things you should note- is that my sister in law has a festive green for her hair color but the best part of her outfit? The fact that she shrunk her sweater so it was cropped. Matt and Chad with their matching shirts, me with my fugly sweater with giant white balls dangling from the zipper, Amy with her festive vest and snappy denim shirt and her amazing knee high socks, and Tammy's gigantic jingle bell earrings kept falling off. Which was kind of hilarious.

 So after leaving Santa we basically hustled our asses through the rest of Bentleyville because Amy's legs were numb and Tammy couldn't feel her feet. My thighs were pretty much numb as well but seeing how Matt and I had done Bentleyville with our kids the weekend prior, I was OK. It wasn't as cold during party night as it was with the kids.

 After Bentleyville we headed to the standby dive bar in my town. Usually? That place is hopping with weirdos and terrible karaoke singers- but that night it was DEAD. The guy who runs the karaoke sang two completely depressing songs- something about growing up in the ghetto (mind you, this is coming from a middle aged, overweight and balding white man) and something about being sad in Texas. I have no idea. If we didn't have the guys with us and it was just a regular girls weekend- I would have completely suggested we go to the gay bar down the road because that is truly a place to see. Maybe next time!

All in all, it was fun... but it could have been more fun. I had a lot on my mind and as excited as I am for Christmas, I'm not quite loving it yet. I'm just a little stressed out so I wasn't feeling like partying so much. But next year? I'm excited. I think next year we'll do it again because honestly? Half the fun was just trying to find such ugly shit to wear.

CHICK-tionary (GIVEAWAY)

OH man. Oh man, oh man, oh man. If you need a book that is perfect to give to your girlfriend (Christmas, Birthday, Kwanzaa, National Popsicle Day, etc) then this is it. If you unfortunately do not have a vagina but instead have a penis and are confused by women lingo? You need this book.

CHICK-tionary by Anna Lefler

Your bestie, biffle, and GMF rolled into one! You’re all over the definitions of “low lights,” “ruching,” and a “tankini.” But can you spot a “Mrs. Potato Head” when you see one? That’s where The CHICKtionary comes in. The CHICKtionary is a humorous dictionary of the words and phrases women use—and what they really mean when they use them. The book corrals more than 450 terms, including some you know (uterus) and some you might not (flexting), and defines each from the perspective of a typical contemporary woman—a woman who avoids accidental pageant hair, is frenemies with her robotic vacuum and only occasionally relies on her high-waisted jeans to hold up her strapless bra.

I will tell you I normally don't love books meant to be funny. I also don't really like jokes or when people are intentionally trying to make me laugh. It's never funny and I think it's dumb.

But I LOVED this book. I loved it because I can relate to it, because I say all of these things, and it's like I'm chatting with my biffle about these things. Yeah, that's right- I use the word "biffle" and if you don't know what that is you are A) a loser without a biffle and B) probably not a woman. In case you don't know what a biffle is, let's educate you:

Biffle, noun: Variation of BFFL, or best friend for life. Your biffle is your homegirl, your wingwoman, the top of the female friendship hierarchy- and you are the same for her. Your biffle knows where you hide your spare key, the home address of the guy who landed you in the women's clinic with those nasty red bumps, and the real story behind that thing that happened that time at the cabin. Not even your kryptonite guy (see also: kryptonite guy) can destabilize the bond you share with your biffle.

GENIUS.

I love how it's put together just like a dictionary, it's all alphabetical. I learned some new words that made me spit out my Pepsi and strain my already busted up shoulder, but I'm OK with that.
Another definition that made me literally worry that I maybe leaked some pee in bed? (Because I've had two kids- this could happen.)

Childbirth, noun: Part miracle of nature, part slasher film, childbirth is one of those things that has to be experienced to be believed, particularly the first time around. Like skydiving, you can listen to the instructor talk all day long, but until someone pushes your ass out of an airplane, it's all academic. Luckily, every woman's body is slightly different, so no matter how experienced your doctor/midwife/cabdriver is, there will be a moment when he or she looks truly perplexed by something happening between your legs. It's comforting at that time to remember that women have been giving birth for centuries and the body knows what to do. After all, it's as simple as slipping a cannonball through a keyhole.

The only definition I would add for a part two that I feel should never be left out is when someone says "Have a nice day". That right there? That's code for "Eat shit and die" when it's from someone who you know doesn't like you such as a frenemy. So Anna- please add that to a sequel, because it's important.

So overall? I loved this book. LOVED IT. I cannot emphasize how much I loved this book because it's beyond words. Beyond, people. Buy it for all of your friends. It's that good. (See what other tour stops are saying about it HERE)

But one of you lucky lambwhores are going to win a copy, so follow the rules and we'll draw a winner on Monday!

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Good luck babes!

