Every year, when the California Mid State Fair rolls around, Ruben and I find one good concert to attend. You can see the details here and here for the last two years. The fair happens to fall within days of our wedding anniversary so, it usually becomes our gift to one another.
This year, nothing had really appealed to our senses. Journey and Heart were coming and while it would be cool to see them, we were a bit worried we would be the only people in our age group there to see either band willingly.
This morning, on our local classic rock station, they were announcing at 8:15 the newest band booked. It was promised to be of the same caliber as Aerosmith so, I tuned in at work to get the details. Then I called Ruben, “Its going to be Kiss,” I told him after the announcement.
“Kiss? With Gene Simmons?” he asked.
“Yep, Kiss.”
“When do tickets go on sale?”
“10 am next Thursday”
I got off the phone and continued my work day. Kind of excited but not thrilled.
He called back after the website had listed their press release.
“The website shows that they are going to have full pyrotechnics! Blood spitting! Fire breathing! And smoking guitars! We need to go!”
I sat silent.
“It’ll be the perfect date night!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Fire, blood spitting, and smoke…perfect date night.
“Tickets go on sale next week at 10am,” I informed him.
“How much?”
“They start at $42”
“And the best seats?”
“They are $67.”
“So, we need a super fast modem or we need to camp out.”
“Ok, honey. I’ll set my calendar at work.”
“To camp out? Great!”
“No Honey…”
Showing posts with label Marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marriage. Show all posts
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Wednesday - Hump Day
Lately, work has been a bit stressful for my husband (his firm is finally joining the rest of us, clinging for their jobs with absolute desperation) and so, I have been a bit more nurturing than I might normally be. I have cut out eating out at lunch (the horror!), I have cancelled cable (did I mention I work in TV?!?), and I have been making more macaroni and cheese than I care to admit (can I get a salad up in here?). I even decided to postpone any vacation plans we might have wanted to day dream about for the next year or so (sucking the LIFE out of me, here!!!)
Yesterday morning, the alarm went off and I attempted to shake Ruben out of bed. “I don’t want to get up!” he grunted.
“But its Wednesday,” I coaxed.
“Oh greeaaatttt…”
“Come on, you know: Wednesday – Hump day”
That’s when I realized that even before the sun comes up at least *those* synapses are firing for men.
“Oh really?” He asked as he scooted closer…
I wacked a pillow in his face, called him a perve and hopped in the shower.
The line must be drawn somewhere…
Yesterday morning, the alarm went off and I attempted to shake Ruben out of bed. “I don’t want to get up!” he grunted.
“But its Wednesday,” I coaxed.
“Oh greeaaatttt…”
“Come on, you know: Wednesday – Hump day”
That’s when I realized that even before the sun comes up at least *those* synapses are firing for men.
“Oh really?” He asked as he scooted closer…
I wacked a pillow in his face, called him a perve and hopped in the shower.
The line must be drawn somewhere…
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
That Crazy Man I Live With
One of my favorite bloggers, Heather Armstrong of dooce.com, brought this meme over from facebook and it was hilarious! I felt inclined to share some background by doing the same…Most of you probably don’t know a lot about Ruben. That might be a good thing!
What are your middle names?
My middle name is Breanne. Ruben's middle name is Dagoberto. In fact, he’s a Jr. I saved our son…He owes me BIG time for not becoming Ruben Dagoberto Ruiz III.
How long have you been together?
We’ve been married for 7 ½ years, together 8 ½ years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We met a month or two before we started dating. I thought he was creepy and thoroughly annoying. Two very attractive qualities, apparently.
Who asked whom out?
He asked me. In fact, he would not take no for an answer. I must’ve given 5 excuses that he knocked down right away…he was determined!
How old are each of you?
