myth vs reality.

Every year in Indy we host an event that causes hundreds of women to flock to our city center, perked, plumped & ready to mingle....

The Firefighters Convention. 

Thousands of firefighters venture to our great city for a weekend of... well, really, hell if I know... conventioning. 

I know what you're thinking... 

(image source)

So my girlfriends and I headed downtown on Friday night for tapas, cocktails, and debauchery. After a homeless man hobbled into the restaurant, plopped himself down on a barstool right next to our table and passed out/died (? who really knows), we weren't sure how the rest of the night was going to unfold. However a few of the paramedics who rushed to his aid weren't bad eye-candy so we couldn't be all that mad. 

Sadly, as the night progressed we realized there was not a single oiled up man in sight. No eight-packs, no bare chests, no shirtless, suspendered men saving kittens.

All we got was a group of hicks from North Carolina who swarmed our patio table telling us they "saw all us ladies long hairs and just had to stop and say hi" in the slowest southern drawl I've ever heard. 

You win some, you lose some. 

Been around the world (na, na, na)

Last year, post #PopGoesMyLung, when I was still bedrest-ridden at my parents, LT helped me out with a project I had had in mind for a while.

LT. Ha. There's a name we haven't heard in a while. I'll say his help on this was appreciated, and leave it at that. 

I found out the mileage, as a crow flies, to each passport stamp I've gotten and painted them on these pieces of deconstructed pallet. And then threw them in a box and they sat in my closet for 12 months.

My parents were over helping me do some yardwork when my mom brought it up. To be honest, I had sort of forgotten all about them. So we drug em out, laid em out, let my dad dig a post hole, and busted out the Makita. 

Less than an hour later, I have brand new yard art that I absolutely love. The only down fall is that I am already 4 signs behind, for the places I went in Australia!

I can only hope that my biggest problem in the future is needing a bigger pole because I've run out of room!

Hop on my back, she said... it's a great idea, she said

They say a picture's worth a thousand words... so I'll just leave this sequence below for your enjoyment

Friday night we went out to the local beer garden to celebrate one of my best friend's birthdays. Suddenly, being the gal who never passes up a piggy back ride turned into my demise. The bruises don't look nearly as cute as the photo of us laughing hysterically above.

In avoidance of becoming the crazy cat woman.

I remember reading in a magazine once that you should always have at least one living thing in every room of your home.

13 cats seemed a little extravagant (closets not counted), and we all know I'm not ready to board the baby train to Duggar-ville, so plant life seemed like the most logical (and sane) alternative.

They also suggested fish, but I prefer my finned friends in the pescetarian sense.

All that aside, over the years I've slowly started flexing my green thumb. Most of the time, the green turns brown and eventually makes it way to a landfill, but I've managed to keep a whopping seven plants living thus far, and just acquired at least 5 more this weekend that I daintily moved into their new terra cotta homes. And by daintily I mean I dropped and shattered one pot, and repeatedly cussed out the cactus as I attempted to transplant it. I'm such a delicate ladylike specimen.

One day I'll have a blossoming home so glorious it'll join the ranks of these beauties. And maybe even a few still-living potted plants outside as well. Set your goals high, my friends.

Things I believe.

I believe in serendipity.

I believe that cuss-words are the statement necklaces of the English language

I believe that Snapchat Stories are going to be everyone's biggest regret on their deathbed.

I believe their is a third tier in hell for websites that have videos that automatically start. 

I believe you can always earn more money, but you can't earn more time.

I believe in faking it til you make it. 

I believe your shoes should never match your shirt. Coordinate, yes. Match, no. Unless we're talking all black err'thing.

I believe that only boring people get bored.

I believe that friends who offer to show up in a bear suit with vodka at the doctors office to keep you company are the best kind to have. 

I believe in telling someone when they have shit in their teeth. Or a booger hanging out. Or TP on their shoe. 

I believe that wearing nothing but flats is wasting your womanhood.

I believe that a mason jar full of change is the secret window to adventures.

I believe alcohol will never solve any problem at hand, but it's sure to make the process more fun.

I believe in forgiving but not forgetting. And never burning bridges.

I believe in getting hurt. I believe in hitting rock bottom. I believe in standing back up.

I believe in the power of putting good juju into the world.

What do you believe in? 

An ode to couples that don't suck.

If you want me to be completely honest here, some couples suck.

Maybe that's harsh, but it's the truth. There are some couples who, when you log a few hours with them, they just absolutely suck the life out of you. Whether it's because they're constantly bickering, or wayyy too affectionate, or only into each other, whatever. They just suck. And when you finally wrangle free of their grasp it's like the heavens open up and you're all THANKTHELUCKYSTARSIMSINGLESTILL.

Where am I going with this? Well a few weeks ago a small group of us began planning a trip down to Louisville. Specifically for bridesmaid dress shopping, less specifically for Thunder Over Louisville and shenanigans. 

When I realized this 'small group' would consist of two engaged couples, myself, and one of my best girlfriends, I was slightly hesitant. Was I signing myself up for a weekend of pre-wedded-bliss torture? 

Fast forward (rewind then fast forward?) through this past weekend, I remember making it a point to tell them on the ride home how glad I was that they didn't suck as a couple.

We chatted, we shopped, we ate, we drank, we ooh'ed and ahh'ed over airplanes and fireworks, we laughed until our abs burned and tears were streaming down our face, and then we ate and drank some more.

Truth be told, there was more than one occasion where watching them together warmed my icy heart up a little. Maybe ALL relationships aren't absolutely dreadful. Maybe.

In closing, congrats (and thank you) on not sucking, Courtney & Legends, and Amelia & Andy. I want to be you one day when I grow up.

march: currently

Scheduling doctors appointments and MRI's. As much as I had hoped to leave my medically laden 2013 behind me, it's unfortunately followed me into 2014


Cussing at the weather. It was high 70s on Sunday, and snowing this morning. Snow. What in the literal hell?


Patting myself on the back after going over my yearly review with my boss on Friday, I've been busting my arse ever since I took over the design department here at the house of booze a few years ago, and it's so nice being praised for my hard work and effort!


Cleaning up the mess I just made peeling & devouring an orange at my desk. It looks as if a toddler spilled an entire cup of orange juice everywhere.


Rocking out to Lionel Richie. What? Sometimes when Dancing on the Ceiling pops up you just let it happen.


Reminiscing to this time last year, I was still out of work following my lung operation, and I distinctly remember being glued to the television as the Boston bombing events unfolded.


Looking forward to a weekend in town. The past few weeks have been spent in Lousiville, Chicago, Las Vegas and Louisville again... to say I miss logging consecutive days in my bed is an understatement.


Craving fried chicken.

And I think I'll just go ahead and bow out on that note.