Pageant mom?

Well I think I may have reached an all time low in my life…I have officially become a pageant mom pimping out the good looks of my “child” for my own personal gain. And by child, I mean pup. And by pageant, I mean the Cutest Dog Competition. But I couldn’t help myself when I saw the amount of money the winners walk away with. So I did what every sensible parent of an obnoxiously cute puppy would do…uploaded a pic (one from my blackberry that actually wasn't blurry) of Rocco immediately and started dreaming of what I would do with the winnings. Don’t worry, I talked everything over with Rocco and he agreed it was in the best interest of our family to start his doggie modeling career now. You know, with the lack of jobs and all, he is realizing that he should start pulling his weight around here.

So if you feel inclined to vote (it only takes a second), here is the link: http://www.cutestdogcompetition.com/vote.cfm?h=4DBE46F338A85729934A5B66D2725522.

Boston…home of Lobster Dogs, Mike’s Pastry, and the Burns girls!

Two weeks ago Brenda and I embarked on a 24-hour, multi-city excursion to Boston. No we weren’t traveling by covered wagon or Greyhound bus, just another great travel experience brought to us by our great friends at American Airlines (I’ll get to that in a sec). Why Boston? Well aside from the great history (The Freedom Trail is Brenda’s fave I’ve heard), great baseball (cringing my teeth as I type this…not really a Sox fan), and heavenly pastries (to-die-for tiramisu from Mike’s), it just so happens to be home to the Burns girls! And one in particular celebrating her 25th birthday so what better way to celebrate than with a surprise at Fenway Park!

I’d love to say that the trip started off great but that would be lying through my teeth to say the least. Here is the bullet point recap (because I have a little thing for bullet points):
· Our flight was delayed due to weather, or so the evil woman at the ticket counter kept telling us as we watched plane after plane take off. I’m willing to bet that her middle name might be ‘the devil.’
· As we waited for said weather delayed plane, undercover police officers gathered around us and reenacted a scene from Cops on one unsuspecting passenger.
· Missed our connection in Chicago so the airline put us up for the night but the hotel was out of rooms. Well there was one room that may or may not have someone in it and there was also a miniature bed that folded out of the wall in someone’s suite we could use. Awesome.

Fast forward a few hours…we made it to Fenway (after convincing a hotel in Boston to hold our bags while at the game).

We discovered that Fenway is home to a wildly popular game day treat, the Lobster Dog. Lobster = good, hot dogs = good, Lobster + hot dog = sick. I guess you have to be a Sox fan to understand? Fast forward again to the fifth inning when Britt and her bro decided to join us!

We spent the rest of the trip catching up on much needed girl time. We shopped, sipped margaritas, binged on diet coke and peanut mnms, spent a day on the beach...and sung many Disney songs with Emma in the car. Emma might take the cake for the cutest 2 and half year old I have ever met. She is so beautiful and smart... just like her mama!

Life happened again...

This past weekend was my friend Kelly’s bachelorette party. These kind of events always make me a little nervous as I’m not the type to prance around town with accessories made of man parts…I’ll take a classy strand of pearls over a pee-pee necklace thankyouverymuch. And no, I will not suck anything off of a shirt for a buck. But thank GOD my friends are on the same page and this was one classy shindig. We did, however, leave Kel with a present she can cherish forever. With sharpies in hand we all scripted our best “advice for the bachelorette” on a shirt the both of them could fit into. I’ll spare you the details (and pictures) and simply say that Nathan and Kelly have some great words to live by and even wear if they ever felt the urge.

I reminisced today to when I was in her shoes (great ones, of course)…all of the wonderful, gracious, loving advice that friends and family shared with me as I prepared to marry my best friend. Always kiss goodnight. Never go to bed angry. Laugh together often. However I don’t think anyone could have prepared us for what life has handed us these past few months (see the little sentence in the first blog post and repeat). And I’m so thankful for that. I don’t think life really comes with an instruction book - it’s what we figure out together that has been the most precious of all things. The little bumps we’ve hit along the road this year have brought us closer together and forced us to rely on what brought us together in the first place. Love. And knowing that as long as we focus on how truly blessed we really are, we’ll be ok. We’ll figure it out. The bills will get paid and we will have food on the table… but most importantly, we will have a whole heck of a lot of love in our hearts.

