Him: What do you think should go there?
Me: I don't know, something completely random.
Him: Like what?
Me: Well, like C3PO.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
I was too busy the night of the party to take any pictures, so hopefully you can get a small taste of how our little home here in Perfect Town is coming together for the Christmas season. I feel fortunate that things seem to be working themselves out, and the combining of two lives is going quite well most days.
The view from the living room into the dining room. The table is the one that Scott has been busy making for the past month, and it turned out beautifully. We found the wood in a pile outside at the ReStore in Seattle, and the legs were taken from an end table we found on Craigslist.
The Seahawks tree, which I've already confirmed will be our theme for next year also...
The wreath on the door of the art room. I got the idea last year from Tif's blog, and lucky for us she's been good enough to re-post the instructions again this year, so I don't have to hunt for the post. Yeay for Tif!
Even a wall of broken instruments needs a guardian Santa Elf to look over them...
Because if your dollhouse is on fire and you have to call in Engine No. 7, it helps if there is a Christmas tree in the back...
Standing next to the tree is a helpful squirrel with a nice little bauble for decorating...
And in this corner... the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree and a helpful monkey with another ornament, hoping for some sparkle. The Santa in the frame is a Christmas card from my mom a few years ago, and she painted it herself!
Ignore the treadmill, which was too big to move. Is that the COOLEST gigantic John Belushi portrait painted the night before a Christmas party that you've EVER SEEN?! Scottie Doo is magic. Those of you who have followed my blog for awhile may remember that I started this as a 'craft' blog, because I actually used to have time to make things. So in the spirit of reminding myself that I am actually a knitter most years at this time (I'm a knitter... I KNIT), I included this lovely little garland at the dining room window. Nope, I didn't knit any of the stuff on the garland(although last year I did knit some sweater ornaments from this pattern), the ornaments you see here were all bought from one of my favorite stores, World Market.
Doesn't everyone decorate their bathroom? And yes, I want to remark that I got a great compliment on my choice of shower curtain for the main bathroom, which you can see here reflected in the bathroom mirror. And don't forget to notice the pine scented hand soap. Scottie has voted that we keep the colored lights up year-round.
My Christmas fish ornament, naturally.
And finally... even the great cinematic serial killers of our time like to get jolly around the holidays.
Monday, December 1, 2008
And so it's back to the grind of normal life, spent unpacking boxes (yes STILL), decorating for the December 12th Christmas party, and trying not to think about this being the first Christmas I'll be spending without my beloved kiddos, who will be flying off to The Alaska to visit their Dad. Ugh. Double ugh. Triple, quadruple, pentuple ugh.
And that's all I have to say about that. The goal is to get the studio unpacked and put together by then, so Scottie Doo and Tashie can paint and sew her blues away. Oh me oh my.
Friday, November 28, 2008
This morning I woke up later than I should have with a day of work at the office stretching out ahead of me, but I still had a hard time dragging myself out of bed. As the minutes ticked by, I laid next to the Best Guy in the World, having another one of those conversations I love. With all the moving and the stress, we haven't had one in awhile. And my apologies to Scottie Doo for blogging our secret and private conversations again, but this one was way too good to pass up...
Him: My throat hurts this morning, and I'm not sure if it's still
from all the yelling at the [Five Finger Death Punch] concert the other night,
or if I'm getting sick.
Me: I bet it's the yelling.
Him: Well... I'm no doctor...
Me: Oh! Well I played one on TV!
Him: Oh really? I was not aware of that. Please tell me
Me: Oh yes. Well it was a show called Operation. We were
a team of surgeons who demonstrated our skills and a little bit of magic, by
operating on people (mostly clowns) and taking out their organs, without
touching the sides.
Him: Sides? What sides?
Me: Welllll... Few people know this, but clowns' organs are each
located in individual compartments with sides that cannot be touched. I
myself was known for my skills at removing these specialized organs, such as the
Breadbasket, from the compartments without touching the sides.
Him: It sounds like you are very talented.
Me: Oh definitely. They used to call me "Steady Hands McGee" on
the set, specifically due to my ability to remove the extremely difficult clown
organs, like such as the Wishbone.
Him: They called you McGee, even though that's not your last
Me: Well, my last name hasn't always been my last name,
remember. And McGee is the last name they give everyone who is known for
something, like "Tits McGee", only I was never called that. I was called
'Steady Hands McGee'.
Him: That's very interesting.
Me: Yes, and did I also tell you I won an Emmy for my role?
Him: Why no, you failed to mention that.
Me: Well I did. I just haven't unpacked it yet from all these
Him: Do you think I could watch it?
Me: What's that, Operation, or the awards show when I won my
Him: Well both really, but seeing you win an Emmy would be very
Me: Yes, but unfortunately the only known recording is on Beta.
I really never knew that whole Beta/VHS thing would turn out the way it
did. Who knew?!