Conversations and Cosmopolitans- GIVEAWAY

Easily one of my favorite books this year.

Conversations and Cosmopolitans by Robert Rave and Jane Rave

After moving from the Midwest to New York City at the age of twenty-one, Robert Rave finally found the resolve to mail a letter to his parents informing them that he was gay. Once Robert was “out,” both he and his mother Jane felt a new found freedom to be more honest with each other. From the discrimination Jane experienced as a pregnant teenager in a small town, to Robert’s “manscaping,” almost no topic. was off-limits in their conversations. Soon, Robert was creating a “gay glossary” so that Jane could understand the lexicon and Jane was giving Robert the same dating advice that she used to give Robert’s older sister (“men are jerks”). Conversations and Cosmopolitans is a frank, funny, and heartfelt look at coming out from both a mother’s and son’s perspective, and an inspiring memoir about building family relationships based on honesty, openness, and acceptance.

First off, anyone who knows that I am a huge supporter of LGBT rights and advocacy. It's a damn shame that even in 2011 a person has to live in fear because of who they love yet we as a society praise young men and women to be absolute whores (hello, Jersey Shore) and that's totally fine. It's kind of ass backwards if you ask me.

What also is a shame is that there are thousands of people out there who face shame and disapproval from their families because of who they are. As a parent myself my hopes for my children is that they lead the life they want and are happy. I think there are two ways to really tell how great a parent you are: 1. Does your child still worry about your approval well into their adulthood and 2. Are they able to talk to you?

Both of these are answered by the mother and son duo of Robert and Jane Rave. Robert starts this memoir by talking about the letter he wrote to his parents explaining that he is a gay man, he's OK with it, and he hopes they are OK with it. Not going to lie, it breaks my heart as a mom to think that a child would ever feel like they would be less loved by their parents but it's a reality.

This book was absolutely fantastic because Jane sounds like a really supportive and loving mom. I also really appreciated Robert's openness of his life and how he was feeling at such a turning point in his life. And to be honest, I don't think I would ever feel comfortable having the experiences and conversations he has with his mom with my own. But maybe that's why I loved the book- you can read the chapter and feel just as awkward as Robert did. I also loved how Robert would tell a story and the following chapter is Jane's point of view or add commentary that just makes the whole thing even better.

Bottom line? You need to read this book. If you are a parent then you will love this and end up hoping you end up as cool of a mom as Jane.

But one of you will get to win your own copy (US/Canada only)! 

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I will close this giveaway on Monday, loves!

A Watershed Year

In time for the holidays... a book review!

A Watershed Year by Susan Schoenberger

Months after the funeral of her best friend Harlan, Lucy McVie continues to be haunted by what was left unsaid between them when she receives the first of Harlan’s emails, arranged to be sent after his death. So begins Lucy’s watershed year — a year in which she travels to Russia to adopt a young boy and starts a new relationship that takes her by surprise, all the while learning about how Harlan truly felt when he was alive.


Before I get into my review I will tell you that I liked the book. Is this a book I would grab off my shelf and re-read? Probably not, but mostly because I feel like I understood all aspects of the book enough that re-reading it wouldn't help me understand anything any better.

I kind of loved Harlan's character and wished he had more time in the book. I realized he dies almost right away and that is what kicks off the rest of the novel, but I felt like he could have been used more, if that makes sense. I also really respected his outlook on life and impending death. Sure, he could have continued with treatment but only to gain what, another couple of years? Are you really going to accomplish everything in those couple of years? Is it fair to just prolong the process of death for those around you and even yourself? I don't know and perhaps I would feel differently if it were me in those shoes. But his outlook on life and death was refreshing and real to me.

Lucy kind of annoyed me though. I'm kind of a hard ass when it comes to things and I have very little time for the people who feel like their world is over when someone dies. I get she was in love with Harlan but come ON. Get a grip on life you Debbie Downer. That's pretty much what I would say to Lucy if she were a real person. But then she goes through the process of adopting a little boy from Russia for what I feel to be wholly selfish reasons and that irked me too. Yay for adopting a little boy but is it fair to the boy if he's going to a home with someone who decided on a whim to adopt him? Kind of seems terrible to me.

But one line in the book I absolutely loved because it really is true: "It was more like resolve, a determination to go through the motions of parenthood until, on day, she would stop remembering what it was like to be a nonparent and embrace what parenting seemed to be: experimental treatment that might or might not work, the results too far in the future to know." How perfect is that? That is probably the best description of parenting I have ever heard. You just do what you think is right and hope that it works and your kid doesn't grow up to be a serial killer. I figure if you can keep your child out of jail you've done something right at least.