And the award goes to...

Well the award for biggest blog fail goes to….Me. It’s been an eternity since my last post and although I think about blogging about life happening on a regular basis, I just haven’t. I’m not one for excuses but ever since my laptop crashed and burned it has been a chore to get online. So rather than rush out to the local Apple store (come on, unemployment doesn’t pay that good), I had to dust off the prehistoric laptop I got when I graduated high school (the one that barely made it through college because Dells are just that awesome) to continue the job search, answer emails, and periodically check facebook. But alas, here I am with one hell of an overdue blog post about life happening.

Where do I even begin? This summer has been nothing short of an adventure filled with great friends, great golf shots, awesome pool days, and yes, even some interviews. Oh yeah, and one big hole in the side of my house. Yes, you read that correctly. I even got a chuckle out of the insurance lady as she asked me to tell her again what really happened. See exhibit A:



Let me tell you there is nothing like coming home from running a few errands to a note on your door regarding the car that drove through the side of your house. I’m thankful that some people in this world are still decent human beings and leave notes in situations like this. Husband immediately called the number scribbled on the note and within 5 minutes, the son-in-law of the fossil that couldn’t find the break pedal was at our front door. We invited him in and he calmly strolled through our house and on into the garage. Obviously he had to take the long way, well, because the garage door didn’t exactly work properly.

As he was assessing the damage, he said to me and husband so matter-of-factly, “Well last time she did this, I just patched up the wall and painted.” Pause...LAST TIME?! EXCUSE ME, she has driven through this wall previously?!? Oh yes, the previous owners also had the pleasure of coming home to this mess. I’m sorry, but maybe she shouldn’t be driving any more if crashing through walls is becoming her signature move. I understand forgetting to signal every now and then, but when driving thru your neighbor’s walls gets to be a habit, its time to surrender your keys. Just sayin’. Oh and did I mention my car was trapped in the garage during this fiasco? And only by the hand of God himself was my car untouched (he must have known that would have thrown us over the edge). But somehow that car needed to get out pronto for an interview (see, I wasn’t lying). And it did, after numerous contractors meticulously took apart the garage door piece by piece. What. A. Mess. They asked if I could go a few weeks without a garage door and I guess it was the look on my face that provided them with the answer they weren’t exactly looking for. So they worked tirelessly in the hot Colorado sun trying to piece back together what once was my garage door.

So after several insurance estimates, endless phone calls to the insurance company, and not one single apology from the one responsible for the damage, we still have one giant hole in our house. And as we head out to run errands today I hope and pray that we return to our house untouched and not a single note on the front door.

Dear NYC...

I’m writing this post from the comfort (and quietness) of my patio in my lovely backyard (now complete with flowers). I have a new-found appreciation for days like today after my latest adventure in your hood. Last week I took a break from my not-so busy schedule and headed out of town to spend a few days with you.

For as long as I can remember I’ve always loved visiting your city. In high school I saved my cash for rent and couldn’t wait to escape the white-picket-fence-stepford-wife-like suburbs of Colorado and head out to the city that never sleeps. Every time I visit, there is a part of me that can’t wait to apartment shop and start a new chapter of life with you. But just a little part. For now I will just keep visiting and appreciating you from afar. So thank you NYC for being you and always teaching me new things every time I visit…

· Times Square makes my head hurt. I do not enjoy it.
· Maid in Manhattan is apparently based on a true story and has inspired maids everywhere to “borrow” guests’ belongings. Reported missing LBD Tuesday, returned to the closet by Thursday.
· There is no such thing as an early dinner.
· $5 for a small soy latte is a steal.
· It’s all about survival of the fittest (this applies to cabs, jobs, clothes, tables with great views, and the dressing room line at H&M).