I'm 26, he's OLD 31. The 5 ½-year age difference, always gets played up on birthdays. God, I will never get tired of offering an arm of assistance for his tired bones as we walk out of a steakhouse on his latest milestone.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
We see both sets fairly evenly which sucks because my two sisters are local and his siblings are 3 hours away but we try to keep it fair and all…
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Um, our house is the bane of our existence. I cried the day we closed escrow and after fixing it all up to sell, we had a flood and got to start all over. We’ve now missed the possibility of having any equity in our house, thankyouverymuch recession and will be stuck in this evil little house until things change…
Did you go to the same school?
We both went to the same high school but he graduated in 1995 and I graduated in 2001. He went to Cal Poly for college and I went to Long Beach State
Are you from the same home town?
Yes, we are both from the pumpkin capital of the world, the lovely, the tiny, stop sign on a black top of a city, Half Moon Bay.
Who is smarter?
We could debate this for hours but this man refused to recognize “dollop” as a word. He also needs me to fix the computers, cook, make all decisions regarding our children…. On the other hand, he is smart enough to convince me to do all these things so…
Who is the most sensitive?
Me. I am the one who is a step away from being locked up in a padded room so, its safe to say ME ME ME!!!!
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Hmmm…is this a trick question? Wouldn’t that require us to eat out?
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
St. Maarten, Netherlands Antilles – part of a cruise last year, thanks mom and dad!
Who has the craziest exes?
I do. Hands down. Mine are the ones who keep reappearing in our lives, either hopelessly begging for me to consider their jobless ass for a second chance, or to hear that they are homeless and have put more white powder up their nose than Whitney Houston. They are some real gems, let me tell you!
Who has the worst temper?
Depends. I have the screaming and swearing kind of temper and he has the screaming and punch stuff kind. Only kidding. Have you met us? We are two of the quietest people EVER…
Who does the cooking?
Me. I taught Ruben how to make Campbell’s soup when we first got together and thought we were progressing as I tried to teach him to make maccaroni and cheese from the box. Do you know how HORRIBLY wrong Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese can go? Because I do!
Who is the neat-freak?
I used to be. When I lived on my own, my place was spotless. Now, there is crap EVERYWHERE! And I have given up hope!
Who is more stubborn?
I am of Irish/German decent. He is Mexican… you be the judge. But I will tell you this: Our kids are EVIL stubborn!
Who hogs the bed?
Ruben. At least every other night, I get pushed right off. Our bed is so miserably uncomfortable that the only place Ruben is willing to lay is right in the middle and he tosses, snores, kicks, shouts, and does this weird ballerina, twinkle toes thing.
Who wakes up earlier?
Me. Ruben would not be up until noon if he had the choice. But he lives with two children under 5 and me…he has no choice!
Where was your first date?
San Benito House Deli for lunch. I had the cheese and avocado sandwich on wheat, no avocado…back in the vegetarian days.
Who is more jealous?
Totally me. He gets calls from his octogenarian boss and I go ape shit: “Who was that? Why was she calling? Doesn’t she know its family time?” I might need to work on it.
How long did it take to get serious?
Well, we started dating in September and were married by July so…not long?
Who eats more?
He does. I would try to keep up but I would be the size of a bus! Damn his great genetics!
Who does the laundry?
He does his. I do everything else. And that includes folding the piles of clean clothes he just did but wants to leave sitting on top of the dryer FOREVER or until he chooses to wear it. Whichever comes first.
Who's better with the computer?
Me. Ruben has asked me how to access the internet with the bright blue e (of internet explorer) staring right at him. Yea….
Who drives when you are together?
Usually Ruben. We are both back seat drivers, though. I drive too fast, he drives way too slow and forgets the off ramp he needs on a regular basis.
Feel free to answer some or all of the same questions about your significant other in the comments, or leave a link to your website if you prefer answering there.
What are your middle names?
My middle name is Breanne. Ruben's middle name is Dagoberto. In fact, he’s a Jr. I saved our son…He owes me BIG time for not becoming Ruben Dagoberto Ruiz III.
How long have you been together?
We’ve been married for 7 ½ years, together 8 ½ years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We met a month or two before we started dating. I thought he was creepy and thoroughly annoying. Two very attractive qualities, apparently.