So overall, it was a good book. You can tell some logical thought was put into the process because the plot moved along at just the right speed, all of the necessary road bumps you expect are there, and yet you are left satisfied at the end. It would make a really great gift for the reader on your list.

You know I don't ask you just to rely on what I say, so please check out the other tour stops for this novel!

Breaking Dawn- midnight movie, bare feet, cup frenzy, and condom head.

Maybe you didn't know this about me, but I'm a Twi-hard. I am and I am not ashamed of it. I have been counting down to Breaking Dawn since Eclipse came out and it definitely did not disappoint. Was Kristen Stewart amazing? No, but she never is and you just expect that her happy, sad, and constipated face all look the same. Was Robert dreamy? Of course. Is this the movie where Jacob reveals himself to be a pedophile that can lick his own ass (in theory)? Why yes. Yes, it is.

First off, we got to the theatre at 4:30 like crazy people and proceeded to make friends with the first two girls in line. The strategy here is that they open the first (and largest) theatre at 10 for seating, and if you are in the front you can go sit down in actual chairs, get your pick of seats, and get ramped up to sit for another two hours... just in a different location. But while waiting the just under six hours to do that, we admired the artwork.

 We got into a cup frenzy when we realized for the low price of $6.95, you can get a large soda in a collectible Twilight cup. So I went up and got one. And got a fucking Jacob cup. I hate Jacob. I can't be attracted to someone who, hypothetically, could lick his own ass. So then I decided to make Kate go up and get me an Edward cup. Unfortunately, the theatre people are pretty hard core and would not let you pick... and you guessed it, she comes back with a fucking Bella cup. I don't think KStew has any kind of discernible talent, so I don't want that. I decided at almost 10 that I would suck it up and try for a third time (just tally up what I've spent so far). I got another Jacob cup while my friend Tammy behind me? Got Edward. Not cool, man. Not cool.

But I decided it was either not meant to be or I could hope someone throws theirs away and I would dumpster dive. Don't question my love for Edward or even for Robert Pattinson, because RPatz was my date.

 I even had my "I love Vampires" shirt on. And blood red nails. I thought I grabbed my red lipstick but I apparently didn't.

The other bonus to sitting in a crowded room for two hours is that you notice the people around you. OH! Before I talk about that- let's talk about personal hygiene. The people behind us in the lobby (group of 6 or so) smelled horrible. So horrible that when it was close to 10 and we really had to squeeze in, I could barely breathe. It wasn't just me, Tammy and Lisa also had a hard time breathing while Kate and Angie were OK, but they were dealing with a woman who came drunk. I know. Class it up, right? But here's the thing- daily showering is kind of awesome. Not just for your own cleanliness, but because nobody wants to smell your stank ass. Seriously. Combine that with them chain smoking the entire time? The fact my lungs are still inflated is kind of a miracle.

Anyways.

So once we got in, we noticed some fun people around us. There was of course, your expected teenage couple on a date too nervous to make up but being over the top touchy feely it makes you want to barf. I can say 100% that I was not like the couple in front of us. I think I told Ang that this is how that show Teen Mom came about. That right there.

Then there was the woman with an unfortunately small hat for her head... and it made her head look like a ribbed for her pleasure condom.

 Or the person who thinks it's OK to stick her BARE FEET on some one's head rest. No, it's not ok. First off, it's November and it was damn cold that day- you have no business wearing no socks you freak. Second off, nobody wants your feet grazing their hair. What if you have a fungus? Now the person in front of them has foot fungus in their hair.

Anyways. I had other pictures but they were blurry and you can't really tell what they are meant to be. But the movie was good. It was pretty much what I expected it to be. The only thing I kind of didn't like was the birthing scene- first off, kind of gross and gory for PG 13? I covered my eyes and almost threw up once. I also love it how Edward is all holding the baby as Bella is dying and I'm all, "DUDE! Put the baby down!" and that is so typical guy. A woman pops a baby out and the dad is all, "Wow-- this is awesome" as the mom is all writhing in pain or dealing with a placenta, or having to get a shot in her va-jay-jay for stitches and just you know- completely oblivious. So rude. Anyways. I was also really wanting more sex scene. It better be more graphic in the deleted scenes on the DVD otherwise I'll be stabby. Fucking teenagers ruin everything.

But overall? It was a good time with some great friends. I'm already excited for the final installation of the series... and you know I'll be there at midnight. Or more realistically, at dinner time.

And for those of you who want to know.. did I ever get an Edward cup? Yes. Yes, I did. Because you know my stealthy ninja ways totally grabbed the cup from the schmoopy couple in front of me when it became clear they had more pressing issues to deal with than the cup. Then I also grabbed another one that someone foolishly left behind. So now I have two. And a Jacob cup. I gave my other Jacob cup to Angie because she loves him and I won't fault her for that because she's young and will see the light some day.