Quote of the Week:

“Those things are so horrible. I’m gonna get you one.”

Steve, referring to “Edible Arrangements” – quite clearly the worst gift you can possibly give.

Weekend, briefly

We enjoyed a some spring-like weather in Indiana this week, just as all the kiddies left town for spring break. When the sun is out, and the town is empty, I’m a pretty happy girl. Otherwise, our weekend looked a lot like this:

We watched nearly every tournament game on television from Thursday to Sunday. One of the perks of my job is getting to watch the games at work, while still not being allowed to participate in any bracket pools. Conundrum?

Banner suffered a sprained foot (ankle?) this weekend in a fit of joy while greeting guests. Her pathetic limp earned her the royal treatment all day Sunday, and her pillow became prime game-watching space. She’s planning on a full recovery for her Monday evening walk.

From here

I was the big winner of the weekend, thanks to my wonderful husband who battled a hangover (happy bachelor party Mikey!) to negotiate and buy our first car. Not the stressful process we’d been prepared for, but rather a pleasant experience that resulted in us getting a killer deal. We attempted to get emotional about trading in the Shit-mobile, but were totally unable to summon any tears. Steve is somewhat less excited about inheriting my Honda, but it’s perfect for his commute and I suppose he’ll just keep repeating “happy wife, happy life” every time I drive away in our shiny new SUV. I’m pretty damn lucky.

In Soviet Russia, Cars Drive You!

I’m an excellent shopper. I have a special skill for walking into a huge SALE (or better yet, the outlet malls) and finding the one item which is NOT on sale. Like a moth to the flame – if it’s the most expensive item available, I will immediately profess my undying love for it. Sometimes, when my husband’s horrible budgets are proving too restrictive, I’ll go online, fill my virtual shopping cart and quickly close out the window before purchasing anything. It’s totally sick. I realize this.

So with these sweet skills in mind, poor Steve is understandably concerned as we start the process of searching for and buying our first car. We’re both currently driving our college cars and enjoying the fact that we’re car-payment free, but Steve unfortunately has been cursed with “The Shit-mobile” for a vehicle. The Shit-mobile may look like any normal car, but was purchased without one major feature – waterproofing. The damn thing leaks from every possible opening, and the passenger is likely sitting with their feet in an inch of water even in the heat of August. It has some other issues, but essentially: it’s time for a new vehicle.

Needless to say, our need for a new car has trumped Steve’s fear of taking me anywhere near a car lot. This is not to say he’s actually willing to shop with me. For my first few test drives earlier this week, Suze claimed he had a “work dinner” and forced my parents to accompany me in my search. In-law abuse?

At this rate, I’m sure to find and select my dream vehicle (completely disregarding our budget) and come home  to find an old Subaru Outback in our garage, purchased by Steve in a sly move to pre-empt what he is sure will be another shopping disaster. I think we’re off to a fairly good start.

Weekend, briefly

Friday morning brought the most anticipated event of the long winter – our federal tax refund. We managed a very excessive weekend, which in this household featured a trip to the outlet mall, one dinner out and breakfast at Starbucks. We’re basically living like the Real Housewives of New York City over here. 

When we weren’t living the high life, we spent the rest of the day wasting away on the couch watching basketball. ‘Tis the season I suppose. Of course, when I say “we” I really mean Susan, except for the actually important games, in which I really do mean we. On that note, you really have no idea how much I hate Kentucky. The Wildcats, the whole damned state. 

Different dinner, same attitude.

 

 

Things to Ignore:

Personal checks.

I had to call plumbers out to the house this morning, because our sink really LOVES water and would prefer to hold it rather than drain that precious life source into the sewer system. Needless to say, it was a great excuse not to wash dishes all weekend.

Two young, skinny guys came over to fix the problem. They wore belts. Breaking all stereotypes. They then proceeded to double our monthly water usage in a single 20-minute period by running the faucet continually. When it was over, they handed me a bill and stood there staring while I attempted to produce a check for payment. It took five very long minutes for them to determine that I was confused, clueless and stuck in 1990. The moral of this stupid story? Everyone takes Visa now. Even plumbers.

Erg.

You know those weeks when everything and nothing is happening all at once? That’s this week for me. I went to bed last night a 8:30 p.m. I’m not sure whether it was out of sheer exhaustion or sheer boredom.

In other words, I’m still here. Just being lame.