Friday, June 29, 2007

...But I'll probably still drive by the house and stalk them

Yesterday we handed over the keys to our old house. It's done, over, GONE!

I feel a million pounds lighter now. Things got a little scary the day before yesterday when their realtor mentioned some bullshit about water in the basement (it's a 100 year old house. It's damp down there. No one's going to finish it. Get over it.). He of course pointed out that the buyers weren't worried about it, but he felt it was his duty as their representation to point it out. Whatever.

I went into the closing with a bit of trepidation. I was scared that they were going to surprise us at the last minute with some demands, but they didn't. The whole thing went rather smoothly actually.

They assured us they would bring any residual mail we might get there over to our store (as they are sometimes customers), and filled Jim in on some of the projects they had planned for the house.

It was all friendly and cordial and wonderful.

The most wonderful part though was when we got home and I sat down and wrote fat checks to the credit cards companies. Paid in full, motherfuckers! Whoo Hoo!

Tomorrow the girls and I leave for a family wedding in Arizona, and now I feel like I can actually enjoy the vacation. No worries. No problems.

Watch some asshole try and hijack the plane. He might be aiming for 10,000 virgins, but all he'll be getting a 10,000 punches to the peen, courtesy of me.

No one's going to harsh my buzz, man.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

For your scrapbook

Author, Goddess and all around Kick Ass Woman, Amy Guth tagged me. She apologized for doing so, but what she doesn't know is that I have had nothing of interest to really write about, so I am thankful for the diversion that is the meem...or meme...or however the fuck you spell it.

The Rules are:
~ Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves.
~ The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed.
~ At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

1. As an angry, hormone-driven, shiftless college student I swore up and down I would never get married but if I did, I certainly didn't want to have children. It all seemed so pedestrian and booooring.
15 years later I am a married housewife with two children. And I really really love it.

2. I not only read but have a subscription to Better Homes and Gardens. I get excited about articles that discuss storage and decorating. I drool over gardens and the latest in high tech appliances. Some people are into skin flicks. I'll take house porn any day.

3. I am an obessessive list-maker. I'm not just talking 'jot it down on the back of a receipt' kind of lists. My lists are categorized and sometimes color-coded. I've been known to re-write a list if it's too messy.

4. I am a control freak (see #3). It's starting to rub off on my oldest daughter so I am taking pains to reign it in a bit. It's a hard habit to break though.

5. I talk a lot. A lot. Get a few drinks in me and you will most likely go home with a headache from all my yapping. I can't help it. I apparently think I have a lot to say.

6. I have 10 tattoos (11, if you count the one that got covered up by a different one). I am not done.

7. I've had just about every color of hair there is. I used to shave my head after I got tired of a color so I could start fresh.

8. I smoke. I drink. I'm an Atheist. I swear a lot. I eat red meat like I'm going to win a contest for doing so. And I make no apologies for any of it.

I'm not going to tag anyone, but I am going to direct yous to an event held by the tagger of this fine post: Check it.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Because the neighbors don't think we're weird enough already

Yesterday my husband finally got to use his Father's Day gift: a kick ass self-propelled lawnmower. Aren't I sweet? In case you might find the gift a bit self-serving, please know that I wanted and got a new vaccuum a few years ago as my Mother's Day gift.

It's all about practicality around here.

The grass was getting pretty long, especially with all the rain we've been getting so it was high time Jim got out there and did something about it. I was busy in the house putting away the last of the kitchen stuff. I took a break to peek out front to see how the mower was treating him, and saw this:

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Something tells me we won't be getting any social calls from the neighbors for a while. At least until they figure out that, aside from my husband's obsessions with hats as of late, we are a fairly normal family.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

The Haps

Well, we're almost through the first full week at the new house and all's well.

I had my surgery yesterday and am feeling way better than expected. A little twinge here and there, but nothing a little Tylenol with codeine can't handle. It was actually nice to have a little forced down time.

