Murphy's Law, Or Something Like It...

I got my car washed today. Those of you familiar with the CRV know she gets pretty dirty and I generally wash her myself. Which of course means I wash my car about twice a year. Today, I finally took myself and the CRV on the adventure known as going through a car wash. I wasn't sure this was a fact until I actually got there but, I have definitely never ridden through a car wash before. It felt like Apocalypse Now in there. I was the worst person possible to be handling things like put the car in neutral! Hands off the wheel! Turn on your music so you aren't just hearing all those things (what are those things?) smack your car over and over again!

Anyway, I lived to tell the tale of the car wash so that's great. This was definitely a 'my car is covered in wintery grossness already, it would be nice to take a layer gross off' kind of wash. I had no expectations that my car would sparkle for days. Though the wash was very nice.

In an interesting plot twist I got home to my garage door being broken. It is currently stuck about 6 inches off the ground on its right side but is all the way to the ground on the left. Which means I had to park my very clean car in the driveway. The driveway that is out of doors. Where it rained for the better part of the evening.

I am now not only somewhat upset about my very clean car but I fear I will wake up to critters in the garage. Any number of things could squeeze through this opening and attack. Thus I will be up all night, worrying about the rabies.

The Story of the Bathroom Shelves

So I had this great post, in my head, about my recent home improvements. Notice I said home improvements and not crafting. Martha Stewart to Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor in like 24 hours flat.

So, this post was great, until my (mom's) camera stopped working. The Story of the Bathroom Shelves (as it shall hencetoforth be known) really only works with pictures. Pictures that won't upload to my computer.

So, maybe someday folks. Maybe someday you will hear The Story of the Bathroom Shelves, but today, is not that day.

Son of a bitch.

It's Like I'm Watching Animal Planet 24 Hours a Day

I have bad luck with animals. Household pets are not so bad but anything that comes from the outdoors I don't get along with very well. I pulled a blanket out from under my bed yesterday that has holes in it from being eaten through by a mouse. (The blanket has been super washed since this happened and it was like over a year ago so I figure it's safe now.) There have been deer tracks through our lawn (through the lawn, in the landscaping, they may as well pull up a chair on the deck and have a margarita) lately and I'm terrified of coming home some night, parking my car, getting out to get in the house and being face to face with effing rabid Bambi ready to eat my face off. This has yet to happen but I know it will based on today's little visitor.

I was driving down Heim Rd. in Getzville this evening when I saw a cat scampering across the road. Slowing down so I would not hit said cat I made a shocking discovery. What I thought was a poor little lost cat was actually a fox. A fox. A little red fox with a little black tail and pointy little teeth. Now Heim Rd. isn't exactly a freeway but it's also not surrounded by a national park. There are literally houses up and down every square inch of the street. There's a freaking middle school on it for God's sake. What is a fox doing just running around, across the street, from house to house like this is Animal Kingdom?

If anyone has an answer to this other than, "You're encroaching on their land and they have no place left to go so they just scamper around willy-nilly," I'd love to hear it.

Fun fact: If you Google Image search just the word 'fox' you'll mostly just end up with pictures of Megan Fox. In her underwear. Which would be great. If I were a 14 year old boy.

More Lessons in Homemaking

The Scene: My bedroom/My kitchen

The Players: Kristen and Georgie

Kristen, sitting quietly in her room, G-Chatting and job searching hears some mumbling from the first floor.

Me: What did you just say?

Mom: Hey Martha Stewart! Could you come down here for a minute and help me with something? (I kid you not, my mother actually shouted this up to me just to make fun of the fact that I had talked about feeling like I was 107 years old all week. She's a real spitfire.)

Me: I'm sorry; what did you say?

Mom: Seriously, I have a sh*tload of cinnamon sticks and cloves down here and I need you figure out what to do with all of them.

Yeah, that really happened. My Dad used to make tomato butter (I have no idea what tomato butter is as it always really grossed me out, but, I gather it involves tomatoes, cinnamon sticks, and cloves.) and hence we have piles of cinnamon sticks and cloves lying around and we have nothing to do with them. Georgie's way of fixing this problem: Call on me. Or Martha Stewart. Or po-tay-toe, po-ta-toe, as it were.

I spent the better part of my Friday night using said cloves and cinnamon sticks to make homemade teabags to use as Christmas gifts. Natch. This story has two points:

1. If you would like some homemade teabags for Christmas gifts, call me.

2. If you suddenly feel like you need someone to craft something for you, apparently, you can just shout at me whenever the mood suits you.

Do You Have A Better Method for Choosing A Team to Cheer For?

Yesterday was a college football lovers dream. I wish the Big Ten had a championship as I can only imagine how excited I would be. I planted myself sqaure in front of the television for hours yesterday watching the Big East, SEC, and Big 12 championships. It was delightful. Georgie has the same affinity for college football as I so she spent her day in the exact way. We were both cheering for Pitt as it is my Dad's alma mater (brutal loss BTW, really blew it). In the Big 12 game I was cheering for Texas as, I have a strange affinity for Texas football. (Georgie (who was cheering for the upset) explains to me that I like Texas football because I liked Vince Young. She says these feelings have transferred to Jordan Shipley and my like for Texas football is based solely on the fact that I'm boy crazy. So, I'm glad that's cleared up...)

