And To All A Good Night...

Well it's Christmas Day and I feel this unmistakeable drive to wish you all a  very Merry Christmas.  This has been a lovely holiday season, filled withed with happiness and gratitude, regardless of what religion we practice.  I spent this holiday painting my bedroom, because we recently had our master bathroom remodeled and we needed to paint the bedroom to match.  Needless to say (for most of my readers), the bathroom remodeling has been a debacle.  I'll follow up with more on that once it's completed and I don't need to live in fear of retribtuion.  For now I'll just say that if you're considering hiring a well-known bathroom contractor to remodel your bathroom DON'T DO IT. 
So we spent the day repainting our bedroom and it turned out great  Then I made chili this evening and drank a bunch of wine so i'm a little buzzed as I write this so it won't be eloquent or even probably enjoyuable to read. 
So as I sit here, I'm thinking of Christmases past.  Of lasagnas at my grandmothers house.  Of playing an obsure game called "Password" and toying with homemade outfits for homemade Barbie dolls.  Of fixing twice-baked potatoes and traveling to downstate Delaware to celebrate with my Sussex County family.  Of home-grown gag gifts and name labels on the bottoms of plates at Mom-Mom's house.  Of being jealous of the sheer number of gifts my cousins received every year.  These are the memories that jump out at me for all the Christmases that linger in the past.  My husband often wonders aloud why I can't fix a big family meal without providing bread (even if it's just wonder bread with butter) and my answer is unfailingly that my Mom-Mom never served a meal without bread.  Why would I? 
I offered to make ham this Christmas and my husband offered, instead, that we make chili and cornbread.  And I realized how far away from home I am, that chili is the meal of choice over ham and potatoes.  And I'm okay with that except that ham and potatoes is my holiday meal of choice and I sort of miss it.  And so next year we will board a plane and head home to Delaware to enjoy ham and potatoes and ice and snow for Christmas.  And while we are there we will see my niece, who will be 2, and nephew, who will be 7, and my friends' children who will be a range of ages, from 5 to not yet one year old.  I savor the idea of being there for a Christmas with my family, after 4 years away.  And we will embrace the most precious of holiday traditions.  Not the day off from work or the enjoying of presents and wine; instead we will enjoy family and friends and the true wonder of Christmas.   Until then, and likely after that, my husband and I will continue our little family traditions on our own, hoping that we will not disapppoint our family too much by continuing our lives without the blessings of children.

A Really Good Life

These lyrics are resonating with me today:

"Sometimes there's airplanes I can't jump out
Sometimes there's bullshit that don't work now
We are God of stories but please tell me
What is there to complain about?"

There are times when you're stuck in a bad situation and don't know how to fix it, when you just want to run and hide and escape but you can't because there is no escape or easy answer.  It's just the way it is.  There are times when the inherent suckiness of life takes over and you can't see through the muck.  But those times don't last as long as you think they will.  And when they're over, they feel like distant memories that, hopefully, left you with some good perspective and life experience.  Even so, life is really really good and you can't give up. 

I need to be reminded of this every once in awhile, when I sink into periodic bouts of depression that make me want to curl up and disappear.  And then something happens, like a dinner party that reminds me of the amazing caliber of people I am lucky enough to call my friends, that turns it all around and helps me out of the funk. 

Despite the times that make you want to scream and cry, the good moments do happen.  They will happen.  And when they do, you'll be so glad that you're able to enjoy them, so appreciative that you can share them with people you love.

Somebody Needs to Buy Me Patience for Christmas

Fury.  Blind Rage.  Debilitating frustration.    If you would like to have these feelings on a daily basis for at least 3 weeks straight, you should ---

I plan to finish this post in approximately 1 week.  Check back later.   Perhaps by then I will have calmed down and I won't feel the need to write the things I so badly want to write now.

God, I'm Lucky (in a guilt-ridden sort of way)

Today I had to think about what things I don't like about my job and/or my boss.  And the reason I'm takling about this is because I had to really grasp at straws to think of something.  And that made me grateful for how happy I am in my job.  For the first time in my life I feel like I'm one of the people making things happen as opposed to just another paper pusher sitting in the part of the building that no one wants to visit.    In a world where there are far too many people who have no jobs at all, I feel like my cup runs over an unfair amount right now.  In order to assuage my guilt I am going to have to do something to compensate for my undeserved good fortune.  Adam and I dumped about a thousand dollars worth of clothing, shoes, and blankets in the clothing donation box over the weekend, but it still doesn't feel like enough.    When you read about Toys for Tots they say that this time of year results in so many donations that they can't even use them all and they store them in a warehouse for next year, so I just feel like I'd rather focus my efforts on a more forgotten charity... something that still needs help.  Any thoughts?

Two Things.

1.) My dog had paint on her ear today when we got home.  It's just so darn cute when that happens. 

