Confessions

From left to right, the story of our home given to us by the prior owners, turn of the century love poems which were rolled inside of our rings and passed around a circle to be blessed by each of our guests during our wedding, a drawing given to me from M, a photo of Andrew and I, a photo of my brother next to a portrait of Dali, a note from my best friend's mother, a pressed flower from my father's funeral.

So tonight I'm sitting in our completely war torn and freshly painted Office (there WILL be an explanation soon since I know you're thinking, Whoa, you just finished that room, didn't you?), and I'm reading yet another email asking about our wall of frames. First of all, these are the kinds of stunts that you should be used to by now, things like me throwing up scribbled hands and piles of poetry and offering up little in the way of descriptions beyond vague threats to replace them with mirrored ceilings. Secondly, if you're emailing me to ask an opinion about your wall hanging and you purchased it from a section in a department store labeled Housewares or Home Decor or Artwork I will tell you that the most important thing is that it offers you joy and inspiration or that it holds some sort of meaning or symbolism that is sacred enough for you to look at each and every day. That's what I'll respond with. And I'll mean it. But what I'll WANT to write is that you might as well slap an unframed New Kids On The Block poster above your bed, because let's be honest, there's not really a difference.

It's Because It Needed It

The other day, we uncovered a large painting that Andrew had purchased in his bachelorhood and the whole time we were unpacking it I was reliving exactly how I felt in the first moments when we met. Which means that I kept waiting for the wave of nausea to turn into a full fledged vomit fest, complete with an overwhelming desire to drop kick the piece into a tub full of acid.

I can't remember why he insisted we keep it, maybe it was the obscene price that he paid or the hidden love he has for black stained orchids, but as soon as we moved in together it ended up stored in a closet next to my collection of high school formals.

Last night I hatched an idea which ended with me attacking it with a paint brush, the most serene thirty minutes of my week. I took this picture midway through.



I'd like to point out that I did leave the black banding around the edge.

Roy's Restaurant

Roy's Hawaiian Fusion Restaurant is one of the best dining experiences I've ever had and that includes Sensi, New York Prime, Cafe Martorano, and Joe's Stone Crab. We were recently gifted a dinner at the Jacksonville location by a client of Andrew's (her husband is invested in the restaurant), and we had no idea just what a treat we were in for. The impressive cuisine was one thing, but the wait staff and attention from management was what really blew us away. I walked out of that place wholly convinced that I was wearing a crown on my head and pooping a trail of Peretti pieces. It was that good.

In fact, when I mentioned to our waiter that he resembled Scott Baio he only smiled, even as Andrew hissed, "Kelly! I cannot believe you just said that!" Because, apparently, it's not a compliment.

This Was The Part Where We Pet Stingrays

Yeah, we pet stingrays and sharks yesterday. There's a special exhibit going on at the Jacksonville Zoo, and since we had never been there before, we thought, Why not ring in our first anniversary in a pool full of predators with exceptionally sharp teeth? Afterwards, I surprised Andrew with a couples massage, and we grilled steak and crab legs for dinner. It sounds lovely and relaxing, but it was far more stressful than I'd anticipated thanks to someone who couldn't find the OFF switch and was messing with my massage chi. Which led to a conversation about canoe building and flatulence, discussed as completely different subject matter, of course.

But, anyway, this post is about stingrays.

The Dictionary Of Andrew

Me: What did you just say?

Andrew: That because they're each their own legal entities they won't be considered for the same pricing.

Me: No, before that.

Andrew: I don't know?

Me: You said "supposebly," didn't you?

Silence.

Andrew: No.

Me: Really? Because I swear that I just heard you say supposebly.

Andrew: Anyway.

Me: Anyway.


Fifteen minutes later.

Me: Well? What did you think of adding the graham cracker crust?

Andrew: Eh.

Me: No? I liked it.

Andrew: I don't know. It wasn't flavorable enough.

Silence.

Andrew: And, yes, I JUST SAID FLAVORABLE.

I Could Name Ten Reasons

Why you told me that I had to see this movie. God, I could name ten thousand.

But you and I already know.

Are You Scott Hayim?

A few minutes ago I opened my email and saw this.

"Hi Kelly!

