Tuesday, March 26, 2013

I wrote a book!

If you haven't been following my new blog (which wouldn't surprise me, since I think there are only four or five of you over there, total), I thought I'd let you all know that I finally finished the "How I Met My Hubby" story and turned it into a book! 

Yes, that's right, I wrote a whole book.  If you liked that post and didn't want it to end, go here to learn how to buy a copy. 

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Just in case you missed it...

I started a new blog.


This is your last warning, so I suggest you get your butt on over there right now if you don't want to miss out.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

New blog

I started a new blog.  If any of you would like to read it, then follow me on over to Whatever.

Monday, August 20, 2012

That's all she wrote.

I'm 33 now, and I never intended to continue writing this blog beyond the age of 31.  I've had a good run and it's time to move on.

I won't delete Year 31, but this will be my last post.  I won't respond to comments anymore, but you can email me at yearthirtyone [at] gmail.com if you really need to talk to me--or if you just want to say hello.

It's time to get busy living or get busy dying.

Thank you for reading.


Teri  :)

Monday, August 13, 2012

All my clothes are dirty.

Apparently, I learned nothing from the DIY Caulk Disaster of 2010.

The washing machine in this rental house has been broken ever since we moved in.

At first, it wouldn't drain, so every time I'd go to empty a load of laundry, I'd stick my hand directly into a giant puddle of clothes water.  Ick.

Then, The Hubby and I thought it would be smart to stack the washer on top of the dryer, and just let gravity do its job.  A washer that's not completely drained of water is VERY VERY heavy, but we got it up there eventually.  We used it like that for a few days, until I realized that the washer was not holding water at all.  In fact, the water just kept flowing and flowing.  At one point, I went down to the basement to check on the laundry after about an hour, and it was still "filling" for the first wash cycle.  Because it wasn't holding water, the sensor never told it to stop filling.

Side note:  A water company man came out soon after and changed our meter, saying that there was something wrong with the reading because it was astronomical.  I'm hoping this was a coincidence.

Since we'd just moved and couldn't really afford a big repair bill, I made do.  How is that done, you ask?  Well, I stood in the basement with the washing machine, held the drain pipe up while it filled and during the whole wash cycle, manually moved the cycle to rinse, held the pipe up some more, then let it down at the end.  I would not recommend this to anyone, but it did help to tone my flabby arm muscles.

I quickly developed a strong hate/hate relationship with my washing machine and I tweeted as much.  Believe it or not, the washing machine replied:

I knew it.  I apologize for his dirty mouth, but what else would you expect from Satan?

As the weeks wore on, my laundry piled up and I knew that I had to do something more permanent about my appliance situation.

Google to the rescue!!

...but really, when does that ever work out?  Google helpfully suggested that there may be a sock or a ball of lint stuck in the drainage pipe, so we should check it out.  The screws on the back of the machine were stripped, but we removed every last one of them after an hour and an endless amount of frustration.  When we finally got the hoses off (SO HARD TO DO), we found nothing in them but some dirty old water and a little slime.  Gross.

Finally, I convinced The Hubby to read over the lease.  That's when he discovered that, YES, our landlord IS responsible for upkeep on all appliances.  I TOLD HIM THAT A MONTH AGO BUT HE DIDN'T BELIEVE ME.  He thought he remembered the landlord saying something about him leaving the washer/dryer, but we'd have to fix it if it was broken.  He was wrong.

I was furious.  This whole dang thing could have been avoided.  We called the landlord on a Friday night and he called the repairman, who couldn't make it here until today (Monday).  The Kid is currently wearing his last pair of clean shorts, which happen to be Super Mario Brothers swim trunks.

When the repairman finally got here, he was none too pleased with our handiwork.  Apparently, the reason those hoses were so hard to remove is that they aren't supposed to be removed.  Ever.  He also said that we weren't supposed to have taken off the back, since the whole thing could have been done through an easily removable front panel.  Oops.

In the end, the angry repairman concluded that we need a new pump.  Unfortunately, he had to special order it, so he'll be back in a few days with the (hopeful) solution to our problems.

Instead of dwelling on who's to blame (THE HUBBY) for The Kid wearing swim trunks for the past four days, let's see if we can all learn a lesson from this.  In case you didn't get the gist of my story, I created this handy dandy flowchart, fittingly titled "Should I Repair My Own Broken Appliance?":
Click on it.  It'll get bigger.
I only hope that, with this flowchart, I can keep some poor soul from making the same mistakes I made. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go finish hand washing a load of colors in the bathtub.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Hunting Miley

Miley Cyrus is like a cable guy:  when you're looking for her, she's nowhere to be found, and then she pops up when you're unprepared and your 12-year old niece is nine miles away.

