What exactly belongs in a dowry?

My daughter’s closest friend in her first grade class is a very sweet little boy. They exchanged Christmas presents and even went to the movies together (along with me, his mom and my son).

They talk to each other on the phone on the weekends and even chat while they play Webkinz  together. He has asked her to marry him on multiple occasions and she has refused. (that’s my girl)

This week I was told by his Mom (we email each other) that he has now invited my Mack on vacation with his family in March.

They’re planning a trip to Orlando – for a week.

He said that they’re driving down and he really wants Mack to join them. He told her to “wait at the Smoothie King” and they’ll pick her up.

His Mom said she wanted to give me a heads up in case I wondered where Mack was for that week. Whew – that’s good to know. I’ll pack the snacks.

Greedy

My favorite photo from Thanksgiving – my parents holding hands during ’grace’ – one of the few times a year that we are semi-religious. (but that’s another story)

Every holiday – every day – that she’s still here is such a blessing. But I’m not satisfied with that; I want more. (and that almost ended up as the title of this page)

Probably should’ve been packing.

And I really have a lot of packing to do – for a move & for a trip. Instead I made this:

A little journal to take with us on the cruise. I can record the events as they happen and then put the pictures in as soon as we get back. I’m thinking that there may even be a photo processing place *on* the boat… so maybe I’ll have a totally finished album before I even step back on land. Hmmm…

My entire family will be there – all together – on a boat – for five days. Do you think the boat is big enough?

A gay man trapped in a straight woman’s body.

Somehow I happened upon these two terrific blogs while looking for the perfect color to paint my soon-to-be-new craft room (guest room).

Check ‘em out:

Tom & Lorenzo - they love musicals… I love musicals! They dish. They judge. They bitch. What could be better than that?

Project Rungay - the perfect companion to an awesomely good reality show. More dishing, judging and bitching. Love it.

Creepy McCreeperson

In my attempt to do some scrapping I decided to get some photos printed. Okay, a lot of photos printed – well, a lot for me, anyway… about 80.

So – I upload them to my local retailer & wait for the notification for when they’ll be finished.

I drive to the store and pick them up. The dude behind the counter makes a comment on the number of photos I got printed. Then he says that a lot of people are taking pictures of the snow. Uh-huh. Then he talks about the icy roads & his drive to work. Okay.

Then he says, “Your pictures look great. I kept looking and there’s not a bad one in the bunch. Nice job.”

Um, okay. Thanks. I think.

Now… I know that people who work at photo places look at the photos they are developing. I mean - I would if I worked there. I’m nosey. (which is another reason why I work in HR) But, to actually comment on those photos? I dunno. I thought that was kind of creepy-weird.

Maybe it’s just me.

It’s doing it again.

Flamingos Do Not Like Snow or How to Blackmail a Star Wars Fan

(my little orchid plant doesn’t seem to like the snow either)  

The kids, on the other hand, definitely enjoyed it.

Our first ever snow. Our first ever snowman. He’s a cute little guy, isn’t he?  

This action figure tableau is for Frank, our brother-in-law… or so he says.

He used this snow in Georgia opportunity to recreate the battle scene on the planet Hoth. That’s what you would’ve done too, right?

I took photos instead.

That’ll be a short trip.

Today I used a 50% coupon at Michaels. I bought a storage thingy for my patterned paper. This forced me to organize aforementioned patterned paper.

Then I thought it would be a good idea to organize my scraps. They are currently filed by color and whether they are patterned or solid.

All of this organizing and ‘putting things away’ really made my head hurt.

Then I signed a bunch of papers with a mortgage broker so I could buy a house. (insert more head hurting here)

As I was organzing my patterned paper by color, my little girl was looking at the paper and suggesting uses for it. She saw some sort of Asian designed looking paper and said, “You could use this for when we go to China.”  

She continued, “But we’d have to get home before dinner because I do not like Chinese food.”

Cleaning and packing.

Buying a house is way more fun than the cleaning and packing that comes after it. But I’ve always been a better shopper than cleaner.

We haven’t even been here a year – but we’re already moving – that just doesn’t seem right. Then I remind myself that we’re moving into a home of our own & I get happy.  

This is what one of my precious colleagues said when I told him we bought a house, “oh crap, that means we’re stuck with her.”

Yes, sir. You are indeed stuck with me. (he likes to give me shit – it’s a twisted- brother-sister-hate-bicker-like relationship) He and I definitely don’t dance and sing to High School Musical songs – unlike my little brother-sister combo are doing right now.

Buying a house also means that I’ll be in Atlanta for a while. That’s something I haven’t quite wrapped my brain around; maybe that will come with time.

In between all the cleaning and packing – I’m hoping to find some time to get some scrapping done. Here’s one I did last weekend:

Happy Saturday!

I’ve been bound.

We have a “binding agreement” on the house.

Did you hear that? It was my stomach doing a triple-salchow-axle-toe-loop. Just like Brian Boitano.

Holy crap.

We close on the house at the end of next month.

I guess I should pack, right?