Monthly Archives: June 2010

No time! There’s never any time!

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Thinking about writing a blog post this week makes me feel a little bit like this:

I haven’t turned to caffeine pills (yet) and there’s no crying or frantic, spastic singing occurring (yet), but on the inside I’m having a meltdown a la Jessie Spano.

No time! There’s never any time!

Ok, I don’t think Jessie actually says that in the clip above (although I can’t be sure – I’m doing a quick lunchtime post at work and forgot my headphones), but I feel pretty confident that everyone I know or care to associate with will recognize that those lines come from the same glorious episode of Saved By the Bell (in which having “no time” basically transforms Slater’s “Mama” into a rabid singing dog with a black scrunchie bow in its hair, the massive proportions of which does nothing to conceal the fact that said hair will be in deep trouble should a brush fire occur in the near vicinity).

Long story short, this is my way of admitting that I have approximately zero minutes of free time to blog or do anyting this week and I’m a bit stressed. You may be wondering why someone so short on time would choose to express this in such a long-winded fashion? I don’t know! This is exactly how I get into these predicaments – I do it to myself! I am the problem!

I need a therapist – maybe we can figure out some way to pin these issues on my dad.

If you see another blog post from me this week, it means I actually got my shit together.

If not…pray for me…

Now entering Phase IV of Post-College Life

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So far, this has been the most relaxing summer I’ve had in a long time. Last weekend I read my book (Commencement by J. Courtney Sullivan – pretty good chick lit summer book), watched some HGTV, tried streaming Netflix through Wii for the first time (and ended up watching a few episodes of the first season of Laguna Beach, as if I needed to prove to myself how pathetic I really am), and actually got to the point where I was a little bit bored.

I was forced to make pina coladas on Sunday night just to spice things up a bit.

It was wonderful.

Then it hit me. The reason why this summer is much less busy than any other summer in recent memory is the staggering lack of weddings and wedding-related events. And that is a result of this:

We have now entered Phase IV of Post-College Life.

Here’s a rundown of the Phases of Post-College Life, in case you’re not familiar with them (which is likely since I pretty much just made them up in my head about 2 seconds ago):

Phase I: You recently graduated from college and have begun the job search. This basically means that you and your friends are all living with your parents, going out every night, and checking out online job postings during the day whenever Mom is around so she won’t feel like you’re taking the free food and laundry service for granted. This phase can last anywhere from a couple of months to a couple of years. (If you remain in this phase longer than two years, you are dropped from the Phases of Life for Normal People and enter the downward spiral to Loserville. Sadly, only a decently-paying job can save you now.)

Phase I

Phase II: You found a job! Or got into grad school! You move out of your parents’ house…eventually. (There is no shame in taking advantage of the free room and board until the 2 years before the downward spiral to Loserville expire.) And now you and your friends are busy working, going to happy hour, and hitting up the singles scene on the weekends.

Phase II

Phase III: Ahh, love. People are coupling off left and right. There are engagements, marriages, and commitments to same-sex partners. And you spend the months of April – October attending weddings, showers, and bachelorette parties like it’s your job. Much of your salary goes toward gifts, bridesmaid dresses and flights. But the open bars and regular opportunities to get all of your friends together are totally worth it. This is the phase I thought I was in…until recently.

Phase III

Phase IV: Here’s where I am. The deluge of weddings/commitments/”we’re moving in together” parties have slowed to a mere trickle. A majority of your friends have adopted the “we-speak” and are officially part of a couple. Then come the pregnancies, baby showers and actual babies. And here’s the cruel reality of life: the one BAD thing from the previous phase follows you into this phase – shower games. Except now instead of making wedding dresses out of toilet paper, you’re sniffing little turds of melted chocolate candy bars in diapers. So yes, it gets worse.

Phase IV

After that point, you enter the Phases of Family Life. This bores me, so I will not be discussing it here.

Here’s proof that I have officially entered Phase IV of Post-College Life:

2006: 7 weddings; 0 friends with babies

2007: 9 weddings (including my own!); 0 friends with babies

2008: 7 weddings; 2 friends with babies

2009: 8 weddings; 3 friends with babies

2010: 4 weddings; 6 friends with babies (and 3 on the way)

The tide is rapidly turning in favor of the babies!

(Coming up with that count is 20 minutes of my life that I will never get back – but it’s kind of interesting, no?)

I’ll definitely miss the parties, free booze and chance to see all of our friends together on a regular basis. But if it means more relaxing and reading my book on the front porch with pina colada in hand…then welcome, Phase IV! I think I’ll be kicking back and enjoying this phase (and other people’s babies) for awhile.