Who asked whom out?
He asked me. In fact, he would not take no for an answer. I must’ve given 5 excuses that he knocked down right away…he was determined!
How old are each of you?
I'm 26, he's OLD 31. The 5 ½-year age difference, always gets played up on birthdays. God, I will never get tired of offering an arm of assistance for his tired bones as we walk out of a steakhouse on his latest milestone.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
We see both sets fairly evenly which sucks because my two sisters are local and his siblings are 3 hours away but we try to keep it fair and all…
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Um, our house is the bane of our existence. I cried the day we closed escrow and after fixing it all up to sell, we had a flood and got to start all over. We’ve now missed the possibility of having any equity in our house, thankyouverymuch recession and will be stuck in this evil little house until things change…
Did you go to the same school?
We both went to the same high school but he graduated in 1995 and I graduated in 2001. He went to Cal Poly for college and I went to Long Beach State
Are you from the same home town?
Yes, we are both from the pumpkin capital of the world, the lovely, the tiny, stop sign on a black top of a city, Half Moon Bay.
Who is smarter?
We could debate this for hours but this man refused to recognize “dollop” as a word. He also needs me to fix the computers, cook, make all decisions regarding our children…. On the other hand, he is smart enough to convince me to do all these things so…
Who is the most sensitive?
Me. I am the one who is a step away from being locked up in a padded room so, its safe to say ME ME ME!!!!
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Hmmm…is this a trick question? Wouldn’t that require us to eat out?
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
St. Maarten, Netherlands Antilles – part of a cruise last year, thanks mom and dad!
Who has the craziest exes?
I do. Hands down. Mine are the ones who keep reappearing in our lives, either hopelessly begging for me to consider their jobless ass for a second chance, or to hear that they are homeless and have put more white powder up their nose than Whitney Houston. They are some real gems, let me tell you!
Who has the worst temper?
Depends. I have the screaming and swearing kind of temper and he has the screaming and punch stuff kind. Only kidding. Have you met us? We are two of the quietest people EVER…
Who does the cooking?
Me. I taught Ruben how to make Campbell’s soup when we first got together and thought we were progressing as I tried to teach him to make maccaroni and cheese from the box. Do you know how HORRIBLY wrong Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese can go? Because I do!
Who is the neat-freak?
I used to be. When I lived on my own, my place was spotless. Now, there is crap EVERYWHERE! And I have given up hope!
Who is more stubborn?
I am of Irish/German decent. He is Mexican… you be the judge. But I will tell you this: Our kids are EVIL stubborn!
Who hogs the bed?
Ruben. At least every other night, I get pushed right off. Our bed is so miserably uncomfortable that the only place Ruben is willing to lay is right in the middle and he tosses, snores, kicks, shouts, and does this weird ballerina, twinkle toes thing.
Who wakes up earlier?
Me. Ruben would not be up until noon if he had the choice. But he lives with two children under 5 and me…he has no choice!
Where was your first date?
San Benito House Deli for lunch. I had the cheese and avocado sandwich on wheat, no avocado…back in the vegetarian days.
Who is more jealous?
Totally me. He gets calls from his octogenarian boss and I go ape shit: “Who was that? Why was she calling? Doesn’t she know its family time?” I might need to work on it.
How long did it take to get serious?
Well, we started dating in September and were married by July so…not long?
Who eats more?
He does. I would try to keep up but I would be the size of a bus! Damn his great genetics!
Who does the laundry?
He does his. I do everything else. And that includes folding the piles of clean clothes he just did but wants to leave sitting on top of the dryer FOREVER or until he chooses to wear it. Whichever comes first.
Who's better with the computer?
Me. Ruben has asked me how to access the internet with the bright blue e (of internet explorer) staring right at him. Yea….
Who drives when you are together?
Usually Ruben. We are both back seat drivers, though. I drive too fast, he drives way too slow and forgets the off ramp he needs on a regular basis.
