Growing up, I was taught that “home is where the heart is” – compliments of some hand-stitched needlepoint that my mom or grandma had done at some point and hung on the wall. There’s the part in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy clicks her ruby red heels together and chants ‘There’s no place like home’ three times then magically reappears there. Sometimes it’d be nice to be able to do this. Trust me – there have been times that I’ve wished I could click my glittery size 12 pumps (just kidding, those days are over) together and end up in my mom’s house with a home-cooked meal in the land of a lack of reliable cell phone service where the closest guy on Grindr is 4 miles away. Continue reading
Yes, I’ve been MIA for a while.
No, I have not have been on vacation again – although I wish I had been.
I’ve actually been working! Yes, that’s right…working. My unemployment adventure is D-O-N-E. Done. Donezo. Finished. Through. However you want to put it…I have a job again. Is it in the design field? Well, yes and no. One is, one isn’t. The one that is, however, is a whole different story that we’ll get to in a minute. In the meantime though….let’s CELEBRATE!!
I constantly joke with The Mothership that she’s going to end up on an episode of either Hoarders or some HGTV show that goes in to help a deserving viewer (or the mother of a viewer in my case) who started a project years ago and has yet to finish. *cough cough* yes, mom, I’m calling you out on taking several years and counting to finish repainting the kitchen cupboards *cough cough*
Anyways, she has this habit of “saving” everything from new-in-the-plastic-packaging Tupperware from when she used to be a sales consultant (when I was in middle school), mismatched glasses (take a look in her cupboard, I dare you), and old school projects and homework. Now don’t get me wrong, her house isn’t a mess by any means – or perhaps she just always has advance notice of when I’m coming home and cleans so I don’t have a heart attack – she’s a meticulous filer/organizer/Rubbermaid Queen. Our basement is a prime example of this. Shelves and shelves of Rubbermaid totes labeled with a black Sharpie indicating what’s encased in each veritable time capsule. Perhaps this is where I get my organization know-how.
Well apparently this Sunday was cleaning day because because I got a phone call asking if I wanted to know what she’d found. Fearing a dead mouse, small child, or long-lost snake that I’d put in a Ziploc bag and hid in the freezer years ago, I prepared for the worst and asked what she found.
“I found an ‘Interest Inventory’ you did when you were in sixth grade! It’s hilarious! Do you want to hear what you wrote?”
Umm…whatever an interest inventory is sounds interesting. Hit me with it, mom.
Apparently it was some homework assignment I’d done back in the day about what I enjoyed doing at the time and what I thought I wanted to do when I grew up. For your entertainment pleasure…I present to you, My 6th Grade Self. Continue reading
Roommates and I are like Goldilocks and the Three Bears. It’s always either one extreme or the other, however some are just perfect. When it comes to roommates, I’ve experienced about everything there is to offer. Good roommates, bad roommates, and everything in between.
Growing up, I shared a room with my sister for over seven years – welcome to having a two-bedroom home with two children – until we finally put on an addition, so sharing a room was something I was somewhat experienced with already when I went away to college. My roommate freshman year and I couldn’t be more different, yet we got along great. A communications major at the time, I was the social butterfly. He, on the other hand, was an engineering major who wanted to design roller coasters. Super cool, but always studying. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to him, and I wouldn’t have nearly failed out my sophomore year. But that’s beside the point. We got along great, even though we never really hung out much outside of our dorm room…partially because we were both slightly obsessive compulsive when it came to keeping our room clean.
Fast forward to sophomore year. I moved into a three bedroom apartment with three of my friends from freshman year. Since I was staying in the city to work for the summer, I got to enjoy having the place to myself for the summer. Needless to say, when they moved in, I lasted all of about three months before I decided to head for the hills – well, downtown rather – and go back to living on my own. Continue reading