I spent the weekend packing,  moving and cleaning and boy oh boy was it ever fun! Okay so that is a giant lie. It wasn’t so much fun as it was a pain in the ass.  However, I try hard to not be negative (read: I try hard to not be negative ALL of the time) and there was a lot of  good that came out of it.

Packing forces you to evaluate what is important to you and what you can do without. I got rid of everything that held a tie to a life I don’t wish to take with me to my new place.

Such as:

Decorations from when I was married – GONE!

Guitar from an ex-boyfriend that I never learned to play – GONE!

Shoes that pinch my feet and/or need to be repaired – GONE!

Clothes that are (now) two sizes too big – GONE!

Child size dresser I have been using since I was a child – GONE!

Gone. Gone. Gone! I feel so liberated!

Thanks to my wonderful friend Susan and her ginormous garage sale I was able to sell some items and I donated or gave away the rest. Honestly it is such a freeing feeling to have it all gone! I feel ten times lighter! I’m going to move into my new place with no decorations and hardly any furniture BUT the items I do have are things I got on my own with no negative energy or memories attached! Plus I now have every excuse in the world to shop!

Yay for new beginnings and profitable happy endings!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – a great big THANK YOU to ED, Jason and Staci for helping me move and for consuming the last of my food booze candy. Thank you to Karina the Russian for letting me store the furniture I have left in her garage. And thank you to my parents who were willing to put me up in their Jesus themed guest room until my new place is ready and for letting me borrow their truck and for letting my cat stay here too. She says “thanks”… it just came out sounding like a hiss… I’m still working on teaching her manners.

Aurora making herself right at home so long as the dog is outside.

Moving Blows

Why seven? Because my brain is filled with packing styrofoam and seven is all I can think of. Hell, I just had to spell check “styrofoam” because I spelled it “styrophome”. I’m THAT out of it right now!

1. Gathering Moving supplies. I have made two trips to the liquor store to get boxes. Unfortunately each time I go I feel bad just asking for boxes without purchasing anything, so I buy a bottle… or two. It’s like when you are on a road trip and need to use a gas station restroom; if you don’t buy a candy bar or an energy drink you are kind of an ass.

2. Newspaper turns my hands black. I’m a little more like my three year old niece than I like to admit. I don’t like it when my hands are dirty. Wrapping breakable items in newspaper gives me black hands and it never fails that I touch my face and walk around looking like I clean chimneys for a living.

3. Running into ex-boyfriend memorabilia. You know how after a break-up you take the heartfelt gift the bastard gave you and hide it in a closet or a drawer? You’re not quite ready to just throw it in the trash because, well, it was heartfelt and/or expensive. Then you go to pack and you open up that closet or drawer and it is sitting there like, “hi, I’m here to remind you of the painful past” and you want to grab it and toss it in the nearest dumpster because now you ARE ready, but you can’t because your new boyfriend is standing 10 feet away. Awkward.

4. Begging strong men to help me move. OK, so I didn’t really have to beg. Luckily I have men in my life who are pretty much obligated to help me move. But still I feel bad and I am sure there are a million and one other things they would rather be doing.

5. Having to confront “get to it eventually” piles. I can’t imagine there are people out there who don’t have these. If there are, I don’t know them. The “eventually” part gets put into “now” when packing because, at least for me, I can’t don’t want to pack a box of random crap that I am going to have to sort out a month later when I finally get around to unpacking.

6. Putting the rest of my life on hold. When you have a deadline of having to be out of your place in 3 days you have to say “no” to everything else, that sucks balls. Oh, you are in town visiting and will be leaving tomorrow and won’t be back until Christmas? Sorry, I’m not sure where I packed my purse or my keys and I am pretty sure I can hear my cat trying to get out of the box ED must have “accidentally” packed her in, so I guess I’ll see you in four months.

7. Unpacking. Do I really need to say more? It’s like after you do laundry and you finally have clean clothes to wear. You spend all this time washing and drying them but you still need to fold them and put them away. IT’S NEVER ENDING!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Bag full of complaints, Moving Blows

Slasher dreams.

Ever had one of those?