Okay, maybe that analogy doesn't really work, but I'm tired.

My niece (12) and nephew (8) left today after a three-day visit from Missouri.  The Hubby and I had a grand time as tour guides, and I have the blisters on my feet to prove it.  We showed them the sites, fed them the local foods, took them to the beach, and got them autographs from a famous football player.

All that, and I still feel like a failure of an aunt.  Why, you ask?  Because I couldn't deliver on the one thing that my niece, Kaytlin, was REALLY hoping for while she was here:  a Miley Cyrus sighting.

Miley is in town with her fiancee Liam Hemsworth while he's shooting a movie.  Kaytlin is Miley's number one fan--or at least in the top 100.  She doesn't wear Miley's face on her t-shirts or anything, but she does know all of her songs by heart, has seen every episode of Hannah Montana, and owns all of her movies.  It felt like fate when their visits coincided, and I told Kaytlin that we'd try and arrange a chance meeting between the two.

People, please learn from my mistakes:  don't ever tell a teenage girl that her favorite actress/singer is in town.  It's a recipe for disappointment...and fatigue.

On Sunday, we divided up: the boys went to Penn's Landing, and the girls went walking.  We started at the river and made our way up South Street, then to Rittenhouse Square, shopping in stores that seemed Miley-esque and moseying around the park where I've heard she's been seen walking her dog.  There's a fine line between stalking (like the paparazzi) and hopeful loitering...and we were walking it for four hours.  Several miles and a sunburn later, we decided to call it a day and try again on Tuesday.

This was Sunday--that should have been us!  Maybe  we didn't dress weird enough.

Now, one of my favorite things about Kaytlin is that she's a very generous, appreciative girl.  Before she even got here, she had agreed to stay home with her brother and The Kid to babysit while The Hubby and I went out to dinner to celebrate our 11-year wedding anniversary.  Of course we took her up on it, and The Hubby made a reservation at an excellent restaurant in the same neighborhood where we'd been wandering around earlier in the day.

When we got there, we decided to have a drink at the bar and wait for a patio table to open up since it was such a gorgeous evening.  Not five minutes after we sat down, I turned around and who do you think was standing directly behind me, at the hostess stand?

Miley.  Freakin'  Cyrus. and Liam Hemsworth.

I was SO FRUSTRATED--there are no words.

Not five hours ago, Kaytlin and I were hanging out across the street from the restaurant.  Now that she was at home watching the kids, here was Miley Cyrus, standing ten feet away.  Out of all the hundreds (thousands?) of restaurants in this city, she just happened to show up in the same one I was in.  Really?


Not wanting to interrupt her dinner (or jeopardize mine by being thrown out), I concocted a plan.  Since we were going to be eating on a sidewalk table near the front door, we'd certainly see them leave.  Therefore, I wrote "hi Kaytlin!" on a cocktail napkin and planned to (very politely) ask Miley to hold it up while I took her picture.  Brilliant, right?

Only, she never came out the front door.  The pair left out the back, because there were two photographers staking out the front entrance.  I hate those photographers.

Just having dinner with Miley and Liam....technically.

We spent a few hours yesterday back at the park again, hoping to garner a photo or autograph, but to no avail.  I guess I wasted all of our celebrity-spotting luck.  We did get water ice, though, which was *almost* as good.

Even though Kaytlin didn't get to live out her dream, I think the experience brought us a little closer together.  She was really sweet and good-natured about the whole thing.  She hasn't even been gone for 24 hours and I miss her already.  Such a great kid.

Being in the same restaurant as Miley Cyrus also gave me a whole new appreciation for my privacy.  She can never enjoy dining on the patio at a restaurant on a beautiful evening.  Heck, she can't even dine in a restaurant in peace--I can't tell you how many times I heard the words "Miley Cyrus" being spoken in that two hours we were there.  How distracting would that be, to hear your name over and over, everywhere you go?  I get mad if my husband posts a picture that I TOOK to Facebook without my permission--being followed by paparazzi would be the seventh circle of hell for me.  I'm so happy I'm not famous.

Miley, if you're reading this, I hope you enjoyed your dinner that night and that you're enjoying your time in Philly.  I hope that everyone is being nice to you.  If you would like to turn one of your top 100 fans into the happiest girl alive, drop me an email.  I can hook you up.
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