Feel free to answer some or all of the same questions about your significant other in the comments, or leave a link to your website if you prefer answering there.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The Ways We Belong Together
The other day (7/20 to be exact) Ruben and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. As a present, my parents gave us money to go out to dinner so, being that every dollar I get these days goes to something responsible, I forced us to enjoy the money and go out. We went to the Apple Farm in San Luis Obispo. Neither of us had been there in our adult life so it seemed like a nice choice. Normally, during dinner, we would casually talk about our days until an uncomfortable silence would set in and then, for the rest of the evening we would be pulling teeth from one another to get conversation going again. That night, that was not a problem.
Part way through dinner, we were talking about pet owning and Ruben said that I was a bad pet owner. I said, “Look who’s talking!” – he has a ferret that he never plays with.
“Ferrets are supposed to be loving and cuddly”
and he said, “So. Are. You”.
Way to be mean on a nice night out! Were we not supposed to be celebrating our love for one another? I swear!
That’s about when I swatted his forehead with a spoon covered in vanilla ice cream.
I think it was the best date we’ve been on in a long time.
Part way through dinner, we were talking about pet owning and Ruben said that I was a bad pet owner. I said, “Look who’s talking!” – he has a ferret that he never plays with.
“Ferrets are supposed to be loving and cuddly”
and he said, “So. Are. You”.
Way to be mean on a nice night out! Were we not supposed to be celebrating our love for one another? I swear!
That’s about when I swatted his forehead with a spoon covered in vanilla ice cream.
I think it was the best date we’ve been on in a long time.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Bump in the Night
When a sound comes crashing through the night and wakes me, I fully expect my husband to jump to his feet with a bat in hand and go scan the house, in hunt of the culprit and beat it to a pulp, assuming it isn’t one of the kids or pets.
This is never the case. Instead it goes a little more like this:
I startle awake and sink lower into the covers trying to think of what I had worn to bed and what could be making that noise at the same time. I whisper to my husband, “did you hear that?”
He of course replies that he did. I then get a bit impatient with him, or is that just the immediacy I feel from the terror triggering a need to pee. “well…are you going to go see what it was?”
He rolls over, sniffles a few times and huffs, “Why don’t you go look?”
Um hello?!? Because I’m supposed to be the wife in the relationship!!! “Please go look, I’m in my panties and a t-shirt, I don’t want to die in my panties and a t-shirt”
“Oh, so you are going to send me to die in my underwear?”
“Just go look – you have all those weapons”
I start to get whiny and beggy but I know, it will be me. He pushes me out of the bed and I stumble around in the dark. I sneak around the house, peek out the slider into the back yard and out the bay window in the front and then, I turn on all the lights I can. I wait a few minutes before moving, check in on the kids, open and close the front door, lock it again, and then finally turn off all the lights, go pee, and crawl back to bed.
“well?” He asks.
“Nothing” I sigh…
Five minutes later, it happens again and I lay in bed wide-eyed, waiting for him to get up.
He never does…
That’s my night in shining armor for you.
This is never the case. Instead it goes a little more like this:
I startle awake and sink lower into the covers trying to think of what I had worn to bed and what could be making that noise at the same time. I whisper to my husband, “did you hear that?”
He of course replies that he did. I then get a bit impatient with him, or is that just the immediacy I feel from the terror triggering a need to pee. “well…are you going to go see what it was?”
He rolls over, sniffles a few times and huffs, “Why don’t you go look?”
Um hello?!? Because I’m supposed to be the wife in the relationship!!! “Please go look, I’m in my panties and a t-shirt, I don’t want to die in my panties and a t-shirt”
“Oh, so you are going to send me to die in my underwear?”
“Just go look – you have all those weapons”
I start to get whiny and beggy but I know, it will be me. He pushes me out of the bed and I stumble around in the dark. I sneak around the house, peek out the slider into the back yard and out the bay window in the front and then, I turn on all the lights I can. I wait a few minutes before moving, check in on the kids, open and close the front door, lock it again, and then finally turn off all the lights, go pee, and crawl back to bed.