I’m not prone to nightmares. Crazy messed up Alice In Wonderland dreams are more my thing. My younger sister is the same way. Growing up we used to swap dream stories over breakfast every morning.

I woke up this morning to the complete opposite of my normal confusing-yet-innocent dreams. This dream was a psychological thriller mixed in with all of the gore you would expect from the latest Hollywood horror flick, complete with a crazed serial killer who created horrible torturous ways to test me. There was no running away from him, because he would always be wherever I ended up – one step ahead of me.

ED was in my dream too. The bad guy would created twisted moral dilemma situations where, in the beginning, I was hung by my arm in a rusty bear trap and ED and I had to find a way to get me out of it before I bled to death, but we had to hurry because a school bus full of children was being lured right to the killers blood bath creepy mansion, which is, of course, down a dirt road and has dismembered bodies and sharp objects littering the yard, AND to top it all off, we were trying to make it to dinner with our friends on time.

The craziest part?

My alarm clock goes off and I don’t jolt awake in a disturbed upset panic. No, I hurry and push snooze so I can get back to figuring out what the bad guy has done with ED (because he is missing now), I can’t find anything to wear (apparently in slasher dreams it is very important to have the perfect outfit on) and I’m pretty sure all of the children on the bus might be dead.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I slap the snooze button. Again. Pissed that it dare disturb my mission.

I find ED and he is with a bunch of his friends laughing and joking and SMOKING A CIGARETTE! I’m fuming mad at him because a) he doesn’t smoke so WTF? and b) I have a psycho killer after me and there could or could not be a bus full of dead children! I insist he takes a shower, a shower in the basement of the killer’s house, which we are apparently renting, while I look for something to wear so we can continue trying to escape.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

SNOOZE!!!

Finally, FINALLY we are out the door and running. We are holding hands and we are running through a mall… or maybe it was an airport, I’m not really sure. I look over at ED and it is not ED at all! It is the killer’s henchman who starts dragging me back to the blood bath creepy mansion and telling me I have to come with him if I ever want to see ED alive and with all of his body parts again!

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Already? Are you kidding me?

SNOOZE!!!

My body and my mind are starting to regain consciousness. I can hear the cat meowing right next to my face and I brush her off the bed. Doesn’t she realize how important it is for me to fall back asleep? I have to find ED and not get killed or get blood on my clothes because I have to go to work and crap, what about the bus full of kids? Come on sleep! Come get me! I’ve got to save the world before I get up and go to work!!!

It’s too late. I’m awake.

I lay in bed, petting my whining cat who has jumped right back up on the bed. I try not to be disturbed by the amount of blood and gore I just witnessed in my own subconsciousness. I’m slightly upset I was not able to save everyone but I’m more upset by the realization I am capable of dreaming up a monster like the diabolical serial killer in my dream. I created him! What does that say about me? Am I a horrible person? Do I have a dark side to me scratching the surface to get out???

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Urgh…

Begrudgingly I get out of bed, climb into the shower and try to wash the blood and guts away.

Dreams are crazy. I have no idea what this dream means. Hopefully it is not one of those foreshadowing dreams cause that would totally suck. I am so not a fan of torture, dead children, running or having nothing to wear.

Do you have crazy dreams? Like seriously messed up dreams? Please tell me I am not alone in the world of disturbing dreams.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Random

I’m moving back home with my parents.

I’ll give you a minute to let that sink in.

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*

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It’s only for about a month, but still, I’M MOVING IN WITH MY PARENTS! My my new place, which I am totally stoked about,  should be ready sometime mid to late September.

Two moves in one months time.

Also, have I mentioned school starts this week too?

If you need me I’ll be at the liquor store…  I hear you can get great moving boxes from there.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Apartment Life, Moving Blows

Let me just start by saying I LOVE MEXICO! I had an amazing time soaking up the sun and drinking the culture. We stayed at a beautiful four start all-inclusive resort. All-inclusive meaning, anything you could possibly want to eat or drink was included.

Just looking at this makes me want to go back

Standing by the outside of one of the entrances.

Our resorts stretch of beach. So amazing!

ED and I were some of the few Americans there. Most of the visitors were European or from South America, so I saw enough men in banana hammocks  and tight square cut short shorts to last me a life time!