Him: Luckily I know someone who still has a Beta machine!
Me: Maybe we can watch it later...
Him: Well did I ever tell you about my Oscars?
Me: No, I don't believe you ever did. You have more than
Him: Oh yes, of course. I have two.
Me: Are they from different movies, or the same movie? Or was
it different movies, only with the same character. Like a series or
Him: Well, it was different movies. I don't really believe in
Me: Do you believe in doing prequels? Because that's a hard
thing for me to wrap my head around. It's like they make a movie, and then
they make another movie with the same characters and call it a prequel, which
means it was supposed to have come BEFORE the other movie. Are we supposed
to pretend we haven't already seen the other movie? If we haven't already seen the other movie, should we watch the prequel first?
Is time travel involved?
Him: I completely understand your dilemma, and no, I do not do
Me: Well please, tell me about your movie and subsequent
Oscars. I'm riveted.
Him: Well oddly enough, the movie was about time travel! I won
the Best Supporting Actor.
Me: Oh, so you were the supporting actor? Who was the main
actor, and did THEY win an Oscar?
Him: Well, it was Woody Harrelson. We were police officers,
Me: Oh. Woody Harrelson. Well, did he win an Oscar?
Him: No, he didn't.
Me: Oh! That means that for the year that you won the Best
Supporting Actor, in all the movies in the whole world that year, YOU were the
very best. AND since you won an Oscar for your portrayal and Woody
Harrelson didn't, that means YOU are a better actor than Woody Harrelson.
How did that make Woody feel?
Him: Well actually, I don't think that's the way it works. Just
because I won for Best Supporting Actor, that doesn't mean that Woody...
Me: Sucks? Oh yes, you were WAY better than Woody.
Him: Now wait just a second here, I happen to think that
Me: I bet you BLEW HIM AWAY! You were voted the BEST, and
Him: Woody happens to be a very good friend of mine. We're very
Me: But Woody has a drug problem.
Him: Well we're not THAT close. And I do not do drugs myself,
but don't feel I can...
Me: But if you're friends with a druggie, than you can seem to
condone their behavior.
Him: I wouldn't go that far. Woody's just a nice guy.
Me: I'd be nice too if I was on drugs all the time. It's easy
Him: You're crazy.
And THAT was my morning. And no, I've never played a
doctor on TV, and Scott doesn't know Woody Harrelson. Scott probably DOES really think I'm crazy though.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I might have explained long ago how terribly fragile I can be at times, but I'm pretty sure I didn't, Dear Reader(s), so as not to scare you away. And now I find myself trying to make a go of things in this relationship with the Best Guy in the World, and not really knowing how to do it very well. If this one doesn't work out, I know it will be all on me.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Once upon a time, my mother dated a man who lived with his grandmother (my mother has, at times, also been a Sucker for Strays). Grandma Storbakken repaired broken violins, and she had HUNDREDS of them, mostly stacked in their cases in her bathtub. My mom's relationship with Grandma Storbakken lasted longer than her relationship with the grandson, and eventually we ended up with about ten broken violins. My sister and I each picked out our favorites, and I proudly displayed mine in my room until the time when I moved off to Alaska. She's pared down the collection over the years, but the last remaining holdouts have now joined Scottie Doo's trombone and violin for our wall.
And this is how we begin the combining of two lives that have been very separate until now. One little bit at a time.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
(This post was started November 1st, but not published until November 4th)
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
- Discover mysterious black skid marks coating the interior of the dryer. Trace the origin back to the offending wad of gum, which will be lodged on the undersides of one of the fin-things in the drum of the dryer. Curse twice under your breath.
- Scream at the nearest child. Remind them that they are not yet allowed to chew gum for reasons JUST LIKE THIS.
- Try to scrape cold gum out from inside dryer. Recognize that the gum has fused with the metal, and has now become one with the dryer.
- Recognize that the gum has only fused with the metal while the dryer is cold. Once the dryer is warm and drying a load of, say, black work clothes, the gum will fuse with the work clothes.
- Turn dryer on to let it heat up the gum. Curse three more times under your breath and find yourself muttering things your mother used to say, such as, "All day I work my fingers to the bone, and this is the thanks I get?". Since no one is around to hear you say this, it's okay to laugh at yourself because you KNOW you don't really work your fingers to the bone. You're a credit union branch manager, not a coal miner.
- Open the dryer and scrub the gum off with the plastic cup that you use to measure the laundry detergent.
- Realize that the entire reason you need to do a load of laundry right now is that your nine year old daughter's only pair of tennis shoes are coated with dog poop. Decide that the dog poop-covered tennis shoes should do an excellent job of removing the rest of the gum from inside the dryer.
Friday, September 26, 2008
The kiddos are having a rough go of things, owing to the fact that they were born on September 6th five months early. I didn't get any pictures until yesterday, but the report is that little Lexie is having the tougher time of the two.