“well?” He asks.
“Nothing” I sigh…
Five minutes later, it happens again and I lay in bed wide-eyed, waiting for him to get up.
He never does…
That’s my night in shining armor for you.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
A Hairy Situation
For my entire marriage my husband has been clear about wanting me to forever look exactly as I did when he met me. Of course, that meant to me that I should change my look in every way imaginable to see if I could make myself even MORE desirable to him. It was simple in my mind, he just didn’t know what he really liked so, I cut off all my waist-length blonde hair and I changed make-up, I experimented with every tone of blonde dye there was, I got tattoos, and piercings, and you name it, I changed it at least 3 different ways. And this past year was no different.
This last time, I asked Ruben how he wanted me to style my hair next and having had very poor luck telling me to leave it alone, he told me to dye it dark – very dark. Not recognizing his reverse psychology, I did just that. I went to the salon and told my stylist to give me the darkest brown my complexion could handle. Boy was I surprised when I walked out of there 4 hours later looking Italian. I asked Ruben what he thought but he just shrugged the way he always did. So, I kept it up for four months. Finally, I was ready to go back – back to the way I looked when we got married. So, I went to the salon again but this time, my stylist, damn her, was on vacation so, I was seated with the newbie in the salon. She sat me down and asked what I wanted and when I showed her a picture, she immediately excused herself for a moment. Sweat bullets started to pour off my forehead. I had chosen to come in on the day of my birthday party and if this young, frightened chick screwed up my hair I was going to be pissed!
She returned after 5 or so minutes with the owner of the salon. A woman in her mid 60’s with spiky hair and an apparent urge to belong to Jem and the Rockers, needless to say, she was a bit frightening to look at, almost like a train wreck, terrible but you just can’t bring yourself to look away. She jumped right into my 18 inch comfort zone and said, “this will not be happening today” . My heart sunk. She spent the next half hour arguing with me about the fact that I was not a natural blonde, not now, not ever. She offered me heavy highlights and said to return in 6 weeks for more work.
I got the heavy highlights because I felt that some blonde would be better than none. I walked out of the salon with white blotches where the bleach had been left too long because – low and behold, I really was a blonde under that dye and the bleach really took. Despite my own insecurities about the look (I thought I looked like an albino leopard had planted itself on my head) I got a ton of compliments.
I of course, thought I could make it better. I could do what I had wanted because, after all, what would a professional know that I wouldn’t?
Perhaps that peroxide can lighten hair but not lighten dye?
Shit!
I went through 4 boxes of hair dye in one night and sadly ended up with the top 4 inches of my hair an white-orange color and the bottom, no different from how I left the salon. Through the course of the weekend I would dye my hair another two times, finally to a brown to cover all my mistakes and made an appointment to head back to the salon on Saturday.
I sat and bawled my eyes out at how terribly I had screwed up and my husband just sat there and laughed.
I went on Saturday and had them put it back EXACTLY the way it was for my birthday.
5 months later, I’m still slowly adding to the heavy highlights and killing my hair slowly to get it back to what it once was…
This last time, I asked Ruben how he wanted me to style my hair next and having had very poor luck telling me to leave it alone, he told me to dye it dark – very dark. Not recognizing his reverse psychology, I did just that. I went to the salon and told my stylist to give me the darkest brown my complexion could handle. Boy was I surprised when I walked out of there 4 hours later looking Italian. I asked Ruben what he thought but he just shrugged the way he always did. So, I kept it up for four months. Finally, I was ready to go back – back to the way I looked when we got married. So, I went to the salon again but this time, my stylist, damn her, was on vacation so, I was seated with the newbie in the salon. She sat me down and asked what I wanted and when I showed her a picture, she immediately excused herself for a moment. Sweat bullets started to pour off my forehead. I had chosen to come in on the day of my birthday party and if this young, frightened chick screwed up my hair I was going to be pissed!