The resort was actually four resorts combined into one. It is so large they have a train which runs from one end to the other, not that you can’t walk it (and walk it we did!), but tourists are lazy and after a few cocktails the walk can seem impossibly long, plus who doesn’t love a train, right?

Lazy (American) boarding the train.

As I mentioned before I left, ED and I decided that the best approach to this vacation was to have one active sight seeing day followed by a drunken relaxing day of laying out at one of the eight pools or under the umbrellas along the ocean beach.

For our first active day we decided to explore some Mayan ruins. We moseyed over to the tourism booth, you know, just to check prices. The gentleman working the booth took one look at us and knew the perfect hook, line and sinker question to ask: “you like adventure?”

I am proud to say I participated in every event! I hiked, I zip-lined over a pond with a crocodile, I was “blessed” by a Mayan priest right before repelling into their sacred freezing cold cenote water – which I might add is where they used to dump sacrificial bodies and the skulls are STILL AT THE BOTTOM!!!, I was the only girl who climbed the rope ladder out of the cenote instead of being raised out (no small feat I assure you!) and I canoed – well, technically ED canoed and I sunbathed but in my defense I was exhausted and he loves exercise, so really I was doing him a favor.

Even though I did all of these fun activities, I have no pictures to share.

At the start of this portion of the tour they explained we did not need to bring our cameras because the Mayan men following us around were taking pictures which we could purchase at the end.

Sadly, the pictures were so incredibly over priced (I’m talking $50 for only 4 shots!) we decided not to get them.

I do have however have a picture of the lunch prepared for us by the Mayan women from the village.

I kid you not, I am close to 2 feet taller than the Mayan women.

Soup, boiled chicken, spaghetti, and potato empanadas. A match made in Mayan Heaven.

The rest of the adventure tour took place at the Coba ruins. About a 30 minute drive form the village.

Standing in front of a sacrificial pyramid they wouldn't let us climb.

The strongest male to get a ball through the hoop first won the trophy of being sacrificed. Yay!

Riding a rickety bike around the ruins.

Us with our Italian tour mates. Language barrier? What language barrier?

Only the largest pyramid on the Yucatan Peninsula - Nohoch Mul.

At the top of the bazillion step Nohoch Mul pyramid. I was content to sit in the shade, but nooo! Somebody thought I might regret going there and then NOT climbing it.

What else would you expect at the end of a guided Mexican tour - Tequila!

Later that evening, on the long walk back to the room from dinner, I started to feel… not right. Not right AT ALL! I had a restless nights sleep and woke up doubled over in pain from massive stomach cramps. I spent the day alternating between the bathroom, the bed and laying in the warm sun on the beach.

I suppose there are worse places to recover but I assure you this was not how I had envisioned spending my relaxing day.

Now I can’t say for certain – mainly because I don’t speak Mayan – but I think the cause of my ailment was the supposed “blessing” the Mayan priest guy did. Somewhere in between the smoke and chanting and waving of branches, he must have included the phrase “buy our pictures or suffer from the worst food poisoning of your life”!

Makes sense right?

But what about ED? Did he get sick too?

ED grew up eating dirt in the country. His stomach in not quite as sensitive as mine. He felt a little sick but nothing serious. That is, until the Mayan priest sent a message to Jimmy Buffet so that when ED had his ginormous 32 oz margarita and fresh made guacamole in the airport Margaritaville restaurant before our flight home, he ingested the same poisonous revenge sickness.

ED vetoed the picture I wanted to use, but "IT'S 5 O'CLOCK SOMEWERE" is awesome none the less.

Too bad ED only had the comfort of his own bed to recover in. The sound of the ocean is much more medicinal in my opinion!

***

All things considered and despite getting cursed by a Mayan priest sick, I have to say this was one of my favorite vacations ever! I got to do and experience so many things that I could easily make this post three times longer!

I have a lovely sun kissed glow and I checked off almost everything on my “to do” list from Karina the Russian. Best of all, I got to experience it all with the man I am crazy about. After six days together, I still love the guy.