· Bike messengers do not value human life.
· Same goes for most cab drivers. Especially the one who drove me to the airport.
· Cupcakes will instantly bring you out of the depression you fall into after realizing you can’t afford anything in Intermix these days. Give me a red velvet with vanilla cream icing and I'm in heaven.

· On that note, the shops on Bleecker are not for the faint of heart.
· If you’re not sassy, rude, or grumpy, no need to apply at Zara.
· Hotel concierges should know a thing or two about good restaurants aside from what Google can tell them. I do not want to eat at TGI Friday’s thankyouverymuch.
· And when the concierge recommends a “great lunch spot” simply go around the corner to find something better. No need to pay $25 for a caesar salad at the place his brother works at.
· Eat something before LaGuardia. Even if has to be TGI Friday’s.
· Note to cab drivers: honking does not make the traffic move faster nor does it make red lights turn to green. You can get me from point A to point B without your horn.
· Never, I say never make eye contact in Harlem. Lots of creepers.

(Check out the view from my wannabe office in the Hearst Tower)

FOMO...

The first step is admitting the problem, no? F.O.M.O. I have it. Fear of missing out. Symptoms include never wanting to miss happy hours, lunch dates, weekend trips, episodes of the Real Housewives... you get the point, this list can go on and on. Which is precisely why this little blog of mine has gotten the shaft recently (sorry about that). But as I’ve said before, life has been happening and I’ve been loving every second of it.

Aside from job searching my life away, my week was full of puppy-sitting (which was an instant mood booster), a coffee date in Boulder on one of the most gorgeous days I’ve ever seen, gardens, painting, wine nights, and a visit to Kathy’s for Sarah’s bridal shower. (Side note: I met four of the most amazing ladies while working at BBW in college. Lisa, Sarah (the bride-to-be), Colyn and Kathy are like food for the soul).

(Colyn, Husband, Me, Lisa, Brandon (Lisa's husband), Kathy, and Sarah)

So I have a little extra time on my hands these days and decided that I am going to take full advantage of those things that I’ve always been “too busy” to do. I don’t want to miss out on the fun things that have been on the to-do list for what seems like an eternity. (Yes, husband, the job search remains the numero uno priority, don’t worry). But don’t the flowers in the backyard look great? I discovered the wonders of the garden section at Home Depot this past weekend. And the guest bathroom that we’ve always wanted to re-do? Yep, I started that project. The running shoes are coming out of hibernation and I’m dusting off that yoga mat I’ve never used. Might even get a little crazy and take a spin class at the old gym-bo.

But for now, I need to pack. Early flight to NYC tomorrow (the not-so-ideal city to have FOMO in because there is just too much to see and do). And this time I’ve pinky sweared with my husband that I will not return with a list of places for us to live and a moving company that will help us get there. Plus I don’t think Rocco would enjoy the city as much as I do...

"Say hello to my little friend…"

No worries, there are no M16 assault rifles or grenade launchers here…those really aren’t my thing. To be honest, the movie Scarface isn’t really my thing, either. But nevertheless the infamous line is fitting for today’s post. Meet Rocco…

Rocco is the pup that we stumbled upon one snowy day back in December. The Humane Society was having an “adoption sale” and being the sucker for sales that I am, decided to check it out. If you don’t believe that love at first sight exists, then clearly you have never stepped foot inside a humane society full of adorable little guys looking for a home to spend their lives in. Much like Target, I have no willpower in places like this. Rocco came home with us the very next day. And hasn’t left our side since. He is our extremely spoiled doggie child.

We have experienced our fair share of chewed up picture frames - yes, the fancy metal ones that previously showcased our wedding pictures (for some reason he isn’t into shoes…let’s keep it that way). We have spent small fortunes at Petsmart on toys that didn’t live through the night. He has even shown off his interior decorating skills a time or two..

And yes, I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty sure I’ve cooked Rocco dinner (per vet's orders) more than I’ve cooked for Husband. But I wouldn’t trade Rocco (well maybe a few of the vet visits in March) for the world. Yesterday I even overheard Husband say to him, “Rocco, I hope that whenever kids come into our life, they are half as cool as you are.”