I'm so terribly sorry about this. I am the person who posted Anonymously as Scott Hayim earlier on your blog. I had written up a sincere post about how much the Rug Decor commercial upset me, but I couldn't get it to post properly. I had Googled Rug Decor after seeing the commercial to get some facts about the company and share with my friends to not patronize this store. I put together the post that ended up on your blog and was still frustrated that I couldn't submit it. My girlfriend told me to try Anonymously, which I did and then the post was accepted! I'm sorry to have upset so many people on your site, I just wanted to step up and tell you what had happened.

Sorry again,
Ben"

Those of you reading this may be wondering how in the heck "Fuck all of you hippies!" constitutes an effort to discourage people from using Rug Decor and if Ben is actually a ten year old girl peeing in her pants or a secretly disgruntled BP employee with a thing for four letter words. I have been wondering the same thing for two minutes.

Chacha had warned me that it might not be Mr. Hayim, but I reasoned that I had yet to have a case of stolen identity on here, at least one that I've known about. There's a first time for everything.

So it turns out that Ben is not Scott. Or maybe it is Scott who is pretending to be Ben so that we don't know that it's Scott? And if it turns out that Scott is Ben who is pretending to be Scott than what does that say about the future of rug sales in America? And how do we know that Scott and Ben aren't really best friends? Or identical twins? Or gay lovers? Or maybe they are completely unrelated but both drove Thunderbirds in high school? And do you regret that you Twittered this to forty five thousand two hundred and sixteen people?

But back to the point.

CEO's are supposed to take naps under their desks during the day, which would explain why a lot of them don't have particularly vibrant blogging lives. When executives don't nap they can become snippy and difficult to get along with, I CAN PROMISE YOU FROM LOTS OF FIRSTHAND EXPERIENCE. This provides us with two likely scenarios, based on evidence and criminal profiling, can you tell that I've seen one too many episodes of Law & Order Special Victims Unit?

First scenario, Ben could not be Scott. Because Scott was sleeping under his desk.

Second option, Scott is Ben who posed as Scott but who is now passing himself off as Ben.

Either way, does it really change the craptastic level of a commercial which is essentially exploiting a tragedy?

The CEO Of Rug Decor Says Fuck All Of You

"Fuck all of you hippies!

Scott Hayim"

The Chief Operating Officer of Rug Decor responding in the comments to this post.

A Conversation Between Friends

When Where What 045

when: Saturday
where: driving to Gainesville
what: wondering if I'm the only person who wants to pull that truck over to confiscate the dog

Three Hundred And Sixty Three Days

That's what Andrew said to me before he left for a few business meetings this morning.

It's hard to explain how I feel about the approach of our first official anniversary date, it's a combination of surprise, fear, terror, enthusiasm, and continuing apprehension. But I can also tell you without hesitation that we have enough little moments, the ones when I burst into laughter so hard that my stomach hurts, that it makes it easy to forget that there was a time when I was certain that I'd never get married.

In the months following our engagement and marriage we went through a lot, including the South Florida real estate collapse and a breast cancer scare, both of which, thankfully, we seemed to have dodged. However, we also experienced events like the passing of my father, becoming parents to another puppy, and being corporately relocated across the state, which completely changed our lives.

Somewhere along the way I learned how truly intimate the act of being a husband and wife is, and that all of those people who told me that it's exactly the same thing as living together totally lied. It makes me want to forewarn any other woman out there who is considering tying the knot that one day you'll be folding your husband's socks while watching a rerun of the volleyball scene in Top Gun and then BAM it will occur to you just how many nights you've spent awake listening to his snoring or enduring endless discussions about differences in weed wackers.

And you'll say to yourself, "Wow. It's so worth it."

Surprises

This week I'm finally tackling the mound of unpacked boxes living in The Dining Room, and I uncovered a few of my treasured watches. No more naked wrists! Sort of feels like Christmas today.

1. 2. 3.

1. Classic Fendi Timepiece
2. Bulova Goldtone Diamond Ladies Watch
3. Marc by Marc Jacobs Diamond Wrist Watch

I'll write more about what I've got planned for The Dining Room when Manny's snoring calms to a decibel below a Black Sabbath concert and I can manage to string together a proper sentence. But until then I'll give you an excerpt from my second favorite conversation with one of our contractors regarding the design.