We're sending all the loving, healing thoughts we have their way, and I would be grateful to everyone else if they could do the same!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Me: I wish I could tell you in some new way exactly how much you mean to me. I'm not sure the ways I've been saying it say it right. Maybe.... I think if I found out tomorrow that you were allergic to Raisin Nut Bran, and you couldn't be in the same room with Raisin Nut Bran...Sometimes the magic is about explaining things in ways they've never been explained before...
Him: Or be with anyone who had eaten Raisin Nut Bran...
Me: Right, or be with anyone who had eaten Raisin Nut Bran, then I would give up eating Raisin Nut Bran forever, and I would do ALL the grocery shopping (which I hate) so you wouldn't have to be in the same building as the Raisin Nut Bran...
Him: What if I just couldn't be in the cereal aisle, or the aisles on either side of the cereal aisle?
Me: I'm not taking any chances! And if you needed to buy gas at a convenience store and the pay-at-the-pump option was not available, I would go inside that convenience store and check the shelf myself to make sure they did not stock Raisin Nut Bran in the small selection of cereals that they do have.
Him: Would you ask the clerk to make sure their was no Raisin Nut Bran in the back, or anywhere else on the premises?
Me: Yes. I would even double check anything the clerk told me, just to make sure he could be trusted. THAT'S how much I love you.
Him: Awwww... that's a lot.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Seriously. The directions are here.
Once upon a time I would have done this without having to find it done by someone else first. I am, after all, the girl who had a collection of Barbie dolls SPECIFICALLY so I could make my own Barbie doll chandelier - picture if you will about 8 Barbies laying on their backs with their legs in the air, balancing their own heads (or the head of a friend, who knows?) on their dainty little mutant-feet. That chandelier never materialized except in my head, but it would have ROCKED. I was the cool girl at one time in my life. The girl who made her own clothes like the infamous Superman dress and the Sonics skirt; the girl who had a purple television covered with cowboys and indians and crocodiles and insects. Where did that girl go?!
Oh. I remember. That girl met a guy who didn't like weird girls, and they got married. Ugh. The girl threw away all her cool shoes, and sold all of her cool music, and gave away all of her cool clothes. That girl had to go into hiding. All she was able to save was one small box of Nine Inch Nails cds, and the memory of how to make cool things.
And so she's figuring out what that will all mean now, because she can be the cool girl that she really is again. She's "finding herself" all over again at 34...
Sunday, September 21, 2008
The weather has turned a nice blustery overcast sort of raininess that’s exactly perfect for this time of year, unless you happen to need to be outside with a hammer and some nails as Scotty-Do does this weekend. I just want to be inside with some knitting or a book and a fire in the fireplace, but I’m afraid the war with the fleas has escalated, and at this point they seem to be winning. I wish I could tell if I’ve won any of the many battles Scotty-Do and I are waging, because at this point I’m ready to abandon ship and let the fleas take over this place as I move somewhere else entirely. All I want is to know we’ve done at least a little bit of damage – some sort of flea body count or something. The fleas are mum on the whole subject, but the little buggers are popping up more frequently now than in the past, so I fear soon they may be ready to team together to physically throw us out on our ears. This has led to some rather interesting conversations between me and Scott, as we hypothesize the proper way to kill fleas with a miniature machine gun or tiny sword. I can’t understand exactly why this is even happening, as the cats we own don’t even go outside!
The ideas are starting to gather for what to make for Christmas this year, and I can feel the itch that means it’s time to get moving. That’s a good thing. And now for some blurry cell phone pictures taken a week ago on Saturday while Boo was at a skating party.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
We drove our four hours to Eastern Washington , which appeared to be an entirely different country from the one we were supposed to be in. The part of Washington I’ve grown up in, I’ve come to know and love really, is GREEN. This Eastern Washington place is comprised of miles and miles of brown, with the occasional yellow thrown in to break up the monotony. We passed some sort of dust-devil-tornado things. We passed wheat. We passed rocks. The music was good, but most of the way I stared at Scott. As great as he is when I look at him from the front, I found that I appreciate him just as much when staring at him from the side. He’s pretty awesome.
People who have recently been on crutches should not try cliff diving from any point that requires a running start. That sort of thing can end disastrously if you’re not a ninja cat like me. I jumped off this cliff and showed everyone my ninja skillz by turning my fall into a sort of running-down-the-cliff move. I was pretty impressed with myself, but I think everyone else thought I was an idiot. I don’t think we have any photographic evidence of my brush with death.
We didn’t get home until about midnight Sunday night, and so far the week has been mostly about assimilating ourselves back into normal society. Scott has turned my garage into some sort of organized haven completely void of any boxes of ex-boyfriend stuff, cleaned my toilets and refrigerator, joined me in the war against the fleas, and somehow negotiated a peace between the canine and feline factions of the house. He’s pretty humble and low key about it, but I’m convinced Scott is magical.