My realtor sent us a thank you gift, and it arrived on Thursday. I don't know how to use it but when I figure it out, I figure she's saved me about 4million dollars (plus tip) a year at Starbucks. Rockin'.

Now that we're moved in and the surgery's all done, it's time to start gearing up for the rest of the crazy summer.

This weekend I'll be in Arizona for my cousin's wedding. Most of my Dad's side of the family will be there, and they will be meeting my girls for the first time. Seeing as most of them have lived in New York or thereabouts for their whole lives, I won't be the least bit surprised if my long gone east coast accent rears its head by the end of the weekend.

After that it will be an endless parade of kiddy birthday parties, a Fourth of July party here, then maybe a weekend trip to St. Louis. Somewhere in there I'm planning a garage sale to get rid of all the useless shit I discovered hidden in the back of several cabinets at the old house.

I feel like this summer is going to fly by and it's barely started.

The only thing not going by quickly is the dogs' adjustment to a new place. Boy dog has shit in the house on a number of occasions. He is very lucky I love his dopey self, or I might have put someone else's address and phone number on the new ID tags.

Sunday, June 17, 2007


Tonight is the last night we will be sleeping in this house.

The movers are coming tomorrow to take all of our furniture, including our beds, to the new house. We'll be back through the next week or so to get the rest of the little stuff (that we probably don't even need at the new house, but have to get out of here anyway), but we won't be living here after tonight.

I've moved so many times in my life, but this time it's different. This was my first house. Literally my first as my parents didn't own a property until I moved away from home.

I was so excited to be a homeowner when we purchased this place. I had never lived anywhere that I could paint the walls any color I wanted to--that I had my own fenced yard, my own washer and dryer, my own garage.

My children were conceived, brought home from the hospital and raised all their short little lives in this place. Hell, even my dogs don't know any other place as home.

Am I crazy for feeling like I am betraying "old house"? I'm not completely loony. I know houses don't have feelings. It just seems like I've been in such a rush to get the hell out of here that I'm not appreciating what this house has meant to me--warts and all.

It's going to take me a while to get used to sleeping, showering, cooking and just living in a whole new set up. I think I'll feel like I am visiting for a while, or housesitting maybe, until it all really sinks in that the new house is home.

I was putting all our ktichen stuff away today and it felt so strange to see all this familiar stuff in such a foreign environment. I almost felt panicked--like I had to have it all "just so", as if I couldn't change it once it's been placed. I think I just need everything to be back to normal right this second, or I'm going to fall apart.

My inlaws were in town today and my Father in law helped my husband put up some new curtains in the living room. My Mother in law kept asking me to come in there to "tell them how I want them". Fuck, how about left to right? I don't care. Just hang 'em straight, ferchrissakes.

I don't want to make any more decisions. I don't want to paint anymore. I don't want to spend any more money at Lowes, Bed Bath and Beyond or Target.

I just want to move in, lay down on my same broken in, dog hair-covered couch and watch a rerun of a show I love.

The one I really really don't want my Mom to read

Not that I want her reading any of them, but this one in particular might send her over the edge.

Katie Schwartz (who, if you don't know by now, ya' really should. She's, as she might put it, "tits to the Nth degree") tagged me.

"For this meme, I'm going to ask you to answer three (hopefully not dumb) questions: What is the dumbest question you ever been asked? Why was it it dumb? And, even though it won't help, because answering a dumb question never does, what's the answer? (Or, as I like to think of them: The Big Dumb Question, The Big Dumb Reason, and The Big Dumb Answer.)"

My sophomore year of college, I was at a party minding my own business when I suddenly found myself in the bathroom making out with some guy I just met. What? It happens. Visitor Guy was in town visiting a friend (who also happened to be a friend of mine).

After the party, we went back to Mutual Friend's (known from here on out as MF) house to continue the party.

This lead to that which lead to another few things and...well, you get the picture. Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look up and it's MF. I should state at this point of the story, Visitor Guy and I had commandeered MF's bed. Being Visitor Guy, he obviously didn't have any other place to go to, and I didn't want him hanging around my house.