She returned after 5 or so minutes with the owner of the salon. A woman in her mid 60’s with spiky hair and an apparent urge to belong to Jem and the Rockers, needless to say, she was a bit frightening to look at, almost like a train wreck, terrible but you just can’t bring yourself to look away. She jumped right into my 18 inch comfort zone and said, “this will not be happening today” . My heart sunk. She spent the next half hour arguing with me about the fact that I was not a natural blonde, not now, not ever. She offered me heavy highlights and said to return in 6 weeks for more work.
I got the heavy highlights because I felt that some blonde would be better than none. I walked out of the salon with white blotches where the bleach had been left too long because – low and behold, I really was a blonde under that dye and the bleach really took. Despite my own insecurities about the look (I thought I looked like an albino leopard had planted itself on my head) I got a ton of compliments.
I of course, thought I could make it better. I could do what I had wanted because, after all, what would a professional know that I wouldn’t?
Perhaps that peroxide can lighten hair but not lighten dye?
Shit!
I went through 4 boxes of hair dye in one night and sadly ended up with the top 4 inches of my hair an white-orange color and the bottom, no different from how I left the salon. Through the course of the weekend I would dye my hair another two times, finally to a brown to cover all my mistakes and made an appointment to head back to the salon on Saturday.
I sat and bawled my eyes out at how terribly I had screwed up and my husband just sat there and laughed.
I went on Saturday and had them put it back EXACTLY the way it was for my birthday.
5 months later, I’m still slowly adding to the heavy highlights and killing my hair slowly to get it back to what it once was…
Friday, July 20, 2007
July 20th, 2007
So, today is my 6th wedding anniversary.
For six years now my husband has put up with the good, the bad, the pretty, the pretty ugly, the crazy and the even crazier!
He has dealt with the melt downs and the excitements, the weight loss, weight gain, diets and gorging.
We have butted heads over having children and then how to raise them, what house to buy, what remodeling to do, where to work, and everything else.
He has suffered through all this and still wants to share a bed with me and for that, I say THANKS HONEY!
Now on to the seven year itch…wish us luck!
For six years now my husband has put up with the good, the bad, the pretty, the pretty ugly, the crazy and the even crazier!
He has dealt with the melt downs and the excitements, the weight loss, weight gain, diets and gorging.
We have butted heads over having children and then how to raise them, what house to buy, what remodeling to do, where to work, and everything else.
He has suffered through all this and still wants to share a bed with me and for that, I say THANKS HONEY!
Now on to the seven year itch…wish us luck!
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
My Best Friend's Wedding
Since the sixth grade, I have called one girl my best friend. She has stuck by me through the good, the bad, and the annoying. Even when we both moved far, far away, she was still just a call away and we always pick up like no time is lost. We have been through it all!
She is finally getting married. We have dreamed of her wedding for a long, long time. The grooms may trade out but the rest pretty much stays the same. I have been looking forward to the day when she gets married since I got married and now that she is, it just so happens that she picked the same day as my brother in law to get married. Could I be any more annoyed?
I don’t even LIKE my brother in law! We get along about 5 days of the year and the rest is just a nuisance. Like the scratching feeling of getting tattooed across your forehead.
He has been engaged for what feels like forever and he is a total Groomzilla.
I didn’t even know they existed but they must because he is one!
I am not even part of the freaking wedding party and I have to wear a certain dress to attend the gosh darn event! I threatened to not wear the dress and he threatened for me not to go to the wedding and my darling husband could take a different date. One that would wear the dress. And my husband stood by that decision. Trying to be the bigger person, I bought the dress. PS, its hideous on real people! Everyone who has to wear it hates it! I say we stage a revolt.
Anyway, so, I get the invitation to my best friend’s wedding and its on the same day! At the same time! And that means I get to be completely miserable in a dress that I hate while I miss a moment that I have been looking forward to for almost FOREVER because if I even sneak out for a minute to say hi, my in laws will never forgive me. Never!