Chateau Irwin…in my dreams

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Man, I am so over renting. Our shower rod has turned into a big stick of rust, only half of our windows open, the lady above us wears bricks for shoes, I’m forced to squish all my clothes into HALF of a closet, and there’s not much I can do about any of it.

We would have bought our own place by now, but due to life circumstances (not bad ones – don’t worry!), that hasn’t been the best option for us.

The bad news: it might possibly be another couple of years before we actually buy a place.

The good news: we’ll have one heck of a down payment saved up by then!

So for now, I’m stuck daydreaming about decorating and homeownership and living vicariously through the people on HGTV.

As if I felt the need to prove to you how much of my free time is spent thinking about our future dwelling, I’ve put together a nice little dream house in my mind inspired by photos from fun blogs and websites like Apartmenttherapy, Coco & Kelly, Destined to Design, and Dress Design Décor.

I know, I need a hobby. Another hobby.

Anyway, since I can’t invite all of you over to my current home (yes, I have enough readers that trying to fit them into our five-room apartment would most definitely be a fire hazard – yay me!), I’d like to invite you to my future dream home.

Welcome to Chateau Irwin. Come on in and stay awhile…

(and please take off your shoes unless you want to wear those dorky model home booties)

For some reason, I’ve always imagined myself living in an urban townhouse. I don’t know how practical that will be for family life and having kids (nor do I care right now!), but I expect I will find out.

Ahh…the living room…

It is in this bright and airy space that you will find me eating ice cream, watching reality TV (yes, there’s a TV in there somewhere…maybe hidden behind that painting), taking naps, and practicing general slothfulness. And loving those striped shades.

Turn the corner and we have…

The dining room. I want to marry those floor-to-ceiling windows and have like ten thousand of their babies.

Moving on…

My office!

So fun and cheery! Like me! Sometimes.

Here’s where I get my creative juices flowing and slave for hours over this damn blog because I know my mom readers would be sorely disappointed if I ever stopped writing new posts.

And now…

The kitchen. Where we eat pizza and takeout while I gaze fondly at all of the pretty cookware I bought and have no idea how to use, but boy does it look great in those glass cabinets.

Don’t look now, but we’re about to enter my favorite part of the house…

The deck! I pretty much live out here as long as the weather and the endurance of my citronella candles cooperate.

And when I want to relax inside and wash off the layers of bug spray (I swear, I must be a veritable mosquito buffet, complete with unlimited bloody marys…get it??), I hit up this awesome bathtub.

Yes, I live in an urban townhouse with that view, ok? This is MY dream.

Here’s the rest of the bathroom, where I like to daintily powder my nose.

Will loves the chandeliers.

And now, where all the magic happens…

Sorry, I had to throw that Cribs reference in there. Pretty kick-ass boudoir, no?

Welp, that’s the end of the tour! I hope you enjoyed your stay. Now get out. I’m going to go take a bath. Jealous?

At least I don’t have him as my Facebook profile picture

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No, Will and I don’t have any biological human children, but we are the proud owners of one lil’ mister Gatsby Irwin, also known as our psuedo-child or The Cutest Dog in the World.

I may be wearing the rose-colored glasses of a proud “parent,” but Gatsby is 5 pounds of pure fun and entertainment. And here’s proof:

Most normal dogs I know devour their food in a matter of seconds without even bothering to chew half of it, but Gatsby likes to make it interesting. He eats each piece of dry dog food individually, after throwing it up in the air and stalking it as if our kitchen is the vast wild outdoors and the piece of food is an unfortunate field mouse. Check it out.

Here he is striking his “pet me” pose – butt up in the air and head on the floor as if he is about to perform a somersault.

And if that’s not enough cuteness for you, as the finale to The Gatsby Show, I present to you the great one himself walking on his hind legs.

I know, I could charge admission for this stuff, right?

Another conversation with my future baby

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If you’ve been reading my blog from its inception, first of all, thanks! Second of all, you might remember the short conversation I conjured in my mind with my future baby in my very first post.

Well that brief “interaction” didn’t go so well, so I thought I’d give Future Baby (who will henceforth be referred to as FB) another chance.

If I was to have a preconceptual encounter with the little one today (I know this is impossible, but just go with it), this is how I imagine it would go (and yes, he/she already has the verbal capabilities of an adult with a college education. I have high expectations):

ME: Hey, FB.

FB: Waaaaazzzzz uuuup??

Ok, stop! Already, my future baby is either drunk or high and has the gruff, gravelly voice of a 40-year-old chain smoker. Why am I picturing Baby Herman from Roger Rabbit??