"Sorry for being so specific about the detailing, but if we're going to store our underpants in The Dining Room I have to be comfortable that they're not going to be, like, exposed during a dinner party, you know?"

"I don't mind the panties part as much as I do the legs and the insert -- if we're not careful the weight is going to pull my entire piece out of that hole you've got there. And then your underpants will be the least of your concern."

Rug Decor Commercial Designed Sans Taste

I just saw a new Rug Decor commercial that touted an "Emergency Rug Sale" because "the oil spill in the gulf can save you money!"

So pitiful and, with so many lives being lost, it's undeniably vulgar. Who approves this kind of advertising?

Working Hard

We're going to have to start making cuts on the payroll around here.

All About Andrew

1. I'm the only girl who has ever called him Wood without it making him cringe. He calls me Muys, but only lately as a way to point out that I haven't legally taken his name yet. I had every intention to until I realized that the necessary mountain of paperwork is slightly larger than a baseball diamond.

2. He asked me to marry him one morning in bed. I thought he was joking until I opened my eyes.

3. He'd lived in South Florida for less than six months when we met. He'd bought a place and furnished it with a cardioglide and televisions the size of Montana.

4. He pursued me pretty relentlessly, but waited so long to make an actual move that I figured he just wanted to be friends.

5. Before me he dated a girl with a New Jersey accent who drank a lot of Jagermeister. Which I found out after coming across her stash in the freezer.

6. He's seven months younger than me, which he loves to point out.

7. His parents are the most involved family members in our lives. We wish we could see them more often.

8. He's a really good gift giver.

9. The photograph above was taken this morning when he asked if he needed to wear a jacket to a meeting. I said, "Yes, and strike your Brooks Brothers pose so I can take a picture."

10. He went to the University of Indiana for his undergraduate degree and DePaul for his MBA. I had briefly considered going to Purdue where my grandfather received his engineering degree, and it's quite possible our paths would have crossed.

11. I've never shared as many core values with a person I've been involved with as I do with him.

12. He says I'm smarter, but I think he might be more intelligent. I have a sharper visual memory and put together ideas faster, he solves problems really well. He's way better at prioritizing. Whenever there is a list to be made or a schedule to be adhered to, he leads. If there's a business plan to be drawn up or a project to be tackled, I take the reins.

13. He's the oldest sibling in his family and was born in January. Coincidentally, every man I've ever dated, almost exclusively, was a first born with a birthday in the first couple months of the year.

14. He loves Chicago style pizza. Don't even get him started on Giordano's.

15. He never pushes me to divulge information about my childhood. If I tell him about a stay in Amsterdam, he never misinterprets it as an open invitation to ask why my father supported Ronald Reagan and Lee Iacocca.

16. His exes are few and far between and seem quite like you'd expect them to be. Mine, on the other hand, provide enough material to produce sixteen four hour psychological thrillers starring Christian Bale. I remember when he quietly admitted that he'd dated a hairdresser and then waited for my reaction. I was like, "A hairdresser? A hairdresser? Is that all you've got? I have an ex boyfriend who stockpiles automatic firearms in a safe room and used to be a stripper." And I didn't even tell him about the one who showed up at parties and passed himself off as his father. WHO WAS THE MAYOR.

17. He's a natural runner and baseball player.

18. He can grill like nobody's business.

19. He travels a lot for work. So much that I have a hard time keeping track of what cities he's in.

20. When he focuses on something, it's nearly impossible to get him to change his direction. I know someone else like that. Reason Forty Two Thousand Nine Hundred And Sixty Two to be cautious about reproduction.

21. He believes that we are meant to be together.

22. He always wakes up first and then wakes me up. Otherwise, I sleep through our three alarm clocks, his shower, two lamps being turned on, and the worst local morning news anchors in the state of Florida.

23. He doesn't really believe that men and women can be friends. I do.

24. Men's Health is his favorite magazine.

25. Not a single time, did he ever get snippy when I cancelled a dinner or backed out of plans when we were dating. He was never, ever moody or possessive about it. He'd just call me again the next day. No pressure. It's probably a large part of why we're together now.

