weekends...

I love weekends. I love lounging in bed way past the Sun's wake up call. I love drinking coffee beside my husband (a real treat, since he leaves the house about an hour before I do in the mornings). I love not necessarily having to put on "real clothes" right away. I love chasing the pup all day. I love that the biggest decision to make is whether or not to make cinnamon rolls or hop in the car for a McDonald's breakfast. I love catching a movie in the middle of the afternoon.

This weekend we saw Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief this weekend. It was a pretty good movie, so good that I decided to start the book, too.

Sunday nights are my least favorite part of the weekend. The dishes in the sink mock me. The pile of laundry that I neglected all weekend snarls at me. The stinky trash has to be taken to the curb and lunches need to made. The idea of having to go in to work tomorrow makes me want to put a stop to the ticking clock, snuggle up to the hubs, and avoid being an adult.

four fast years...

four years ago today, I stood beside the Atlantic Ocean and vowed my life to the only person I've ever felt truly at home with. I can still feel the butterflies, the sunshine, the excitement.



I can't believe it's been four years already--and I love him more x 4!! I am so lucky to still be holding the hands of my best friend (our hand ceremony).

I know why the caged bird sings...

So, we're trapped in the house again. We tasted freedom (it was sweet, like apple pie), and now here we are again. We had horrible winds all day, creating huge piles of snow. We didn't even attempt to shovel, and the plows never came through today. Have I mentioned that I hate winter?

So, nothing really fantastic or exciting to report on today. The hubs and I were able to do some much needed home repairs during the snow storm, and now I'm proud to say our guest bathroom is looking really great! A few more improvements (a new counter top/sink), and then it will be completed!
here are a few before and after pictures of the bathroom--

before:

after:

As you can tell, still need to fix the sink. But it's a work in progress. We'll be saving up some money to get that fixed, and will hopefully be able to replace it this spring....


that is, of course, if spring ever gets here. Until then, we'll keep watching and waiting for any sign of green grass or a flower, or a little blue bird to let us know that it's time to thaw out.

who was the fool that started romanticizing the notion of being snowed-in?

I detest winter.

I've asked myself (often out loud in a fit of rage while fighting a losing battle with the shovel), "why did we leave Georgia??!!??" In Georgia, the words "snow blower" are profanity, not something you should purchase at Lowe's to add to the rock salt, shovel, and plow that are now living peacefully next to your SUV. Unfortunately, my garage is short of both a plow and a snow blower. But not to worry, I can already envision yet another trip to Lowe's where we will spend entirely too much money (thus giving me another round of palpitations) on a snow blower, so we can join the masses of yankees.

all of our neighbors are old, and thus, they they take care of each other... as in: "oh, you were there for the black plague, too? Fantastic! Let's be friends, and I'll come over with my lovely snow plow and get your drive way ship shape in no time." And then we move in... and they say: "look at those young little whippersnappers, with their shovels. Fools. Let's pretend like we don't see them sweating in this cold while trying frantically to shovel these mounds of snow. ba-ha-ha-ha. Juveniles!"

What do you do when you are snowed in, and there does not appear to be an end in sight? Blog. Log massive amounts of time on Facebook. Nap. Eat junk foot. Cry, while remembering the heat and sunshine of lovely Savannah. Look out the window and cringe. Fret that you'll never ever see green grass again. Realize that the joke about milk and bread and toilet paper really isn't a joke after all. Pretend you really wanted to put on 4 layers of clothes to shift piles of snow around. Drink hot chocolate. Convince yourself that spring will never come. Eat more junk food. Make babies. Nap more. Pray that you'll survive and won't be forced to eat your spouse like that creepy movie.

‘Cause if the birds and the flowers survive then I’ll make it okay

peeing on sticks...

am I the only person in the world who isn't either a.) pregnant or b.) the mother to a rowdy bunch of ankle biters? Seems like every where I look somebody is rubbing their giant baby bump or nursing their little bundle of joy, or telling their adorable (and sticky) three year old to "choose your words".
Have you noticed, when you want something REALLY bad, everybody else already has it? While you're waiting, semi-patiently for your new prize to come out of lay-away, everyone else is parading it around? But my "prize" isn't even in lay-away, it's in that magical store that I don't have a club card for.
I have spent so much money for items I'm just going to pee on. Each one with a big fat negative. And when I see that dreadful negative, I want to throw the EPT across the bathroom, with all of my might... as if getting peed on wasn't the worse punishment for it.