I need to regroup and re-imagine this scenario. Give me a second. Ok, let’s try this again.

ME: Hi cute little baby with big innocent eyes, round chubby cheeks and an adorable smile! (Imagery is a lot easier if you just spell it out for yourself.)

FB: Hi Future Mom! I can’t wait to meet you and be molded into the kind, successful, attractive person you want me to be!

ME: Aww, thanks FB! I love that you’re already trying to suck up to me before you’re even conceived.

FB: I just want to make you happy!

Ahh, if only that’s how being a parent really goes…

ME: Ok, enough with the brown-nosing, shorty. Let’s get down to brass tacks. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just want to let you know that I’m still not quite ready to make you yet.

FB: But why? I promise I’ll start sleeping through the night right away, practically potty train myself and be all around developmentally advanced!

ME: Hmm, that’s a tempting promise FB, but I have to pass. The truth is, I’m just not mommy material yet.

FB: Well what the hell is wrong with you?

ME: Hey, watch the attitude, young pre-fetus thing! Last week, I watched Real Housewife of New Jersey Teresa screaming and crying and panicking as she received an epidural and THEN she was forced to give birth, which was so bad they wouldn’t even show it! All you could see was the closed door to her room, but you could hear the sounds, and I swear I think they were disemboweling her using some sort of medieval torture device. And then the other night I happened upon an episode of I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant on TLC in which a woman (who didn’t know she was pregnant) went to the hospital experiencing the worst pain of her life and then the baby came out and fell on her shoe! And it was GROSS. So if it’s ok with you, FB, I’m just going to wait until I really really want you in my life before I risk getting placenta on my Steve Maddens. (I wanted to say Manolos, but that would be misleading – sorry kid, there will be no trust fund waiting for you.) Also, I might add that I caught the end of I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant because I was waiting for a new episode of Toddlers & Tiaras to come on. I might as well slap an “UNFIT FUTURE MOTHER” sign on my forehead!!

FB: Yikes. You sure are neurotic. But in a loveable sort of way.

ME: Thanks. Don’t worry, when you finally become a real human life, I will teach you my ways.

FB: That’s what I’m afraid of.

ME: You and me both.

FB: So there is still no chance of me being created anytime soon?

ME: If all goes according to plan, then no. But I will say that I’ve seen a few babies recently who I actually thought were cute…or at least had potential. So I guess that’s promising. Here’s a tip: the cuter you are, the easier it will be for me to like you. I’m just saying…

FB: No problem, of course I’ll be cute. Look at who my parents are! <wink>

ME: Oh FB, you are a delight! I’m glad we had this talk.

FB: Me too. But what’s with all of these reality shows featuring horrifying childbirth scenes? I think it’s becoming detrimental to my existence.

ME: Good question, you’ll have to take that up with Bravo, E!, and TLC. It’s out of my control at this point. It seems I’m compelled to watch any reality show involving housewives, celebrities, or spoiled rich girls on either coast. Sorry, FB, your future mother is an addict.

FB: Yes, it’s very clear that you need help.

ME: Well it’s been real FB, but I gotta run. Maybe I’ll see you in a couple years.

FB: Ok, I’ll just be here…waiting to exist…

ME: Have fun with that. Peace out, FB!

FB: I think I’m already experiencing abandonment issues.

I went to San Antonio and all I got was this lousy cold.

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Sorry about the negative title of this blog post. I did, in fact, get a lousy cold or some other type of ailment that makes me feel like I swallowed sand paper and my head is full of wet sponges and the mere act of picking up my purse is likely to make me collapse from exhaustion.

I’m blaming the Alamo. Or the plane that brought me back from the Alamo last Monday and the sick person riding on it with me who probably needs to be reminded to wash his/her hands more often.

So here I am, with some exotic Southwestern Tex-Mex illness (sounds like it would go well with chips and salsa and a splash of lime if it weren’t for the illness part), and I just realized that I promised I would tell you about our trip to San Antonio. Well I’m not one to make empty promises.

Let’s hearken back to the good ol’ days of one week and three days ago when Will and I arrived in lovely San Antonio and before I was struggling to free myself from the death grip of the Ol’ Western Texas Black Plague.

First of all, the best thing about this trip was that we got to spend three solid days with our good friends Sarah and Anthony! Shout out to the Florentines! Sarah and Anthony live in Del Rio (scenic backdrop for the movie No Country for Old Men. If you’ve seen the movie, you know that I am using the word scenic loosely), where Anthony is an instructor pilot in the Air Force. It was only a couple years ago that he was deployed in Iraq running dangerous intelligence missions while I was comforting Sarah back in St. Louis by graciously escorting her to every wine bar and nail salon in the area. (Hey, when your man is at war on the other side of the world, alcohol and manicures are entirely necessary, and I was happy to oblige.)

