Tag Archives: Carlie

It’s funny to me, ok?

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I’m in a list-making mood today. I’m also tired and a little giddy for whatever reason. Put those two things together and we get this:

A list of things that inexplicably make me laugh:

1. Men who wear necklaces.

2. Almost all sportscasters, especially the ones on the radio, and not when they’re actually trying to be funny.

3. Tyra Banks.

4. This video.

I know most people are probably slightly amused by this, but for some reason, I seem to find it funnier than anyone else does. This is what I think of when I go to my happy place – an innocent child with extremely poor depth perception skidding across an unforgiving concrete pool deck. I’m sick.

5. Bolo ties.

6. That one Christmas song about the boy buying shoes for his dying mother. Come on, it’s just so obviously trying to get you to cry! So I refuse, and do the opposite.

7. Roller coasters. That sinking feeling you get in your stomach during the huge drops literally tickles me.

8. Handmade puffy paint shirts.

9. Miniature ponies

10. Casseroles. Why? I don’t know. It’s just that when someone tells me they’re going to make a casserole, I laugh.

11. Children in harnesses.

12. Poetry slams.

13. Meerkats. And sloths.

14. People who go on passionate rants about causes or political issues in Facebook status updates or blog comments.

15. The BP oil spill. (Just kidding! I wanted to see if you were paying attention. Also, I’m hoping for someone to start ranting  in the comments section so I can get a chuckle.)

16. The word “nosegay.”

17. Women at the gym who don’t put their hair up when they work out.

18. Mall walkers. Especially the ones who carry weights.

19. David Hasselhoff.

20. Precious Moments figurines.

 

What are some random weird things that make you laugh? Share! I’ll probably crack up at anything at this point.

Dress you up in my love (of cute tiny clothes)

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Is it wrong that what excites me the most about eventually having a baby is dressing it up in cute little clothes?

Obviously, girl clothes are way more fun than boy clothes, so I’m picturing my future first child as a girl.

Which means it will probably be a boy.

But at least then Will can have fun scouring the baby clothes racks for tiny tuxedos and pocket squares or a mini Mad Men-esque suit and skinny tie. (Seriously, that would not be beyond him. I promise I’ll draw the line if he tries to hand our baby a glass of scotch.)

As much fun as Will would have with a dapper Don Draper drool-monster, I almost have to suppress a squeal at the thought of buying miniature dresses with polka dots, bows, frills or any combination of the above. Also, did you know they make baby high heels now?

Once upon a time, I spent an afternoon dressing up Sindy, our loveable (and very, very patient) family dog in different outfits representing every month of the year so I could make a Sindy for All Seasons calendar. I’m not above doing the same thing to my daughter. I’m picturing it now…anyone know if they make baby-sized scuba gear? No?

Now I’m not a fashionista by any means, but I did take the plunge and purchase a “romper” (on sale!) yesterday. You know, for all the romping I plan to do the rest of this summer.

How cute would matching mother-daughter rompers be? You see where I’m going with this?? It would be totally worth any psychological issues my kid would develop from the pressure of being molded into a mini me. Sometimes there’s a high price for fashion (aka, whatever the going rate is for a child psychologist).

Of course, if I do have a daughter someday and insist on adorning her in the height of baby fashion, she’ll probably rebel and become a tomboy. My parents’ poor judgment in their choice of footwear for me as a little girl had a similar effect – I have since developed an intense aversion to navy blue boy shoes. With Velcro. But I guess that’s a good thing.

15 Things I’ve learned from watching The Hills

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I (and the rest of America it seems) have had a love/hate relationship with The Hills.

I love the pretty clothes, the pretty boys, the glamorized SoCal lifestyle, and the fact that the conversations between Audrina and Justin Bobby make me feel really smart and glad that I didn’t do a lot of drugs in college.

I hate the forced plotlines, the fake jobs, the fake hair, and the shame I feel for actually watching the show. Oh, the shame.

But I like to consider myself a “student of life,” and my life these days includes a lot of really dumb reality shows like The Hills. So in light of the series finale last night (and the extra half hour I’ll have every week to do something more productive like work on my novel – HA!) here are some things that I actually learned from watching this show over the past four years.

1. It’s always sunny in L.A. Always. (Feal the rain on your skin? What rain, Natasha Bedingfield??)

2. If you like clothes, go to fashion school and interview very, very poorly, amazing jobs at Teen Vogue and People’s Revolution will fall into your lap like rain from the sky.

3. Plastic surgery and Spencer Pratts destroy families.

Scary!!!

4. If you want to keep your best friend, don’t start dating her arch nemesis and then convince your other friend and the guy your BFF is casually dating to hook up. Very bad things will happen and you will find yourself in a club with your ex-BFF in your face screaming “You know what you did!”

