730 Days

Welcome back! I’ve been busy the past two months, but first I’d like to say WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE?!? I moved back to the US from Mexico 730 days ago (more commonly known as two years) and wow how things have changed. I’ve gone from a job I hated to a job I absolutely love, from living in my parents’ basement to my own place, and my design business is really taking off. Best of all, I’m planning to buy a house later this spring!

I have a post at An Army of Ermas today called Back in the Nest that discusses sex, nudity, and reverting to a teenager while living with your parents as an adult.

As you’ve probably heard, this winter has been anything but a typical Michigan winter. We’ve only had snow a couple times (although the news alerts tell me “the biggest storm of the season” is on its way) but Owen took full advantage.
Owen flying

Going on Hiatus

I’ve thought about this for a while, and I’ve decided to step back from blogging for the time being. The things in my life right now don’t make for interesting posts—you could say I left my fodder south of the border—so I’m taking a time out.

As a whole, I’ve noticed people seem to be blogging less these days, but it’s the fact that I haven’t been able to reciprocate that makes this seem futile. I can’t expect people to keep up with my ramblings when I can’t keep up with theirs, you know?

So… I’ll still post when there’s something to write about, and even though it’s been drilled into my head that not keeping a schedule is the quickest way to lose readers, I’d rather post something because I WANT to, not because I HAVE to.

With that, have a happy new year, and best wishes for 2012!

Breathe

On my November trip to DC, I did something I’d considered for many years: I got a tattoo. Many of you have already seen photos, but few have heard the explanation…

I needed the reminder...

Even Hockey Needs an Editor

This past Saturday my grandmother and I helped my mom celebrate her birthday at the Red Wings game in downtown Detroit. This is the inaugural year for the Winnipeg Jets, formerly the Atlanta Thrashers. The original Winnipeg Jets moved Phoenix and became the Coyotes in 1996, but the new Jets team has been welcomed with open arms by everyone except Detroit, who beat them 7-1. (This has nothing to do with my point, I just think it’s interesting.)

Woopysee daisy

Photo courtesy of detnews.com

With eight goals scored it would be an understatement to say it was an action-packed game, but what got our attention even more than the goals was how slippery the ice seemed to be. I’m sure you’re thinking, Duh, it’s ice. Of course it’s slippery, but no one seemed to tell the players. They were falling all over each other—tripping over teammates, slipping in the middle of the ice when no one else was near, and my favorite, toppling headfirst onto the ice while trying to start a shift. Falling is a part of hockey, but it was borderline absurd how often the players bit it.

The next morning I watched the game highlights on the news, eager to see the clumsiness repeated, but all they showed were the goals. Not a single stumble made the cut. At first I was disappointed, but that’s when it struck me that sometimes the parts that make you laugh the most don’t progress the story. They’re just bits of fluff that—while hilarious—have no place in the final draft.

A good reminder for me as I head into my own edits.

Christmas in Hooville

Last night I did something I haven’t done in five years: I put up a Christmas tree.

The first year I was married I decked out the apartment with lights, decorations, and endless Christmas music, but once I moved to Mexico it just never felt like the holiday. I’m a four-seasons kind of girl and have a hard time celebrating when I’m in a tank top and shorts and sweating enough to water the feral cats.

Last year—my first Christmas back in the US—I lived with my parents who, for reasons I don’t recall, didn’t put up a tree. So, this is a big year!

Many of my ornaments were gifts from my grandmother. She gave me my very first ornament when I was nine months old and has continued the tradition ever since. (Needless to say, when I moved out on my own after college my parents’ tree was suddenly VERY empty.)

Here are a few of my favorites:

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