What better way to spend Memorial Day weekend than with a veteran!? Thanks to Anthony and all of the other military people who are way less wussy than me!

Anyway, our trip with Sarah and Anthony can be summed up as follows:

Check into the Westin River Walk – great view of the parking garage!

Take a stroll down the River Walk (a really fun place to hang out with friends if you’ve never been there).

Zero in on the Mexican restaurant that looks like it has the best margaritas. Target acquired!

…3 pitchers later…let’s go play cards!

Will, Sarah and Anthony attempt to teach me how to play Euchre while I demonstrate my limited mental capacity after drinking frozen margaritas for 2 hours (not sure if it was the brain freeze or alcohol that was the problem).

Head to this bar:

We aren’t ones to ignore signs, and we did as we were told.

Bed.

Wake up. At 10:30 am.

I suppress my jealousy as Sarah and Anthony use their awesome iPhone apps to find a place to go to breakfast. My Blackberry Yelp! app didn’t stand a chance.

IHOP it is.

We get there, and apparently, IHOP it isn’t. It’s an IHOP Café – not the same thing. The more you learn…

Hit the pool. And the pool bar.

5 hours later…shower.

Dinner.

Cards.

Bed.

Repeat.

Ok, that was a really condensed summary, but I’ll just say this – it was a great time! I think we all left with a newfound appreciation for the card game “Golf” and a deepening suspicion for all servers named Joshua (inside joke alert!).

Due to the evil San Antonio Fajita Fever and lack of oxygen flow to my brain, I tire easily. Hence, these photos can probably sum up the trip better than my words right now.

And don’t forget the Alamo! Or remember it! Whatever. Where’s the Dayquil?

Summertime, summertime, sum-sum-summertime

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Hope everyone had a good Memorial Day! If you’re like me, you spent the weekend drinking margaritas, hanging out by the pool and strolling along the River Walk in San Antonio, TX. (I’m guessing you’re not like me, but if that really is what you did – weird! It was fun, wasn’t it?)

I’ll tell you everything you ever wanted to know about the Alamo, the IHOP Café we visited (be warned: it’s NOT a real IHOP!), and the pool bar menu at the Westin once I’m motivated to upload my pictures. But for now, we have this:

Oldies.

To me, nothing says summer like the musical notes of the upbeat classic golden oldies. Maybe it’s because the local Wheaton pool used to continuously blast the now defunct oldies station when I was a kid. (R.I.P. Oldies 104.3 with Dick Biondi. When I heard you went off the air, a little piece of my soul died.) Or maybe it’s because so many of my favorite summertime movies (Stand By Me, American Graffiti, Now and Then) are set to the nostalgic background of some great doo-wop hits. Whatever the reason, when I hear the high-pitched crooning of the Beach Boys or the engine revving and beginning notes of Leader of the Pack, I think summer.

So, since this past weekend we were unofficially thrust into the throws of the year’s sunniest season, I decided to make you a playlist of my favorite oldies that remind me of summer for all the road trips, poolside lounging and BBQs we have ahead of us in the coming months. You’re welcome.

Also, I’m still recovering from all of the relaxing (read: drinking) I did last weekend. My brain is fried, so making a simple list is about all that I am mentally capable of right now. Here we go:

1.  Don’t Worry Baby (or pretty much the whole greatest hits CD) – The Beach Boys

2. Sugar, Sugar – The Archies

3. Running on Empty – Jackson Browne (great for road trips!)

4. Come Go With Me – The Del Vikings

5. Crimson and Clover – Tommy James & the Shondells

6. Why Do Fools Fall in Love – Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers

7. Up on the Roof – The Drifters

8. Turn! Turn! Turn! – The Byrds

9. Hot Fun in the Summertime – Sly & the Family Stone

10. Runaround Sue – Dion

11. The Little Old Lady from Pasadena – Jan & Dean

12. Up Around the Bend – Creedence Clearwater Revival

13. Leader of the Pack – The Shangri-la’s

14. I Wonder What She’s Doing Tonite – Boyce & Hart

15. I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch) – The Four Tops

So crank these tunes for a good time this summer! Unless you don’t like oldies, in which case you probably stopped reading this post awhile ago. Also I’m just going to go ahead and call you un-American since you’re not reading this anyway. So there. You were just schooled in passive-aggressiveness. BAM.