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October 2006
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December 2006

Stop me before I start carrying around wallet-sized photos of my house and forcing strangers to look at them.

Hey! It's my blog's anniversary! Three whole years of this nonsense. To celebrate, I thought I'd do something really unique and wild and crazy and actually...wait for it...update my stupid blog. I know! Stand back, for we do know how to party around here. Don't even get me started on the barn burner that was our Thanksgiving. Hey there, good-looking. I'm a venture capitalist from Vermont. I have an emerging maple syrup conglomerate. Wanna dance? This past week has been a blur. Everything got kick-started into crazy fast motion last Sunday when we officially accepted an offer on our condo.... Read more →

Giving Thanks for the Whole "Not Going To Be Homeless" Thing

My very dark eyebags and I are pleased to report that we have a house. Okay, a townhouse. Okay, a contract on a townhouse. Okay, everything could still possibly go to fucking hell and back, but didn't the first sentence sound better and way less neurotic? I did not get my dancing monkey, but I did get four toilets, which is a downright decadent ratio of bathrooms-to-bladders, and of course no one will be allowed to use at least two or three of them because Jesus Christ, you think I am scrubbing four damn toilets on a regular basis? But... Read more →

Flipping Coins. And Nuts.

So. We hand over the keys to the new owners in 30 days 27 days. They are newlyweds and apparently we've "made their dreams come true." They are also going to "paint over everything, including the leaves I painted with my OWN HANDS in my son's nursery, letsnotthinktoohardaboutthatokaythanksbye." I've been saying "30 days" since Saturday, and yet it turns out that time is not a static concept but rather keeps on slipping (slipping!) into the future. Like dust in the wind, like sands through the hourglass, time marches on. I know! I am shocked, and frankly, I blame popular culture... Read more →

Under Contract

We are once again free to live with unmade beds, visible paper towels and brazenly exposed toasters. We have 30 days to find a new house, buy a new house, and get the fuck out. Uhh. Look! Here is a picture of my dog wearing a onesie. That pretty much sums everything up. Read more →

Unfortunately, pulling off the "skinny jean" generally requires one to get off one's fat ass occasionally

Realtor: There is a very good possibility that an offer will be coming in. Will you be available? Amy & Jason: YES! WE WILL BE AVAILABLE! EEEEEEE. Amy: *sits by phone, stares* Jason: *reloads for the millionth time* Amy: *PHONE. STARES. HARD* Noah: *cuts two enormous molars, FINALLY, thus ending a week-long streak of non-stop torment and snot and fever and screaming because Amy was so used to ignoring the endless dance of the bulging-cutting-swelling-disappearing molars that it never occurred to her to maybe give the poor child some Motrin* So that's pretty much all that's been going on... Read more →

What the hell is wrong with me?

On second thought, don't answer that. We don't have that many hours. Here's one obvious problem, at least: Just wait. It gets worse. For the record, I am ashamed. Deeply ashamed. And yet... Um. Hee? The best part is that's an EXTRA SMALL sweatshirt. For dogs "5 lbs +/-" And Ceiba will ALWAYS be an extra small, because she will never grow up and stop being my eensy weensy baby, unlike SOME PEOPLE AROUND HERE who are suddenly wearing size 24 month clothing, which is totally not as cute as those little polka-dot footie jammies, and the hats hardly ever... Read more →

Just Lose It

(The title of this post was meant to convey the Losing Of Amy's Mind, but is also [for those of y'all who are not as down and gritty and street as me] the title of an Eminem song where he goes "just lose it AH-AH-AH-AH-AH" in this weird voice, and I have been walking around the house singing that for hours now, and I don't know why I feel compelled to tell you this, except to say: I have for dead serious lost my everloving mind.) Noah has another cold. This is probably cold number five or six or 17... Read more →


But first, an aside.* You people CRACK MY ASS UP. Over 220 comments about toilet paper, with the vast majority of you copping to major "over" OCD and a tendency to flip (AND FOLD) other people's rolls. Seriously, I had NO idea there was a "right" way to hang toilet paper. NO IDEA. It's like that time I read how when you make the bed, any pattern on your flat sheet is actually supposed to face the mattress, so you can "see" the pattern when you fold the covers back or something, and I just couldn't wrap my mind around... Read more →

For Some Reason, I Blame the Internet

Okay, so remember the time I posted a picture of my exciting new toilet paper holder? (I mean, of course you do! How could you forget?) And a whole slew of you were all, OMFG YOUR PAPER IS UNDER AND IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE OVER I AM HAVING A STROKE NOW AAAEEEIIIIIIII? Honestly, the whole thing made me want to create an entire personality test based solely on toilet-paper-hanging preferences. Which I did. Look! OVER: Sort of nuts, crazed OCD type-A types who probably get those eyelid twitches a lot. UNDER: Laid back, easy-going types who probably know where to... Read more →

Gymboree Took My Stapler

I tried to take Noah to the "open gym time" at Gymboree* on Thursday. Don't ask me why. IT IS JUST WHAT I DO. But we had to turn around and come home instead, because Gymboree was ON FIRE. No! Seriously! I am only sort of being overly dramatic here. Not pictured: the two other firetrucks parked behind this one, because I wasn't sure if it was okay to be taking pictures of firetrucks, so I just snapped this one all discreetly-like from my car, lest the Invisible Photo-Taking Enforcement Police swarm me and demand my film, and no, I... Read more →