2.) Please tell me you all get it that I exaggerate a lot on this blog because if I didn't try to make it entertaining, it would just be a rote description of my daily activities, punctuated by periods of PMS-induced fury.     Seriously, no one wants to read that.    I don't even want to read that.     So, like, if it makes you laugh it probably has a little imagination dust on it.   And by imagination dust I do not mean alcohol. 

Ugly Tree Topper

I should clarify this actually looked pretty cute in the store.  Of course, the horrible multi-colored lights weren't turned on at the time so all I was looking at were the multi-colored strands of tinsel.  I do take full responsibility though, as I pushed for this one  because Adam was suggesting a rather more expensive model and I'm cheap.  This is what cheap gets you, people.  Our house is where Christmas comes to die - or take meth, apparently.

Sober Sunday Update

Something must have gone right last night because today at the grocery store Adam dumped about 10 bottles of Naked Grape wine in the cart. Too bad I can't remember what I did to make him so supportive of my habit, 'cause I've got a few more vices I'd really like to take up.

In other news, I played wife this morning and made a breakfast of burnt pancakes and more delicious fatty bacon.  Then we hopped in the vehicle and headed off to do Christmas shopping.   I think we finished it all - the most fun part of course is buying the toys for the kids.  It's a good thing we don't live near my niece and nephew or else I would go totally off the reservation buying them presents.  The only thing stopping me now is the thought of having to ship all that crap.  Sorry kids.   Luckily you're not old enough to care yet, but I suppose one day I'll have to anty up if I want you to remember your weird Aunt Jill and Uncle Adam.

We also purchased a new Christmas tree topper, since ours was huge and elaborate and therefore fell off the tree the other night and took about 18 ornaments with it to a shattery death on the floor.  So the new ornament was $5 - and it is the most ghetto tree topper in the world.  I'll post pictures later.  I mean it is horrific.  And the best part is that even though it is very ugly, it's been on the tree for at least 4 hours now, and will likely remain there until the day we take the tree down.   Between that, our dismantled bathroom, dirty floors, and dangerous air quality - I would say we are well on our way to having a "Very Camden Christmas" this year.

The Naked Grape Pinot Grigio

So.. as you all know, last night I drank enough vodka to sterilize a small village and therefore today I felt like total garbage all day long.  Despite my long-lasting hangover, I grabbed some wine and took it to a friend's birthday party tonight - fully expecting that I would drink a glass or two and then leave the rest for the other party-goers.   I only took it because it was a party, and my poor husband was also still hungover and didn't want anything at all

So I took The Naked Grape Pinot Grigio - which I've never had before.  It is delicious.  I didn't get any of the weird chemically aftertaste that my usual Barefoot pinot grigio causes.  I don't have a headache or anything and - surprisingly (embarrasingly?) - I drank the entire bottle.  It was a small bottle but still.  I can't usually get through half a bottle of Barefoot without feeling like I"m falling off a cliff.  An entire bottle of Naked Grape and I only feel a little happy fuzz.  So I think I know what my new wine is.

The Only Reason I Haven't Posted Lately...

... is that I'm so furious I don't want to write anything that I will later regret when I find out the bathroom guys read it and then rubbed my toothbrush on their junk while my husband and I were at work. 

Actually I don't honestly think that will happen since my 4 readers don't include the bathroom guys.  But it could happen and, because of that, I'll keep my mouth shut until this job is finished.  Which is now scheduled to be Friday.  Not, of course, the Friday that just passed - which was the original completion date.  Rather, next Friday which is the newly estimated completion date and most likely just as bogus as the original one. 

So I will stick to safer topics, such as - I spent the better half of this morning concurrently fighting a hangover and dusting my house.   The hangover was due mostly to the copious amount of vodka I consumed at our work Christmas party last night.  Combining the vodka with juice, water, and fruit doesn't make it any less dangerous - hence the strange display of unskilled country line dancing and even worse misguided experimentation with getting crunk on the dance floor.    I'm actually not even sure if that's the right term, but that's what it felt like at the time.    Then I came home and ate an entire bag of salt and vinegar chips before passing out and waking up this morning with terrible stomach pains - I can't imagine why.  Despite the side effects of being so much fun, I had a blast last night with my work peeps.  I'm lucky to work at a place where you can let your hair down - our Christmas parties are never the sort of stuck-up, stuffy affairs where everyone is just sitting around trying to impress each other.  Unless of course my dancing skills impressed anyone.  In which case, it was totally on purpose.   

Luckily I have the sort of wonderful husband who can predict my morning-after misery and woke up early to make me coffee, eggs, toast, and bacon.  The real bacon, not the turkey bacon we've been trying to get used to choking down lately.    I suspect, though, that the problem with the turkey bacon is the chef (usually me) not understanding how to cook it differently than regular bacon.  I digress.  The food did wonders and then I spent the rest of the morning wiping off the 2-inch-thick layer of construction dust covering every inch of my house.  I'll spend the rest of the afternoon vegging out until it's time to go out and do the partying thing again tonight - except this time I'll probably stick to wine.    And I'll probably buy a bunch of extra toothbrushes too.  Just in case.