Truthfully I only wanted to murder him once… OK, maybe twice… but trying to trade me for a box of Cuban cigars is just not cool! It made me feel cheap and under valued. Hello! It’s called haggling ED. You should have at least held out for two boxes AND a sombrero, that way we could have checked off all of the items on the list!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

ED is not Emotionally Disturbed, Vacations

It took us up until the day before we left Mexico to figure out just how amazing their public transportation is. Seriously! You stand at the bus stop and a shuttle VAN, not bus, stops to pick you up and continues picking people up until it is full.

Air conditioning. Check

People watching. Check.

Sweet ass Mexican dance music. CHECK.

I may not be the sly-est camera woman ever, but I’m telling you, if public transportation was this cool in the U.S. everyone would use it!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – full Mexico vacation post, where I spill the beans about what Mayan holymen and Jimmy Buffett have in common, will be up tomorrow.

Vacations

I asked Sarah to guest post while I’m frolicking on the beach with my boyfriend. It’s the best way to rub it in that I’m on vacation with my boyfriend, while she’s single and working all week.

My friend, Summer, has it all: talent, brains and beauty. She’s also the most loyal person alive, which makes this post even harder to write. How do you tease someone that would do anything for you?

Um… easily? That’s my God given talent, and who am I to deny God?

With that said, I have to share a story from Summer’s birthday party last weekend. I’ve been watching her blog all week in hope she posts the story so I don’t have to, but I fear she has let you down. It’s a damn good thing I’m here!

After a large amount of birthday wine Summer decided to take the party outside. No one came prepared for the cool weather, so her boyfriend, ED, grabbed a sweatshirt for each of us. We sat in the backyard and continued to gulp down birthday wine when suddenly Summer disappeared.

A few minutes later she returned with a sheepish look on her face. “You guys are never going to believe what I just did in the bathroom!” My mind was racing. Was she really going to share a poop story at her own birthday? I prepared for the worst.

“I was looking in the mirror and noticed that ED’s sweatshirt said HATU. I stood there trying to figure out what in the hell it meant.”

I looked at her sweatshirt and almost choked on my own tongue laughing so hard.

A COLLEGE SWEATSHIRT

+

A MIRROR

= Drinking and then reading is really fucking hard.

Guest Blogger

The beautiful and talented Brittany over at Barefoot Foodie has graciously agreed to guest post for me. I heart her something fierce as she saved me from a drunken glitter queen while attending Blogher. I adore her and you are about to find out why.

***

As soon as I got the email from Summer asking for a guest post, I was psyched. I mean, I hung out with this girl in Chicago, and I would totally do anything for her. Anything (read: I will cut you).

So, I got all excited, hashing out ideas in my head for the deep and thoughtful post my heart would pour out for her. You know, the kind of world changing, totally work appropriate pieces I obviously specialize in.

So, there I was, all postpartum chubby, Carrie Bradshaw, poised on the couch with my laptop watching old Project Runways for inspiration while my husband sat next to me playing WoW.

Quality one on one time is clearly lost on us.

Anyways, I was trying to narrow down one of the many globally relevant topics I was going to broach on this very blog, when Andy looked up and said, out loud, that Heidi Klum did not have the body of someone who had three kids.

Really?

And…I do? I mean, I am obviously not Heidi “I set impossible standards for anyone who has given birth, ever” Klum, buuuuuttttt….that seems like a really insensitive comment from a man, who I assume, wants to have sex with me again in the near future.

So, I scrapped my inspirational piece, and sat on the couch pouting, and going over the list of super hot celebs I would totally bone (yeah, I can’t believe just typed that word either) with my husband’s permission, should I ever meet them in real life. You know, your celeb free pass list. I am sure you have one of your own. I like to keep up to date on mine for when my late night talk show takes off, and I find myself rubbing elbows with the very men I plan to see pantsless someday.

And then, I started thinking about how some actors are super hot on tv, and then you see them in real life, and they are a total let down. And, I’m talking to you, Steve Sanders.

So, why not make up an alternate list of the five characters I would totally have sex with, because that not only seems fun, but a good use of the time I had previously set aside to type up Summer’s profound, tear jerker and have sex with my husband.

#1 Edward

He glitters in the sun, and I love him. Back off.

