This is The End (of 2008)

On my way to work this morning, my CTA card just stopped working. I used it on the bus, and it was fine. Then I went to the train, and it simply didn't register. No "Retouch Card" error, no "Account Balance" error. Nothing. So, while my train roared overhead, I had to go buy a disposable card.

When I finally got on the train, it went to two stops before stalling on the tracks for 20 minutes. Something about signal clearance and whatnot.

But even though I was delayed and even though the last few days have been really, really hectic, I was still in a pretty good mood when i got into work this morning.

Then, a co-worker sent out this link. I think it was meant to be a rah-rah charge to gear up for the New Year. But instead, I kind of feel like jumping off a bridge now. Jeez.

Happy Birthday Chris

A little shout out to my man, who turns 30 today.













Here's to another 30 years of happiness, drinking, dancing and giving booze to small children. Love you.

My pants are too tight...

... probably because I haven't been to the gym since we moved.

That is all.

Week of drink

Today, Chris and I are entering Day 3 of "The Week of Numerous Holiday Parties," also known as "The Week of Neglecting Our Dog While Testing the Limits of Our Livers." Basically, we have a holiday party almost every night this week, and other than a short reprieve next Monday and Tuesday, most of next week as well. The majority of these parties are quite booze-fueled. As a result, I need to restock my desk supply of ibuprofen.

Last night, poor Rosie went about 90 minutes longer than normal before getting to go outside. I was worried she wouldn't make it, but she was asleep when we got home, so I guess she was fine. We made up for the neglect by playing with her out in the snow for about an hour last night. Because of the aforementioned alcohol consumption, Chris and I didn't seem to notice the cold. Plus, Rosie LOVES snow, so there was much bounding, leaping and spinning on her part, which just warms our hearts.

Hmmm, I really need to get a video of Rosie in the snow. Stay tuned...

8 days a week

The hours of my typical day:

10 = working
8 = sleeping
2 = commuting
1 = getting ready for work
1 = preparing, eating dinner
1 = cleaning

That's 23 hours.

I usually spend my 24th hour either watching TV, reading, petting Rosie or all three simultaneously. Instead, I should be doing one or more of the following:

- working out
- more cleaning
- organizing my house/life
- keeping in touch with people
- some sort of craft not related to work

Everyday, I say I'm gonna do one of those things, but instead, I spend my one free hour just chillin'. And then I feel guilty about it.

I think I need a 25th hour. Or maybe I should just sleep less.

For the record

Bare Minerals makes me break out. I know a lot of people who swear by this makeup and say it's the greatest stuff ever. So I got the little starter kit a few months ago, and it made me zitty. I even tried changing out brushes, and not using that rev-er upper stuff they give you. But it's just not happening.

Sorry Bare Minerals. As Christina Crawford once said, "I...Am Not...One Of Your...FANS!"

Love thy neighbor

Since moving in, our neighbors on either side of us have been the definition of the types of neighbors you pray you get when you move into a new neighborhood.

For starters, they're normal. No crazy signs outside. No strange sounds or smells emitting from their homes. No singing, dancing or inflatable holiday decorations.

In addition to being normal, they're incredibly friendly and helpful. When we first bought the house, before we even moved in, we were there one weeknight pulling up staples from the carpeting and doing other work on the floors. And one of our new neighbors ran over in the rain to bring us a bottle of champagne along with two little paper cups (we had no dishes at the house yet) to welcome us to the 'hood.

Then, after we moved in, during some storms a few months ago that caused a lot of flooding in our area, another neighbor came by to check on us and set up a portable sump-pump and hose outside to keep standing water out of our backyard.

So, obviously, we totally hit the neighbor jackpot.

A week ago, to show a bit of our appreciation, we stopped by each neighbor's house to say hi and deliver some Christmas cookies on some cute little holiday dishes I found at Target. Then yesterday, one neighbor returned the dish, but topped with the most amazing chocolate-glazed marbled bunt cake ever. This was about an hour after Chris went outside to shovel the sidewalk, only to find one of the same neighbor's kids outside already doing it for us.

Dude. I can't even begin to describe the warm fuzzies I've got going on right now. I mean, the cake? It was seriously the first thing I thought about when I woke up this morning. Holy cow.

When we were looking for a house, I had my heart set on another neighborhood — one that's less established, but will probably take off in the next 10 years. But Chris really liked this house and this neighborhood, and even though the commute's a little longer and the back of the house isn't level, I agreed, somewhat reluctantly.

Since then, in the old 'hood I wanted to live in, three people have been shot within a block of a house we came very close to buying.

Um, I think this is the part where I admit I was wrong and the husband was right. So, thank you, honey, for convincing me to buy this house and move to the land of champagne, cake and free snow removal.