it's the little things...

On Saturday I was given a not-so-surprising surprise 30th birthday party. I suppose I’m a fairly skeptical person who pays attention to detail. When you add to this some friends who inadvertently spill the beans…well, you get the picture. What’s funny is that I was still nervous walking through the door even though I knew what was on the other side. Who knows why… I had quite some time before the actual event to think about who might be there. I anticipated the usual suspects, friends who live in the area and usually get together for various reasons. But I also started thinking about old friends I haven’t seen or talked to in years. Friends near and far who all played a part in my life. Since I grew up in a small town and knew some of my friends from kindergarten through graduation, I rarely experienced people coming into and then going out of my life. That was one of the big adjustments of college. After awhile, I realized that some people just aren’t meant to be in your life

I bring you the kitchen. For some reason, this was the room I wanted to paint the most when I bought this house. I'm not sure why. Maybe because it always ends up being the heart of a home. Maybe because it was old-sock grey and had so much potential. I mean, really, why not make those built-ins pop? It was also the dirtiest room in the place. It took days and several people to make it livable. And it holds my first major appliance. The fridge. When you walk in the front door of the house, you come into the living room. If you keep walking forward, you get to the dining room. (Those rooms will come later.) Turn right off the dining room gets you in the kitchen. Look left=kitchen; look right=breakfast area. Here's how the place looked shortly after I moved in. Seriously, it was fairly soon after. I can't stand things lingering in boxes and I hate bare walls. This picture is the left side of the kitchen half of the room. (Love the wine storage, plate racks, and freaki

It's been awhile since I've done a 10 Things list. This week I was in Shreveport for the second time. Then popped by IAH long enough to change planes and head to Austin. One more day and then I can go home. I can't wait. It's funny, having a house. It's like having a child (well, at least for the single, childless, petless gal). I talk about it a bunch and I show people pictures. I carry paint colors in my wallet like others carry photos of their children. I think about it when I'm gone and dream about what it can become in the future. I know, right after I go home I'll turn around and check myself into an institution. So, Shreveport... Early morning flights that take me there are empty. Six people empty. There are several good hole-in-the-wall restaurants and my site can recommend them all. You can get sweet tea everywhere. People are generally pretty chatty. Their little downtown looks kind of nice from across the Red River. I was able to gamble

Or, "depressing thought for the day." It said, "Every 14 seconds AIDS makes another child an orphan." Seriously, how sad is that?

It was a productive day. Fantastic weather! But before you get too excited, I have still not gotten my computer fixed. I'm working around it. Finally, at long last, a picture post. I have so many pictures I'm not sure where to start. I thought about a tour or some befores/afters. But I think I should start with the details... They are really what drew me to the house in the first place. So, without further ado, I present to you...the details.

Some odd and ends... To follow up on my gas situation (see #11 ), my house is apparently very energy inefficient. This should not come as a surprise since it's about 80-ish years old. I've been perusing the net to try to find some solutions. In the meantime, I'm just trying to conserve. My gas bill was down about 25%. Could I possibly be a homeowner? Could I possibly be old? I'm talking about my gas bill. Sheesh... At the bottom of the blog, there is now a quote of the day. This is randomly generated by someone other than me. But so far I like them. The space up there under the title (the subtitle, if you will) is the end of my Happy List (see #91 ). The next time it changes it will include "little things" that have made me happy over the last few days (weeks?). New poll inspired by this . New quiz inspired by my birthday. Oddly enough, I am Aquarian but am only 53% according to the poll. This week I was called an old maid by another woman. Later the same day

I'm not going to get into the reason why but it has nothing to do with Valentine's Day or turning 30. But, really, how could either of those help a situation? You know what's fun to do when you feel like an emotional mess of a person who only takes a break from being on the verge of tears when she's actually crying? Going to a singles event. Really. There's nothing like already feeling like a horrible human being to lure in the guys. And it makes you super confident and want to approach all the cute ones. And when they have you play this game where guys get locks and girls get keys and you have to go around trying to find the one who fits and you try like 30 locks before you find the person hours later and it feels like a whole freakin' analogy to your dating life where everyone else has made a match (or two or three) long before you have? Yeah, that rocks, too. So, yeah, I'm going through some stuff right now. Note: Ok, doing better. Am not bipolar, I swea

That's how many days old I am today. Or, in years, 29 + 1. That's all I have to say about that right now...

Why is it that when you make mac and cheese out of the blue box you always get that one hard noodle when all the rest are done?

Awhile back I saw an episode of one of those weekly nighttime news shows where they were gauging the public's reaction to various situations. They showed instances of couples (actors) arguing and it getting physical. They showed actors who were falling-down drunk and trying to get behind the wheel. They varied things like race and gender to see if the public reacted differently. After the program, you were left thinking that it was a shame that more people didn't step up for whatever reason. Maybe they didn't take an interest in the person/situation. Maybe they felt it wasn't safe to interfere. Maybe they thought it was none of their business. You also were left wondering how you would react in the same situation. Another interesting scenario involved a cab driver (an actor again) who was blatantly racist. He talked negatively about just about every group of people. The passengers reacted in many different ways. Some ignored it, some joked, some agreed, some t

Actually, it feels the opposite. Any way to rewind back to Friday evening and have another weekend? I am super unmotivated this morning. Even though I was in town all last week (and had lots of office time), I still didn't get everything done. I think everyone has things related to their job that they put off. Things that just are way at the bottom of your list of favorite things. Those are precisely the things I'm supposed to be doing today. And of course today is the most beautiful day we've seen in awhile. Clear skies, sunshine, warmer temps. I could be working in the yard. Or taking a destination-less drive. Or basically doing anything other than working... I've been thinking about time quite a bit lately. Here's the relevant quote of the day: "Those who make the worst use of their time are the first to complain of its brevity." — Jean de la Bruyere So what is the best use of one's time? I suppose it would be doing things you enjoy doi

I miss Sex and the City . I've seen every episode prior to them being put through the PG filter that non-HBO channels require. And I've seen quite a few of the filtered episodes. Some people complain about the editing but I don't mind. At least I can still get my fix. If I still watch it so often, how can I miss it? I miss seeing new episodes. I want to know what's going on in the characters' lives. Did Big really commit? How's Steve's mom? Did Charlotte really get that baby from China? Is Samantha still with Smith? The questions go on and on... I've read some of Candace Bushnell's other novels. They're quick, easy, frivolous reads. You become submersed in lives that seem so foreign. Lives of excess. Lives where people don't seem to have real jobs and yet can mooch off others and become world travelers with $1,000 shoes. Even though I can't imagine a life like that I know that someone somewhere has it. Awhile back I found