He did this on purpose, I know he did. Just to make my life more miserable.
Link to the dress: http://www.davidsbridal.com/bridesmaids_detail.jsp?stid=2813&prodgroup=110
She is finally getting married. We have dreamed of her wedding for a long, long time. The grooms may trade out but the rest pretty much stays the same. I have been looking forward to the day when she gets married since I got married and now that she is, it just so happens that she picked the same day as my brother in law to get married. Could I be any more annoyed?
I don’t even LIKE my brother in law! We get along about 5 days of the year and the rest is just a nuisance. Like the scratching feeling of getting tattooed across your forehead.
He has been engaged for what feels like forever and he is a total Groomzilla.
I didn’t even know they existed but they must because he is one!
I am not even part of the freaking wedding party and I have to wear a certain dress to attend the gosh darn event! I threatened to not wear the dress and he threatened for me not to go to the wedding and my darling husband could take a different date. One that would wear the dress. And my husband stood by that decision. Trying to be the bigger person, I bought the dress. PS, its hideous on real people! Everyone who has to wear it hates it! I say we stage a revolt.
Anyway, so, I get the invitation to my best friend’s wedding and its on the same day! At the same time! And that means I get to be completely miserable in a dress that I hate while I miss a moment that I have been looking forward to for almost FOREVER because if I even sneak out for a minute to say hi, my in laws will never forgive me. Never!
He did this on purpose, I know he did. Just to make my life more miserable.
Link to the dress: http://www.davidsbridal.com/bridesmaids_detail.jsp?stid=2813&prodgroup=110
Friday, July 13, 2007
The Beginning of DIY
Ok, so now that we have moved back home there is much work left to do that, quite frankly, I have no interest in doing but, alas, it needs to be done so we don’t permanently live with concrete floors in the bathrooms and laundry rooms and well, so it doesn’t feel quite so much like camping!
My husband seems almost excited about these projects. You should see him! He is a superhero with a wrench, or whatever you call those things! We (I use the term “we” very loosely – you are better off reading “he”) started demolishing the master bathroom so that we could put in all the new pretty stuff that is patiently waiting in the garage and he was tearing out the cabinets bare handed!! Without one sign of butt crack!!! If that isn’t amazing I don’t know what is. So, this weekend, I think we can start painting and there is rumor of the new cabinets going in…I ‘m sure that, if given enough time without the kids this weekend, my husband could maybe even start thinking about the shower stall that has me completely stumped.
Man on a mission
My husband seems almost excited about these projects. You should see him! He is a superhero with a wrench, or whatever you call those things! We (I use the term “we” very loosely – you are better off reading “he”) started demolishing the master bathroom so that we could put in all the new pretty stuff that is patiently waiting in the garage and he was tearing out the cabinets bare handed!! Without one sign of butt crack!!! If that isn’t amazing I don’t know what is. So, this weekend, I think we can start painting and there is rumor of the new cabinets going in…I ‘m sure that, if given enough time without the kids this weekend, my husband could maybe even start thinking about the shower stall that has me completely stumped.
Man on a mission
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, People!!!
So, my dear husband seems to think that in order to write about something as monumental as our house and the fiasco we have been living that I must first, inform you, the readers of the disaster of January 14th, 2007.
Every once in a while, as though I enjoy things like being pinched or tortured in some small way, my husband will convince me that we should go up to visit his parents. I am not too particularly fond of these visits as you can almost read across my in laws’ foreheads, “We despise her!” when I walk into that home but, as a good wife, we go, anyway. Well, one of the first weekends in January, we went up to do just that. We spent a lovely time there eating three day old food that sat out uncovered on the stove that, even when fresh, I am fairly certain that I could not distinguish exactly what it was. I have my in laws to thank for my children’s complete immunity to food poison.