Should be Called "Snails Pace Bathrooms"

Good grief.  It's the end of the 3rd day and we still haven't moved out of the back corner of the bathroom.  What the hell, I feel like I could have done as much by now.  Now we have what I believe is called a "sub-floor" in the bathroom, a hole for the toilet with some sort of contraption screwed in to it, a shower "pan", some woodwork for the bench, and maybe some plumbing work done.    Okay so I couldn't have done any of it.  But after four beers, I am feeling like I could finish the job tonight if I had to.

What is left to be done you ask?  Walls, floors, rest of shower, toilet, electrical, vanity, mirrors, lighting, french doors, new walls... the list goes on and on.   So basically, like... everything. 

The living room carpet continues to be semi-clean when we return each day, maybe a little less clean each evening.  Adam finds this infuriating - I am not bothered by it as long as they're not tracking im mud.  I think it could be a lot worse, and as long as it's made right at the end I"m cool with a little construction mess.  Not much though, "Brad", if you are reading this!   Lights are always left on - no big deal to me really but I find it amusing.   Bonus points to the team for locking the gate every morning the way we do to make sure Pandora doesn't masterfully open it herself and escape.    She must be getting really worked up by all the activity because her feet are disgustingly muddy/dirty every night when we get home.    I think she must be out there digging holes to get out her anxiety.  And I"m doing a piss poor job of cleaning her feet before I let her in because its 4 degrees outside and I just want to get in the house and under my comfy blanket.  This carelessness results in Adam "checking my work" and then us having to dig extra dirt out of her toenails in the kitchen while she squirms and gives me that "why are you torturing me, i do nothign but love you" look.  Nothing gets my goat more than Adam checking to see if I did something up to his incredibly high standard and then finding out that I didn't.  Probably on purpose. 

Anyway, so I'm seriously unimpressed, a little tipsy, and stuffed on steak from Prime Steakhouse in Killeen (terribly tasty and nice atmosphere).  More updates tomorrow.    Cross your fingers, particularly for Adam that he doesn't contract typhus from all the horrifying tiny particles of dirt that were left in our carpet today.

Every Kiss Begins With "I'll Take the Garbage Out"

I love the Every Kiss Begins With Kay commercials, mostly because they aggravate the bejeezus out of my husband.  It's even better that they are a Sunday and Monday staple during football season, also known as the Christmas season.    (sidenote: for the first time, Adam just asked to see what I was writing and I had to show him this.  So now I probably won't get any diamonds for Christmas.  Good thing he asked now and not 20 minutes ago when I was working, though.  He really really hates that.)

So I think those commercials are just as annoying as my husband does, but I pretend that I love them just to make it worse on him.  I make kissy faces and ooh and ahh at the TV when they show all the corny looking jewelry and manufactured love scenes.     It's like Christmas come early every time I get to watch one with him in the room, paritcularly if I have done something to earn love that day, because then I can whine about how I never get any kisses beginning with Kay. 

Most of my kisses begin with something much less expensive.   I'm being facetious when I say every kiss begins with household chores (although plenty of them do).    Love lives in my house, and it doesn't need Kay Jewelers to keep it growing.  I don't know any other houses that need it either.    Kisses in real life are born of the life two people are building together.  They begin with a lost girl and a lost boy, finding each other in the dark of their lives and coming out together in the long-forgotten sunshine.  With a rough year in Tennessee, the first year of marriage.  With a spontaneous move to Texas and the following 4 years of building a life together in a place new to the both of us.  

Sure, life isn't always romance - it isn't always log cabins in the woods with sparkling wine and glittering diamonds.  It's messy, it's scary, it's funny, it's sad, it's wonderful.   I would ten-thousand times prefer a years' worth of "let me give the dog a bath tonight, honey" over a necklace.  

I also think that Lexuses wrapped in huge red bows are a little overdoing it for Christmas.  Who are these people....?  So the moral of this story is really just to remember what this season is really about as you are being bombarded with commercials that (frankly) I suspect miss the mark big-time.  There are families out there who are actually suffering just to put one toy under the Christmas tree for their children.  Worse, struggling to provide a decent holiday meal.  As you shop for your loved ones this year, consider purchasing a toy and donating it to Toys for Tots, or purchasing a meal to be provided to a local family from your grocery store.  Also don't forget your local dog shelter, which is most likely in need of blankets and toys to keep our furry friends warm and happy during the winter season.   These gifts will be appreciated so much more than any of us can imagine. 