The difficulty in this house lied in who to cheer for in the 'de facto national champoinship' (De facto national championship! Game within the game for the Heisman race! You would have thought it was the freaking Superbowl) SEC game. There are a lot of very good reasons to dislike both Alabama and Florida. Taking this into consideration I was really just looking for a great football game. Georgie, she felt differently.

The Scene: The second floor of my house
The Players: Do you need to ask?

Mom: Who are you going to cheer for in this game?! I don't know what to do?!

Me: I just want to watch a really good football game but, if you really want to cheer for someone; who do you hate less Urban Meyer or Nick Saban?

Mom: Ewwwwww, I can't pick that's a terrible question.

Me: OK, well, how much do you hate Tim Tebow?

Mom: I hope it is exposed that he is serial killer.

Me: ...Welp, I guess you're cheering for Alabama then....

That is an exact quote folks. If that's not hate, then frankley I don't know what is. She didn't even miss a beat. Just, BAM, serial killer. Then, this morning this little gem happened:

Mom: Urban Meyer was hospiltalized for dehydration because he cried so much last night! Hahahahahahahahahaha!

Me: Wait, what?

Mom: OK, I made the crying part up but he was treated for dehydration. But, the crying thing makes sense doesn't it? Hahahahahahahaha!

Me: Wait, what?

It's safe to say you can prepare for this to be updated after the bowl selection show. I can only imagine what kind of commentary is going to come out of that situation. If something goes horribly (horribly) awry and Florida goes to the National Championship, I'm pretty sure someone will turn into a serial killer and I'm guessing it won't be Tebow.

The Soccer Momification of K. Fahn, Part Deux!

So... I posted about turning into a soccer mom and then I posted about doing very anti-Biggest Loser things while watching The Biggest Loser. I didn't realize until today how not only is it very not Biggest Loser-esque making Martha Stewart No Bake Chocolate Peanut Butter Oat Bars, but how very motherly it is. Later today I decided, what the hell, why not really take things to the next level.

And by next level I of course mean crafting.

Yeah, please refer to this link. The project named Mom's Magnetic Board was the project I did today. Because I'm kind of like a 12 year old (really oxymoronic isn't it?) and moved home with my mom, I lost my very well decorated refrigerator in Philadelphia. I loved my refrigerator. I realize that a weird thing to take the time to decorate in your apartment is a fridge but it was my thing; let it go. Realizing I wouldn't have a fridge in my bedroom I decided the only logical step to hanging onto all my awesome magnets was a magnetic dry erase board. However, the idea of a stark white board hanging on my very grown up golden walls made me want to cry. Yes, this is seriously how my mind works.

A little bit of Googling and a serious trip to Michael's later I created my very own Mom's Magnetic Board. Albeit she's a little fancier and a little less embellished than the example but realizing the name of the project, well. I. Wanted. To. Die.

Turns out we have a theme for the week ladies and gentlemen. Kristen is becoming an adult. And by adult I of course mean, your dessert making, hockey team supporting, Crafty McCrafterson Mom.

I Watched The Biggest Loser Tonight...

...And made Martha Stewart's No Bake Peanut Butter Chocolate Oatmeal Bars while I watched.

I also opened a bottle of 2009 Beaujolais Nouveau. But don't worry. I only drank half of it....

Cheers to weight loss!

The Soccer Momification of K. Fahn

I didn’t realize that moving back to the suburbs would make me a soccer mom. Apparently, it has. Fast. Let me start with the outfit I ran my errands in this afternoon. It included but was not limited to a zip up hoodie (Lion Ambassador Homecoming 2k6 whattttt!), jeans, sneakers, (like serious gym sneakers, though I don't exactly use them for the gym) and my Orange Bowl 2k6 hat (really went with the Penn State theme today). It may not sound like anything out of the ordinary but once I got out on my way and saw how many people (and by people I of course mean mother’s with 2 year olds) I was dressed like, I. Was. Mortified. That is literally the uniform of young mothers everywhere just in case you were wondering.

My day started with a trip to the supermarket to pick up dinner for the next two nights. Because, of course, what good mom doesn’t have dinner planned for more than one night? (Skirt steak and pork tenderloin, BTW.) On the way home I stopped by the local high school to support the Varsity hockey team fundraiser by buying a few Chiavetta’s chicken dinners. Had my pre-purchased tickets from the kid down the street and everything. By the time I got home I felt like I had aged about 30 years. I mean who comes home with three nights of dinner including one purchased to raise money for new uniforms for a high school freaking hockey team?

The one redeeming thing about this little adventure into motherhood (aside from the fact that there was no actual child involved, Thank God) was my choice of music as I pulled into the parking lot of the high school. If you’ve ever heard the song Shots by LMFAO (featuring Lil' Jon), you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t heard it, it isn’t the type of music you want to be listening to as an adult pulling into buy chicken from a bunch of high schoolers and their parents. I realized perhaps I’m not as much like a mom as I feel if the first line of songs I’m listening to are, “Get ready to get f*cked up!” Don't worry, I turned it off as I actually handed the man my tickets and received my meals.

Ahhhh, feeling so my age right about now.