So, I feel this tap on my shoulder and I look up and MF is standing there, looking nervous.

"Can I join you?" He asks.

"Uh, what?"

"Can I...ya know...join you?"

For the record, I did not laugh in his face. In fact I was uncharacteristically gentle in my response. Maybe it was the Xanax I had taken a hour before. Who's to know?

I calmly told him no, and kicked him out of his own bedroom to "hang out" with his out of town guest.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Pig Sty

Dear people who sold us this house,

I don't remember anywhere in the sale contract asking for you to leave random hairs everywhere, but thanks for allowing me the pleasure of wiping someone else's pubes out of the bathtub. That was a real treat!

It's also super awesome that we get to buy new outlets (not outlet covers, actual outlets) for every room in the house. I think it's soooo great when people are too lazy to paint around them. Kudos to you!

Let me extend my heartfelt gratitude for the bleach spots on the carpet in the basement as well. That looks SO GOOD right there in the open like that!

By the way, it's called a fucking mop--floppy strips of material attached to a long stick, dipped in cleaning solution, rubbed about the floor in the event there is an accumulation of dirt. Check your local supermarket. I hear they sell them there.

Yours Truly,

Friday, June 15, 2007

Proof that I have not lost my badassedness to motherhood*

On Thursday nights I meet a couple friends out for a drink. I don't make it out every week but when I do, it's a nice break in the week--especially in these last few months with all the house craziness.

Yesterday was particularly deserving of an adult beverage. I took the girls to the pool in the morning, then took them grocery shopping, then had to get home to wait around for the home appraiser. My girls really should have laid down for some "quiet time" because they were really wiped out from swimming, but I knew they would get interrupted by whoever was coming over to appraise the house. So, no nap.

Nevermind that the guy was an hour and half later than he said he was going to be, and my kids were practically clawing at their face in exhaustion. When Mina gets overtired, she takes on all the characteristics of someone with Tourette's Syndrome, randomly shouting and screeching. Audrey just whines and cries at every single imagined infraction of the universe.

Add to all of this the fact that I was on day one of Bleed Fest June '07, and even though I had taken enough ibuprofen to put down a racehorse, I could still feel my shitty baby purse cramping away.

By 5:30, the noise level in my house had reached monkey house proportions, and I was ready to put my head in the oven.

By the time 9:30 rolled around, I was more than ready to get that drink.

I got to the bar and strolled down to the end to find my friend and her husband waiting. She got up to play some songs on the jukebox, so I followed her over to chat. While we standing there, some drunk fuck stumbled by and literally stopped in his tracks and proceeded to give her a full body leer. He was gross and grizzled and smelled like ass. It was kind of funny the way he didn't even try to hide the fact that he was checking her out head to toe.

We shrugged it off and went back to picking songs.

When we sat back down, Drunk Perv happened to be sitting a couple seats down, across the L-shaped bar. My friend than told me that Drunk Perv had been sitting there the whole time she had been there, trying to make conversation with her husband and her for a good hour. By the time I got there he was so drunk, he was now just staring at us. He might have been drooling. I don't know. It was kind of dark in there.

After trying to ignore him and talk with my friend, I couldn't take it anymore. It's really hard to have a conversation when someone is boring holes in your breasts with their eyes, and not even trying to be subtle about it.

Finally, the day caught up with me. All the yelling and crying and waiting around and trying to pack and make lists for the next day and thinking about my surgery and already being so tired from it all spewed out of me.



"I don't know if you're staring at her or him or me or WHAT, but you need to stop fucking staring over here because it is seriously creeping me out."

"I'm just listening to the music..."

"I don't care what you're doing, but you need to stop staring at us while you do it."

So he got up and stumbled out of the bar.

I don't know what came over me. I mean, that's something I always want to say when this type of situation comes up, but I never do. Sure, I've had my share of "incidents" in the past, but it's been years since I got to break a bottle on someone's head, put a cigarette out on someone's back, hit someone in the head with a pay phone receiver or break a broomstick jabbing someone in the back....but I digress.

