June Goals

  1. Sell the couch, the coffee table & the old TV stand on craigslist
  2. Go on a date with my husband
  3. Run at least once a week for the whole month
  4. Mail Dan at least two letters a week
  5. Get the downstairs disaster area organized
  6. Find a dress for the Wednesday wedding
  7. Pick a paint color for the downstairs bathroom
  8. Pick wildflowers
  9. Bake bread
  10. Find dining chairs
  11. Patch holes & paint in the living room

1 — Our old TV stand, that once worked great in our old apartment, has been sitting in our downstairs hallway for months now because I am a slacker.  No more though.  This is the month – I can feel it – that I will have a clear hallway.

3 — We were doing so well with the whole working out thing and then we got he plague and have been pretty useless ever since.  I keep reminding myself that it’s beach season over and over again in the hope my thighs will get the hint and just tone themselves up.

5 — The downstairs disaster area is this room at the back of our house where our treadmill lives.  Some would call it a master bedroom because it’s got a bathroom attached to it and a closet, but it’s a pretty small room, and there’s not much room in there for furniture placement due to the location of doors and windows.  Essentially, it’s like our home gym room, except that we have to walk through it to go to the bathroom down there which drives me insane because I hate that our guests have to walk through there to piss.  But alas, it’s the only good place for the treadmill because I’m sure as shit not hauling it upstairs so hopefully inspiration will strike at some point and I’ll be able to make that room look fabulous, or at least put away the random crap that’s in there right now.

8 — Pick wildflowers is on my 101 in 1001 list and since time is up for that list in November, I really need to get my ass in gear.

10 — Our dining table will be delivered on the 9th.  I am still not sure what sort of chairs I want to put with it because I’m indecisive as all hell.  I hope once I see the table in my dining room, I’ll figure it.

When did I manage to get so domestic?  How did that happen?

Also, the husband and I have officially been smoke free for an entire month, which obviously means we should celebrate with cake.


“Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square hole. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
— Apple Computer Inc.

We tested out a dog we were thinking about adopting yesterday but sadly it didn’t work out.  SadieMutt is super hyper and totally relentless when it comes to playing and the almost-dog, who has abuse in her past, spent quite a bit of her time here totally overwhelmed and shaking, espeically after a disagreement over a tug toy.  Oh well.

Happy Things: 81-90

81. Peanut butter on fruit.  Apples and bananas especially.
82. The yard. 
83. Bright colors on (almost) all my walls.
84. Tax returns.
85. A single flower on my kitchen windowsill.
86. Knowing that spring will get here eventually.
87. Hardwood floors.
88. Grilled cheese sandwiches (made by the Husband).
89. Bright red cardinals flying through my backyard. 
90. Squirrels tauting my poor HuskyMutt.

File under "things that make me feel old"

You know how sometimes a song will come on the radio and will instantly take you back to some point in your life when something major, miserable, or fantastical happened? Sometimes my brain alters that pattern and instead of a song taking me back to some critical point, something will happen and then I’ll remember something that happened before and then I’ll think of the song. For example, L. just left for Army basic training last week. Watching her stress about leaving made me remember when, five years ago, I was stressing about leaving for basic training, and thus reminded me of the song I listened to almost non-stop before I left for the big scary Army.

That song? “A Long December” by the Counting Crows. See, I was scheduled to go to basic training in January and thus, my one wish was for a long December. I know, it’s entirely too obvious of a choice for a theme song, but I guess I’m kind of a simple lady. Don’t judge.

A long December and there’s reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leavin’
Now the days go by so fast

It was neat, for lack of a better word, to watch L. get ready to leave for the military. It brought back so much that I’d forgotten. It’s five years later and things are decidedly less terrifying than they were all those years ago, but man oh man was I scared then. I didn’t know what to expect at all and, at that point, about the only military knowledge I possessed was what I had gathered from movies like Black Hawk Down, GI Jane and Full Metal Jacket, which, as it turns out, don’t prepare you for anything. Shocking, I know. I think the last month I had as a civilian, that long December, I was either in a state of complete and utter terror or blubbering sadness because OH MY GOD! ARMY! AND AWAY FROM EVERYTHING! AND HOLY SHIT!

Did I mention I was 19 at the time? And that I had only been away from home long enough to complete one college semester?

Drove up to Hillside Manor sometime after two a.m.
And talked a little while about the year
I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower,
Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her

But it was so much FUN. Or at least it was in my memory. It might have sucked a little bit at the time because I was tired, missing my friends and family, grumpy, sore, or sick, but looking back on it all I ever manage to do is laugh at myself and smile at the ridiculousness of being called “nerd” and “meatstick.” Since it’s partly my fault that L. has joined the military (I share blame with my husband), I really hope she has fun too and while she might not get the retrospective happy glow that seems to surround my memories right away, I hope, she’ll get it with time just as I have*.

Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass

+ Side note: Tomorrow I have an interview. Don’t tell anyone as it’s a secret but cross your fingers for me because I WANT IT and as awesome as life is right now, getting the job would only make my life more awesome and would mean I won’t be subjected to eating lunch at my desk while answering the phone each day.

*Apparently I have also turned into a giant ball of cheese. Luckily it suits me.

Secrets Set Free

I sent my first secret to PostSecret. Finally.

It was last Thursday and I’ve been pondering it’s sending for almost a full week now, hoping to find words to describe what it feels like to write down a deeply personal thought of mine and, without hiding parts of it, slip it into a mailbox for the world to discover.  All I’ve been able to come with is that it was a little nerve-racking, a little intimidating and one of the best things I’ve done for myself in a long, long time. The moment I slipped that postcard into the mailbox, I felt lighter, better, relieved and different.

I smiled the whole drive home, pleased with myself because I FINALLY took the time to define the problem, the hurt, the ache, the SECRET in just a few words. Before that it was always this looming ache that I couldn’t abbreviate. It took up so much space in my thoughts that I always seemed to come back to it. Now that it’s gone, now that I realize in spite of it I’m still okay, I can breathe.

Oddly enough, I don’t have any real desire to see my secret again. I always thought, in the process of thinking about my secrets, that I would want to see my secret posted on the website, or at an exhibit or in a book, but now, not so much. I’m content knowing that somewhere along its journey from Richmond, Virginia to Germantown, Maryland, someone saw it. And, as it turns out, that’s all I really needed.