the happy homewrecker

The latest photo from my house-hunting friend, who has some advice for people putting their houses on the market:

"Be sure to use creepy dolls as the focal point of your living room.  It will detract attention from the horrendo hand-me down LazyBoy and clearance-bin ceiling border."

One of the many cool things about the company Gary works for now is that they're kind of proactive when it comes to being healthy.

Ohio weather can be so annoying.

A friend of mine is looking for a house outside of Cincinnati; she and her husband are having an awful time finding anything, and she keeps sending me these photos of weird interior decor. Here's a sample dining room:

Is this the staircase from the Brady Bunch?

A very, very green kitchen:

I don't even know where to start with this one. The velour living room suite? The big, arching metal lamp?

The carpet guys are coming tomorrow sometime between 8 and noon. Which means that either they could be here before we're all dressed, or they could show up during lunch and still be working when Ginger's ready for her nap. I predict that tomorrow will be SO MUCH FUN. Gah.

(Not that I'm not grateful for the new carpeting. I am. I am so much that I will probably lie down and lick its nylon fuzziness once it's installed, but today was nothing but painting and mess and hammering and me saying "NO, Ginger" fifty million times, so I'm not in the best mood right now).

You know it's been a rough day when you find yourself on the couch with a margarita, a can of Pringles, and a bag of chocolate chips.

Also: I really dislike Jorja Fox's hair.

It's crazy here. Spencer has been sick all week and missed both days of preschool; Gary took today off to get the rest of the work done on the upstairs that needed done before the carpet comes tomorrow. It's snowy and I've been indoors for two straight days and I think I'm going a little stir-crazy.

Ellen and I were discussing celebrity crushes that other people might find odd. I'll let her decide if she wants to post hers here, but I'll go ahead and say that Terry O'Quinn of Lost is one of mine. I have a friend from college who was hot for Ah-nold (I really never understood that one!) and also Stephen Tyler. It's so interesting to see whose attractive to different people. Anyone else have crushes that other people don't understand?

Today's going to be a long one. Gary's working extra, plus he's taking the van in for an oil change, so he's not sure what time he'll be home tonight. It's not even 9 a.m. yet and the kids are making me a little nutty. There's a warehouse sale at the Carter's outlet an hour down the road; it started Friday, though, so I'm not sure what would be left by today. Everything is supposed to be $7 or less, but sometimes that's not such a bargain---I can get Carter's pjs for that much at Target, and Ginger's spring/summer tees I got her from The Children's Place were $4. On the other hand, it would get us out of the house and eat up about three hours' worth of time. On the other (other) hand, it's freezing outside, and shopping with both kids is not usually a lot of fun (Ginger detests the stroller). And the men's curling team is playing Canada on television. What to do, what to do . . .

Thank you everyone for your positive thoughts. Good wishes help! So do a few drinks, although, unfortunately, I'm out of margarita mix. Anyone heading north toward the lake, I prefer Jose Cuervo Gold. Thank you.

Chocolate also helps. This morning I woke up to find a box of chocolate-covered strawberries on my laptop keyboard. Which told me two things about Gary: he knows what I like to eat, and he knows where to put things so that I can't possibly miss them. The box contains ten strawberries, and a note on the side says that they should be eaten within two days. I am so up for the challenge.

I am forcing myself to go to sit n knit tonight. I will not back out and hide in my house. I promised to bake and bring a cake (dark chocolate fudge with chocolate ganache) for a friend's birthday, so I have to go. I need to get out.

Other than the strawberries, it doesn't feel like Valentine's Day. I woke up this morning to find that my period had unexpectedly started all over our white sheets. And then the cramps and the backache and the curling up in a ball on the living room floor. Nothing says Happy Valentine's Day like an emergency trip to the store for feminine hygiene products!