Any way, shortly into our drive home, we get a call from our neighbor to expect a disaster when we returned. Apparently, while we were away, the temperature dropped down to 12 degrees! In California!! And when our zillion year old copper pipes burst in the ceiling and thawed, they poured water all through the blown in insulation, brought the ceiling down and ruined everything from ceiling to wood floors along with all the belongings in between! Our neighbor (who should apply for sainthood, as far as I’m concerned) saw water pouring down our driveway from our garage door and decided it was a good idea to check in on us. It was then that he saw what was happening and turned our water off at the valve.
We made a u-turn, left the kids with the in laws, and headed home to discover the house was torn apart. Immediately, we tried to call the “24 hour Emergency Hotline” for our insurance, but wouldn’t you know, they were closed for the weekend and then the holiday. After 40 messages, we heard back from the insurance agent from hell that it could be about 2 weeks before they got an adjuster out there. Fabulous! The adjuster was rude, to put it nicely – really, I wanted to stick a boot up his rear end and see if maybe that would change his disposition for the better but thought best to do otherwise.
Weeks after going through every piece of everything we had and documenting it with description, price, photo and online price, we found out that our adjuster would no longer be working with us and had not submitted anything…Thanks so much, jerk! Now I really wish I had stuck that boot where it didn’t belong!
Though we had contractors to do most of the work, it really felt like we did everything ourselves, from clearing the place out to taking down the old fireplace and door jams to putting new light fixtures and switch plates in. I’m pretty sure my dear husband and I almost got divorced during the process of picking out new flooring and paint colors but, no, we’re still married. The total clean up must’ve been about 5 ½ months because we are just starting to move back in. I’ll throw in some pictures to horrify you all later. And the house we stayed while this all happened? Well, that’s a whole other story!
Every once in a while, as though I enjoy things like being pinched or tortured in some small way, my husband will convince me that we should go up to visit his parents. I am not too particularly fond of these visits as you can almost read across my in laws’ foreheads, “We despise her!” when I walk into that home but, as a good wife, we go, anyway. Well, one of the first weekends in January, we went up to do just that. We spent a lovely time there eating three day old food that sat out uncovered on the stove that, even when fresh, I am fairly certain that I could not distinguish exactly what it was. I have my in laws to thank for my children’s complete immunity to food poison.
Any way, shortly into our drive home, we get a call from our neighbor to expect a disaster when we returned. Apparently, while we were away, the temperature dropped down to 12 degrees! In California!! And when our zillion year old copper pipes burst in the ceiling and thawed, they poured water all through the blown in insulation, brought the ceiling down and ruined everything from ceiling to wood floors along with all the belongings in between! Our neighbor (who should apply for sainthood, as far as I’m concerned) saw water pouring down our driveway from our garage door and decided it was a good idea to check in on us. It was then that he saw what was happening and turned our water off at the valve.
We made a u-turn, left the kids with the in laws, and headed home to discover the house was torn apart. Immediately, we tried to call the “24 hour Emergency Hotline” for our insurance, but wouldn’t you know, they were closed for the weekend and then the holiday. After 40 messages, we heard back from the insurance agent from hell that it could be about 2 weeks before they got an adjuster out there. Fabulous! The adjuster was rude, to put it nicely – really, I wanted to stick a boot up his rear end and see if maybe that would change his disposition for the better but thought best to do otherwise.
Weeks after going through every piece of everything we had and documenting it with description, price, photo and online price, we found out that our adjuster would no longer be working with us and had not submitted anything…Thanks so much, jerk! Now I really wish I had stuck that boot where it didn’t belong!
Though we had contractors to do most of the work, it really felt like we did everything ourselves, from clearing the place out to taking down the old fireplace and door jams to putting new light fixtures and switch plates in. I’m pretty sure my dear husband and I almost got divorced during the process of picking out new flooring and paint colors but, no, we’re still married. The total clean up must’ve been about 5 ½ months because we are just starting to move back in. I’ll throw in some pictures to horrify you all later. And the house we stayed while this all happened? Well, that’s a whole other story!
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