I'm an adult now--an adult with two small children. I'm not supposed to yell at drunken slobs for skeeving my friends and I out--or am I? Who's to say I can't still throw down (verbally only-I don't feel the need to physically harm anyone unless they pose a threat to my family)?

I feel pretty good this morning.

*That picture is from NYE 2005, and yes that is a Girl Scout shirt and sweater.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

"You know what I love about summer?"

That's what our insurance guy asked us when we ran into him in the grocery store parking lot last night.

Answer: "Chicks in tube tops."

Was he leaning in my car window when he said it? Yes.

Was I wearing a strapless dress with a tube top-like chestal area? Yes.

Was he staring directly at my breasts when he said it? Yes.

Did my husband say anything? No.

Did I? You betcha.

We did find out we get some cash back after we close on the house because we somehow overpayed our homeowner's insurance.

Tit for tat I suppose.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Our house is sold...again

Done. Done. Done.

It's a done deal.

After sending over an electrician on their dime, they are ready to sign on the dotted line.

To say that I am relieved would be quite an understatement.

This weekend I will finish painting at the new house and Monday the movers come to do their thang. By Monday evening we will be permanent residents in what I am convinced is an alternate universe.

I got so used to living on this loud, busy street with a revolving door of neighbors that I guess I just got used to the chaos. I "forgot" that it's not normal to have to call the cops on the people across the street because they think it's a good idea to have an obnoxiously loud party on a Wednesday night. I got used to averting my eyes from the scary thugs standing in line in front of me at the corner store. I didn't blink an eye when my power and gas bills edged closer and closer to my mortgage payment every month.

At the new house, when I turn on the air, it actually gets cool in the house in less than an hour. When I sit in the backyard, I can hear birds chirping. People wave and say hello when they see you outside. There aren't empty Colt 45 bottles and cigarette butts in my front yard every morning. The garbage men don't fling the garbage cans in the street after they dump them.

Today I took the neighbor girl at the new house up on her offer to babysit. I had some painting to work on (will it ever end?). I figured she could get to know the girls with me there and it would make it easier when she came over for an "official" babysitting gig.

I had nothing to worry about. As soon as she walked in the door, the girls whisked her away to the playroom in the basement and kicked me out every time I tried to go down there to check on them. I'm pretty sure they like her better than me at this point.

I mentioned that I was a hairstylist and her adorable little 15 year old eyes lit up. When I told her that I could do updos, she got giddy. Methinks I'll be trading some highlights and prom do's for some babysitting. Sweet.

I wish the new owners of this house well even though I feel like they kickfucked us there at the end. As I type this, some fucktard in a $500 car with a $2000 stereo is thumping his bass down the block, and all I can do is laugh.

It is so not my problem anymore.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Lowe's owns my soul

Can I just say again how much I love my new house? Not just the house, but the whole neighborhood.

Saturday morning, as Jim and I were emptying out the storage units, a neighbor from down the street came over and introduced himself and his oldest daughter. He handed me a list of all the other neighbor's addresses and phone numbers. He welcomed us to the block and said that if we need anything, to just give a call.

Yesterday the neighbor girl next door came over and offered her babysitting services. I could have hugged her.

We met the guy across the street too. He's thinking about selling, but when he saw that we had two little girls (his daughters are close in age to mine), he said they would probably stay. Then he invited us over for a drink after we got all moved in.

I know we bought the right house.

We spent most of the weekend painting with the help of some good friends and a little pizza and beer.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Girls' rooms (I've decided these rooms need a white wood trim at the top, next the ceiling):
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Painting the window and floor trim white next weekend:
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Kitchen demo. Suck it, Ty Pennington:
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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

When we took the cabinets down next to the sink, we found this on the wall. Dave Brown sounds like a man defeated:
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This Saturday I'm going to tackle painting the second coat on the light stuff in the living room, painting the master bedroom and prepping the kitchen walls for its pretty new color.