26. We're both big eaters, but I'd take him out in a competition hands down. Because of this he knows to protect whatever is on his plate like it's his last meal.

27. He treats me exceptionally well. He's really good at marriage.

28. One of the first things he ever disclosed about himself was, "Even though I work with software, I'm not a computer geek." Which really bummed me out, because I've always wanted to date a hacker.

29. He's decided to name our fantasy football team Bieber Fever this year. I am vehemently opposed to the idea.

30. We have no pre-nuptial agreement. There. The cat is finally out of the bag. And I know one or more of you are thinking, "Idiots!"

But He Still Opens The Doors

No joke, Andrew's the type of guy who uses the words Date Night. Early on in our relationship he suggested the practice once or twice until he realized that it makes me throw my hands to the sides of my head and yell, "Ear muffs!"

This is the way that I prefer our outings, slathered in helmets and sunshine with a sprinkling of risk.

I get out of wearing my Spanx that way, too.

We're Everywhere: Dix Neuf

We have a morning routine where we plunk down in front of our laptops and devour our eggs and coffee over a little leisurely interweb surfing. It's something that we've done ever since we've been together, and it probably has to do with the fact that there hasn't been a nine to five in my life since a year after graduating from college. Did you notice how I just generalized that statement? Yeah, I was referring to The Spirits Of Boyfriends Past, boyfriends comparable to The Redhead only in this lone instance since they all, collectively, have things like movable hair and issues with their mothers. Once I found one with an unpredictable schedule and no use for hair clubs it didn't take much before I was sold on his left hand ring idea.

Anyway, not surprisingly, mornings are the time when I'm most likely to read your post about disgustingly cute baby garb or inspiring office set ups and you may have guessed from a few poorly spelled or incoherent comments that I tend to be half asleep. Actually, your first guess was possibly intoxication, but that's only happened, like, once. Or something. Mostly I'm holding my eyelids up with coffee stirrers and trying to remember if I've already taken one fiber supplement or two because I haven't gotten enough shut eye. Frankly, I don't think that my brain fully boots up before noon. For instance, this morning I was peeking around and realized that I've forgotten to thank Better After for featuring our Living Area, the one with 39,221 velvet curtains, on her blogoplanet the other day.

SHAME ON ME.

Details Details, Take 8: Glossy Ceilings

Details Details points out little things that make a big difference.



These people dared to make their ceiling so shiny that they don't even need mirror ceilings. (Why is this not at the top of every single design blog on the face of the planet?)

Anyway, you're always asking me for dreamy ideas for new construction homes, and this trick would be at the top of my list. Right after tying a sixty foot boat to the back dock or ordering up a Johnny Depp look-a-like as the pool boy, but I digress.

Check out Regina's post if you want to see more.


This post is linked to The Thrifty Home's 35th Penny Pinching Party.

When Where What 044

when: the last few months but no longer, because someone has been busy on things besides snake taming, believe it or not
where: here, the next space on The List, LET THERE BE DRAWERS
what: three suitcases screaming, "We refuse to continue looking at Violet Beauregard walls all day!"

I'll Catch Up With You

Someone left me a really nice message the other day, and although I never returned the call, the voicemail is still in my inbox. Yes, I still get tipsy after a half a glass of wine and still think that text messaging is for twelve year olds.

I know that it's been a while since we've talked, and I really should have called you back sooner, but just think, now I get to respond to you in a post that you'll never read on a blog that you don't know exists. Lucky you.

I'm not sure what happened, but you know how I am with involvements, and by that I mean that I remember you, of course, I remember you, and I'll catch up with you soon.

You do remember what I mean by that, don't you?

When Where What 043

when: nearly six months after this
where: thanks to another round of Tony Horton in our office
what: I'm at least partly to blame since he caught me flexing in the bathroom mirror the other day

This Is Love: Dog Bike Baskets

Check out more of what I love over this-a-way.


Ever since we picked up our new Schwinns a couple of months ago, I've had my eye out for a sidecar for Slate and Zoe. What do we think of this Solvit Wicker Dog Basket? It has a removeable sun roof, sheepskin interior, and a little safety harness for jumpers.

I could see their little ears blowing in the wind in this, no?