#2 Mr. Darcy

Listen, I get that’s it’s “cool” to remake classic movies with relevant, popular actresses with pouty lips and humongous clavicles (coughKeiraKnightleycough), but to anybody who has read Pride & Prejudice 8 billion times, like myself, Mr. Darcy will only ever be Colin Firth. Sure, he had side burn issues, and a bit of a superiority complex, but the man was loaded and looked hot posting atop of horse, which, by default, means he is good in bed.

#3 Chuck Bass

Mother. Chucker. Not since Joaquin Phoenix has a hair lip been so sexy. He’s crass, and dark, and he’s a social drunk. All qualities I adore. Plus, he can rock the skinny jeans and argyle like no other. I would totally steam up the windows in the back of a limo with him.

.

#4 Luke Danes

I have a weakness for schlubs. Beer drinking, diner owning, flannel wearing, baseball hat donning, schlubs. Maybe he wears a hat all the time because he is balding? Even better. Any man who has that much patience, plus the ability to make me breakfast in bed, is a keeper. I will wear your necklace any day, Luke Danes…even though your sister Liz is a total lunatic, and your nephew is a douche bag.

#5 Snape

Yeah, I said it, I want to have Hogwarts sex with Snape. Preferably in a cold, dark room filled with potions and bottles of lizard parts. Does he need a good hair wash? Sure. Does he wear more black eyeliner than any grown man should? Absolutely. But, he’s the anti-hero, and his intense stare and goth cape tell me he is probably a total freak in the sack, and I don’t want to begin to go into what that magic wand of his can do.

And there we have it. Suck on that, Heidi Klum, with your stupid abs and Million Dollar Victoria Secret Bra.

Got a list?

Spill it!

Guest Blogger

I’m off to sunny humid Mexico, Riviera Maya area to be exact. If you live there please say “Hi”. I promise I’ll be easy to spot. Just look for the 6ft tall brunette laying by the pool buried in a book with a row of empty margaritas surrounding her.

That will be me.

At least every other day anyway. ED and I decided that in order to make the most of our vacation we would alternate adventurous, sight seeing, touristy days with relaxing, comatose, don’t stray too far from our room days.

The perfect vacation compromise.

Even though I’ll be gone, don’t think I will have forgotten about you, lovely readers! I’ve worked surprisingly not hard to find some truly amazing women to step in for me. Honestly, I thought I’d have to beg and plead or offer them my first born child to convince them, but you know it’s absolutely amazing how easy it is to get guest bloggers when you simply mention how Mexico has relatively loose laws regarding prescription drugs.

Go figure.

Adios Amigos y Amigas!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – My Spanish is a little, ahem, rusty… but I think what I wrote says “goodbye boys and girls”. Crap! I knew I should have listened to my Learn to Speak Spanish in 7 days CD’s again.

Uncategorized

What do you say when things are actually going OK in your life?

A few nights ago I spent an evening with two of my closest friends who are both going through a rough spot with their significant others. I listened to their stories, gave them hugs when they cried, used tough love where necessary and told them they are strong, beautiful, amazing women who can do anything they want! They are in control of their destiny and don’t let anyone tell them differently! GOT IT SISTER???

Sadly, I couldn’t join in with my own stories and upset feelings. I say sadly because everyone likes a good Bitch Fest. Here I am with the perfect opportunity to talk about all of the stupid little things that ED does that have been driving me crazy! A perfect time to vent my pent up frustrations!

But alas, I had none to share. Not right now. Not about ED anyway. Things are going ridiculously good between us and we all know the last thing a woman wants to hear when she is upset with her current relationship is how happy someone else is. Even if they love you and are happy for you, they are just not in a state to hear about it. In fact there is an unspoken rule when you attend a Bitch Fest: Save your mushy, lovey, “Oh my god he is so sweet because…” stories for another day or find yourself uninvited!

That’s how it goes. I don’t make the rules, I just live by them

I leave tomorrow for Mexico to spend just under a week on vacation with ED. My only hope is that he does a few asshole things while we are gone because I DO NOT want to get uninvited to the Bitch Fests because once you’ve been ousted from one you will find it very hard to ever get another invite.

Apparently word travels with these things.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Bag full of complaints, Dating debating