In other news of the worst case scenario kind....

Our buyers might be hitting the road.

The home inspector came Friday and suggested that at some point the wiring on the second floor be rewired. They freaked out, and asked that we have it done.

After consulting with an electrician friend of mine, I promptly opened a beer and fought back tears. What they are asking us to do, in the two weeks before the planned closing mind you, is to have done what could cost over $2000. It's not going to happen.

We offered them a little cash towards fixing it, but I have the feeling they aren't going to go for it. We are screwed, big time.

My realtor is supposed to call today to tell me what they said, but I'm not going to get my hopes up. It looks like we'll be putting that motherfucking for sale sign back into the yard.

On the bright side, we'll be living at the new house in a week, so I won't have to worry about keeping the old house clean. Also, that was the only problem the home inspector found with the house. Everything else is piddly stuff that is easy to fix.

On the not-so-bright side, we very well might have two house payments in the not too distant future.

Whiny, tear-laden posts to follow shortly.

Thursday, June 7, 2007

This New House

My washer and dryer came yesterday (and so did I when I saw them!). I haven't been this tingly in my girl bits since I bought the Dyson.

Dryer goodness:
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Washer love:
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I've pretty much mapped out what colors are going in each room, and hopefully I can get all the painting done this weekend. The bedrooms aren't very big, and I think the prep work will be the biggest time suck of the project.

Master bedroom will have a muted aqua blue/brown color scheme. It's a seafoam-ish green now. The mirrored closet doors will, much to my husband's dismay, be replaced with trifold doors:
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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Mina's room is tan right now, but will be a pale pastel pink:
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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Audrey's room is a gorgeous blue, but I wanted to 'girl it up' a bit. It will be a light lavender:
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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

The living room is an ATROCIOUS burgundy red--just cave like and wrong for the size of the space. I'm thinking of going against type and doing three walls in a creamy tan-like color, with an accent wall of chocolate brown opposite the fireplace (the girls are in the pictures to show scale, naturally):
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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

The upstairs bathroom needs a whole gut and remodel. It's not that anythings broken. I just changed my mind about liking the wood plank walls. The tile is way 80's, and not in a good way. We're going to do white subway tile up the walls and white floor tile, maybe relocate the tub closer to the window and replace the vanity with two pedestal sinks. I'm thinking citrus orange for an accent color. Before we can rip apart the bathroom though, we have to put a shower in the downstairs half bath. Either that, or not mind hosing off in the backyard.:
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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Then, there's the kitchen. I wish I got a close up of the cool back splash tile. It's this swirly pattern of blues and some green--very fun. Not that I didn't know that this was our perfect house already, but to add to the serendipitous nature of this whole thing, one of my very best friends has the EXACT SAME tile in her bathroom! Crazy.
The row of cabinets over the peninsula there is coming out this weekend as are a small cabinet over the fridge. I think I'm going to go with a blue-tinted white for the kitchen walls, and maybe light/weathered looking white laminate on the floor.:
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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

I'm going to be working my ass off this weekend, but at least this sweat equity is for our benefit as opposed to all the shit we put into our current house to sell it.

I got to meet our neighbor on the other side yesterday. A sweet elderly fellow who can't hear very well (probably a good thing considering how loud my family is).

He came over to let me know I left some lights on outside the night before. I thought he was complaining at first, but then he said he didn't want me "wasting any electricity". Unlike most people, I don't mind nosy neighbors. I AM a nosy neighbor. I see it as a kind of neighborhood watch thing. So long as he keeps his mouth shut about the goat sacrificing and midnight orgies, we'll get along fine.

I have yet to take my dogs over there. I should do that today so the boy dog can properly 'mark' every last blade of grass and the girl dog can run into the sliding glass door (her eyesight is not so great).

Work in progress photos coming this weekend!

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Home Sweet Home

The closing went well yesterday, much more quickly than I remember our first one going.