Short Update on the Empty Hole Formerly Known as My Bathroom

Re-Bath was here promptly at 0830 this morning, in the form of two very polite young men who were here to start Phase I, also known as DEMO.  Adam and I both liked them; they won brownie points by offering to put drop clothes on the floor when they saw our pile of shoes by the door.  More brownie points by recognizing Pandora's breed of dog and petting her.  Some points deducted when they didn't seem sure of the overall plan of the bathroom and were agreeing to demo this and that willy-nilly, without so much as glancing at the plans.  I'm sure they knew what they were doing though.  We returned to the house today to a very cleanly demo'd shower/bath area and a freshly vacuumed floor.  Bajillions of bonus points there, though that didn't stop Adam from pulling out the dust buster. 

All in all, first day turned out well.   Tomorrow begins the second half of Phase I, where demo will continue.  Supposedly Wednesday will begin Phase II - actual progress.  Will keep ya posted!

The Great Finger-Cross of 2011

So this week, Re-Bath is coming in to re-do our bathroom and I am freaking out. 

Not in the least because I am paying an exorbitant amount of money in an already tightly budgeted atmosphere to get this done, but mostly because I am nervous about ending up with some shoddily assembled room that looks like it consists of rubber and plastic.  

I felt at home with the sales guy because he had a very prominent Philly accent and was very vocal about what choices he felt would be bad ideas when he came over to design the concept.  However, as is typical - I haven't dealt with the sales guy since and have heard mostly from a guy named "Brad" who seems to have very little time for his customers who have already paid 1/3 of the price and signed a legally binding agreement that can't be backed out of.  Which I now realize is the genius of Re-Bath - because they custom-make all their materials, they are within their rights to tell you that you're not getting out of it.  At the very least you're going to pay for all the stuff they've built for you - so you might as well go through with the rest of it too.  There's no changing your mind, in other words; and this makes sense to you when you are in the throes of designing the bathroom of your dreams. 

So I'm told they're in on Monday morning and out by Friday afternoon, which is very appealing.  So on Friday I called over there to find out what time I should expect them on Monday morning - because I'm going to stick around until they get here so I can show them where the water valve is, etc.  The first answer I get is "I don't know, call back at 10 when Brad is here.".  So I wait until 2 and call back and get Jeff, the elusive salesman.  He tells me between 7 and 8, which works well because I"m a workaholic and want to get to work.  Then Brad calls me at about 4 to find out if it's okay if the guys come at noon.  Already I am unimpressed.

So I said, no it's not okay.  Both my husband and I planned our entire schedules around this and we can't change them now.  And he says "oh okay, then we'll see you around 8" just as easy as pie and gets off the phone.  Which makes me wonder, what the hell was the issue that made you want to send your guys in to work in the middle of the damn day?  How much work can they possibly get done between noon and five?  Are they even going to stay until five?  I might come home early on Monday just to see if they're still here.   Or heck, I might still be here waiting for them to show up.

So, yeah.  I'm worried. 

Also I should note that since my husband oversees most of the construction work at Fort Hood, Re-Bath should also be worried.  If one thing makes me feel any better, it's that he is an even bigger stickler for perfection than I am and he is much less nice.

Big Bullies

I am increasingly disappointed in the amount of people I encounter on a daily basis who are just grown-up versions of the bullies they undoubtedly were as adolescents.  This afternoon I got bullied by a guy my own age who I can only guess assumed that if he pushed hard enough I would just do what he wanted.  A year or two ago, maybe I would have because I would have been trying to appease him, trying to be the people-pleaser that I am by nature.  Now I just don't give a shit.  So hate me.  I really don't care.  Think I'm a bitch.  I'm glad you do.  That probably means I've done something right.  I spent the better part of my early career making decisions primarily to make other people happy and it got me nowhere.  Those people I went out of my way to help didn't reciprocate my efforts; they took advantage of my good nature and then promoted complete strangers into the jobs I wanted.    And all these years later I can finally admit that they probably did the right thing, because they probably saw in me a tendency to appease other people that would eventually translate to doormat status.  I probably wouldn't have hired me either.   It's taught me a valuable lesson about learning to think before you agree.
So today I was very rude to the guy that tried to bully me.  And he told me I was being rude, which was maybe the first time in my entire life that a person has told me I was being rude.  And, actually, I feel sort of proud of it.  I did the right thing and, if anything, he deserved way worse treatment than what he got at my desk.  I hope he comes back and tries again because I'll be prepared.
The moral of this story - if something makes you feel icky, that is probably because it IS ICKY.   DON'T let someone push you into doing something you don't want to do - they are trying to make you feel bad in the moment so that you will give them what they want, but the result will only be that you feel even worse about it later if you give in!   Instead - stand your ground and realize that anyone pushing that hard for something without letting you think about it beforehand knows exactly what they're doing and it's probably not good.