5. Anything Heidi Montag does, do the exact opposite. That girl sticks to bad decisions like white on rice.

6. Alleged sex tapes should always be alluded to but never directly discussed.

7. Everyone in L.A. has slept with, gotten drunk with, publicly fought with, or broken into the house of everyone else.

8. The transition from reality TV star to movie star just does not happen (I’m looking at you, Audrina).

9. Wear heels. At all times.

10.  People in L.A. spend the majority of their time meeting people at nice, sunny outdoor restaurants so they can “talk.”

11.  Staring blankly at someone from across a dimly lit table can be interpreted as aggressive, seductive, sad or amused depending on the top 40 pop song playing in the background.

12.   When a reality show is failing, bringing in a “new” girl who is bitchy and swears a lot will surprisingly only make the show worse.

13.  If you date Brody Jenner, he will break your heart, then become your best friend.

14.  Enzo the neighbor boy will be in the market for a good child psychologist after his parents pawned him off on a vapid human Barbie doll and a rage-infested sociopath who didn’t really like him anyway.

15.  When a ship is sinking – jump off! (Nicely done, LC and Whitney.)

Oh Lauren, Heidi, Spencer, Audrina, Brody, Stephanie, Kristen, Lo, Justin Bobby, and Stacie the Bartender…I hate you! I love you! I hate how much I love you!

And I salute you all as you fade into ex-reality show star obscurity.

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.

Baby bucket list

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So I think I’ve made it clear on this blog that sometime in the future, Will and I would like to have kids (no more than two – please, I’m not a machine). I’ve also made it clear that I am currently extremely unprepared for this event.

If things go according to plan (which they probably won’t – I have a feeling that I’m jinxing myself by writing this blog and I will either get an early “surprise” or end up dealing with fertility issues, but hey, that’s just more blog material, right?), I have about two years to prepare myself for mommydom (or mommydoom, depending on how you look at it).

In the grand scheme of things, two years is NOT a long time. There are a ton of things I want to do and accomplish before I start having to deal with morning sickness, a rapidly expanding mid-section, and ultimately a small, helpless person who takes up residence in my house and won’t leave.

The clock is ticking, and my subsequent neuroticism is increasing by the minute. So, to focus myself, I’ve come up with this: The Baby Bucket List.

This is a list of things I want to do before I am with child. Hopefully I’ll be able to cross all of these things off in the next two years, and that would be great because 1) I love crossing things off of lists (yes, I’m one of those people); and 2) I will be more fulfilled and happy as a person in general.

CARLIE’S BABY BUCKET LIST

1. Go on a vacation to Europe. Right now, I’m thinking Italy…

2. Do more freelance writing – enough so that I could possibly make a living from it.

3. Buy a house/condo. This one in Chicago looks perfect. Who wants to chip in?

4. Get six-pack abs. Well, I’ll settle on a four-pack. Or maybe just flat with no “pooch.” I’m not interested in taking steroids or getting all crazy-Madonna-like muscle-y.

5. Find dopplegangers of all of my good friends. Ok, this one isn’t for real – just a shout-out to those of you who watch How I Met Your Mother. What is UP!?

6. Learn to cook. Or at least figure out some really good, healthy ways to use my microwave.

7. Watch the entire series of LOST on Netflix. See previous post.

8. Visit every rooftop bar in both St. Louis and Chicago. I love being outside. I love great views. I love drinking. I love not having a baby/child with me while I do it.

9. Go on a vacation to an all-inclusive resort. We’ve done this before and it was so great, I need to do it again before Disneyland is included in our list of possible vacation destinations.

10. Host a dinner party. This one is for Will. For some reason, he really wants to do this. I said as long as he cooks and makes his homemade sangria, I can get all Martha Stewart-y for a night.

11. Host a real party. Will and I have been married for almost 3 years now and have never had a big party with lots of people that gets somewhat out-of-hand. The window on this one is rapidly closing now that our friends are getting pregnant, so maybe I’ll get to cross this off the list soon.

12. Read at least 15 books. That’s 7.5 per year. As long as our DVR stays broken, I’ll be off to a good start. (Did I tell you our DVR is broken?? We are in full crisis mode.)

13. Go on a loooong road trip. Not one of those 5-hour dealies, like the St. Louis to Chicago trip we do every other weekend.

14. Drink a bottle of really expensive champagne. Like over $100. Maybe I’ll share some with Will.

15. Run a 10k. I know this doesn’t seem like much to all of you marathoners out there, but I hate running. I’ve run a million 5ks without training for them, and I could probably do a 10k, but actually making myself sign up for one is a different story. I just want to do it once and then never again.

16. Start doing yoga. I’m a little intimidated by all those stretchy people in their cute stretchy pants, but maybe I’ll become one…or at least improve upon my plywood-like flexibility.

Ok, that’s it for now, but this list is a work in progress. I’ll probably be adding to it as I think of more things I want to do.

So what do you think? Can you help me accomplish any of this? Anything missing that you think I should add? Why is having a new to-do list that probably won’t go away for a couple of years (if ever) totally stressing me out right now? I need help.