Afterwards, we went straight over to the new house to meet up with the friends that were watching our kids to spare them the boredom of watching their parents sign their name 87,000 times. Another couple friends came over with their kids and we ordered pizza and drank a few beers. I suppose that was our first "dinner party". It was wonderful.

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We all wandered around the empty house discussing furniture arrangement, paint colors and future remodeling projects. I can't wait to get my hands dirty making all the ideas a reality.

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We also got to meet one set of neighbors--three of them from the house next door. Jim went over to borrow a phone book and met the matriarch of the family. When we were leaving, the daughter and granddaughter were outside and I chatted with them for a few minutes.

They seemed really friendly and "mellow"--real earthy type people. I'm not a big fan of hippies, but I'm not going to make any judgement calls here (yet). They offered us a free tree for our front yard! How nice is that?

It's so much quieter in the new neighborhood. No Harley's rumbling down the street, no fire trucks screeching by at all hours, and no bass-thumping asshats rattling our windows.

The backyard is heaven (but in need of some serious landscaping help--as is the front yard. All in good time). I've always wanted a home that I could have gatherings at comfortably, and now I do. I'm so so happy.

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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

The batteries on my camera died pretty soon after we got there, so this is just a little taste of the obnoxious amount of 'before and after photos' I am going to share. Brace yourself.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Move in day approacheth and other weird shit

We close on our new house today!

I called the movers yesterday to set up a time to get the big stuff over there Monday, the 18th. I bought my new washer and dryer on Saturday--decided to go with the LG front loaders--on sale plus 0% financing did the trick. I bought our dining room table (well, really "eat in kitchen" table) and chairs on Sunday. Those were half off at Target--hooray!

All the utilities have been called, the cable/broadband guy is coming on Friday as are the storage unit people. I have a busy weekend of unloading ahead of me. In a way I don't even want to stupid units back (save for some photos and books). It's pretty interesting how much stuff we have done without since January. I plan on having a garage sale before the end of the summer.

And then there is all the painting I am facing. I actually enjoy painting. I didn't when we first bought our current house, and it showed. For some reason, in the last 6 1/2 years my painting skills improved and the fresh coat we through on there over the New Year's Eve holiday looks 100% better than the first.

I have to get the living room and all three bedrooms painted before the movers bring all of our shit over there. The kitchen, bathroom and basement can wait for another day.

We're also having the front of the house landscaped. There is a grading issue right up next to the house, and needs to be taken care of. Luckily we have a friend who happens to be a landscaper and will do it for a lot less than having to hire a bunch of strangers.

Oh, and I have to have some minor surgery on the 22nd.

I won't go into minute detail about what is up, but let's just say there are some unwelcome guests hanging out in my uterus and they are aren't things that will eventually be asking me to fill their sippy cups 87,000 times a day.

It's not the most convenient time for this to go down, but what can ya' do? The best part of all of this is I get to channel Jerri Blank every time I tell someone about it, "I have to go get my uterus scraped." Classic.

Don't worry. I'll be sure to blog all about it. Aren't you excited?

Saturday, June 2, 2007

Sometimes my nerditude knows no bounds

Your Score: Eden McCain

You scored 41 Idealism, 62 Nonconformity, 16 Nerdiness

I think you really want a donut.
Congratulations, you're Eden McCain! You've got a colorful past, and your persuasive abilities are second to none. In addition, you're a quick thinker with a solid amount of guts. Your best quality: The art of persuasion Your worst quality: A fondness for some stereotypically "bad" behavior

Link: The Heroes Personality Test written by freedomdegrees on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Yesterday I changed the course of history

At my house, smoking is relegated outside to the back porch.

Mornings, I sit out here with my coffee, cigarettes and laptop and ease into my day. I live such a charmed life, yes?

A few days ago I snuck out for a quick smoke break to find a butterfly frantically flapping its wings against the window, trying to find its way out. It was freaky, and this thing did not want to give up.

Two days later, the thing was still aflappin' at the window pane. "A" for effort, man.

It had been at it for so long, its wings were starting to fray, but it was hellbent on breaching the unbreachable.

I couldn't take it anymore. I set aside my disdain for touching any type of insect and carefully grabbed one of its flappers and threw it out the door.

What's that saying about a butterfly flapping its wings in China...

Friday, June 1, 2007

Freelance Hair Bitch comtemplates new direction in life

Sometimes I'll read a book or watch a television show and get so manically inspired to do something it invades my brain like a bad 80's pop song. Most of the time the feeling passes or a piddly little thing like reality steps in to bring me back down to earth.

My latest in a series of inspirational forays relates to my obsessive viewing of Shear Genius.

I'm a sucker for ridiculous reality TV. If one were to scroll through the saved recordings on my DVR, one would find everything from the spin off of Flavor of Love : Charm School to The First 48. It's all about balance, doncha' know.

Shear Genius was different from all the rest though.

I know it's because it's the first reality show that I could actually see myself participating in. I work pretty well under pressure, and can get along with almost anyone. I don't think I necessarily could have won the contest, but I think I'd at least have made a fair showing.

And here's where I decide I am inspired to step out of my comfortable bubble and do something. Cue dramatic soundtrack...

I'm seriously considering going back to cosmetology school to get my teacher's license.

I know I could do it, and Sallie Mae already owns a good chunk of my soul from my extended, yet unfinished experience at college. What's another few thou on top of the pile?

The only thing holding me back is finding the time to go. If I wait until my youngest is in kindergarten, I could pull it off easily but that's still two years away.

I could go at night, but a big reason I quit work outside the home was because I wasn't getting enough face time with the fam. However, from what I remember the teacher's program isn't that long (500 hours as opposed to the 1500 it took to get my regular cosmetology license).

I could talk myself in and out of this for hours on end.

If I do actually go through with it, what then? Will I be satisfied just accomplishing the goal? Do I really want to teach a bunch of would be Hair Bitches?

Yes and yes....sort of.

There were three main instructors when I went to beauty school. One was the owner, Julie. Julie was loud, flamboyant and her wardrobe would put even the most over-the-top drag queen to shame. She would sit back in her office, smoking her Virginia Slims in between roaming the floor, telling everyone how "pretty and talented" they were. We all knew she was full of shit. All she cared about was getting that tuition check every month. I don't know if it was the shoulder pads in her favorite turquoise Lycra jumpsuit or the way her hair crackled when a breeze came through, but we all loved her like a haggard, alcoholic great aunt.

Then there was Lori. Oh, Lori.

Lori was a small town girl with a penchant for eyeshadow. She sold Mary Kay as a second job and had zero self esteem. One time she decided to channel the Spice Girls and color the back of her hair a washed out red and put a hunka chunka of bleach through the front. One of my favorite memories of beauty school was the morning she walked in with this monstrosity of color and spent the first 15 minutes of classroom time going around the room to get our opinions of her new 'do. I'm pretty sure a lot of us had bitten a hole in our tongue by the end of it. Her painfully terrible self image combined with a barely passing knowledge of reading and writing skills made her my least favorite of the staff.

The third instructor was Patty. Patty was the task master of bunch. She should have been the one running the show, but was instead relegated to a second tier position. On orientation day she introduced herself, then told us that she does not, under any circumstances, take any shit from anyone. If we didn't like it well, the door's right there. She was instantly my favorite.

I figure I'll give a ring over there and see what all's involved in this potential time suck. I could step one foot back in the place and decide that I have enough crazy to deal with at home, and turn and run the other way.

Of course, it could be just the thing I need to get out of the house on my own more and also make a bit of my own dough.

Most importantly, my blog would become infinitely more interesting. That's all that really counts, right?

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I like stuff and things. I've been married for close to 14 years and have two miniature versions of myself running around (and it frightens me most of the time). I have never been nor will I ever be a vegetarian.