September 2009

Or, as the boyfriend calls it, an example of the Bro seeing how the other half lives (I think he means the non-athletes, but I will ask him to clarify).

My brother has decided that he wants to try and go to law school. To which I say: NOOOOOO!!!!! SAVE YOUR MONEY. ABORT. ABORT. ABORT. Awesome. Goals are good. Anyway, as such, he has decided to go out for Moot Court.

I got this text from him a short time ago as he attended the first meeting (All typos are his own) :

“im at the mock trial meeting and these kids are so obnoxiously nerdy. like they all keep talking about how many times theyve been to nationals for mock trial. i thought it was a club not a sport and theres tryouts. how do u try out for this?”

It is kind of adorable, no?


It is the boyfriend’s 31st birthday.

Happy birthday boyfriend!

It has been a LONG week. And a very hard week.

On Sunday, we found out that one of my brother’s friends committed suicide Saturday night. The wake was Tuesday so I drove down to Columbus and picked up my brother. He was/is a wreck. He kept asking me if they knew why his friend did it. There are no answers. And even if there were answers, there’s no good answer. The funeral was yesterday.

The whole thing is horrible and tragic. There are just no words.

About 2 weeks ago, the Madre and I were on the never-ending hunt for suits and stumbled upon this dress:


and, long story short, it fit like a glove, is gorgeous on (I tried to get a picture of me in it, but since I don’t have a full length mirror, you couldn’t get the full effect), and was on sale. Therefore, it came home with me. And even though I do love the dress I was going to wear to the boyfriend’s sister’s wedding, I realized that this would be absolutely perfect for the occasion.

Of course, new dress meant new shoes. The parentals and I went to Bar Symon (which, NOM) for dinner and decided to stop by DSW post-dinner where I found these:

0921092113I mean, how perfect are these? With the wee little bows and all? I am in love.

But that was not the question I wanted to put to you. The dilemma is this: So when I get to New York, I will be engaging in one of my favorite New York activities – a pedicure (How shallow am I? Don’t answer that). But what color should I go with? The Madre is of the opinion that a nice neutral is the way to go, whereas I was leaning towards a fire engine red. The question, of course, is whether fire engine red is appropriate for the bearer of gifts (with the secondary question being whether or not we care). What do you all think?

Also, just for fun, I will be wearing these to the rehearsal dinner. Of course this means that the boyfriend’s sister will probably come up to my shoulders at best, but whatever.


Oh Calvin Klein, I do heart you so.


“Moving A Queen Box Spring Up a Teeny-Tiny Extremely Narrow Set of Stairs That a Full Box Spring (the Bro’s) Just Barely Fit Up”

Subtitle 2:

“I Wanted A Hot Dog, Not A Hamburger”

Document1Mattress moving step twoMattress moving step three

The background you need here is that it was Zack’s (the Bro’s friend and the now former owner of the queen box spring) dad’s idea to break the box spring in the first place (and my dad went right along for the ride). The moms suggested things like, say, going to the Lowe’s 5 minutes away and buying a saw, but Zack’s dad saw no reason they couldn’t just snap it over the edge of the porch.

The hot dog vs. hamburger comment stemmed from the fact that Zack thought they were going to break the bed lengthwise. Instead, his dad broke it widthwise. Zack repeated this comment multiple times in varying tones of shock and disbelief. (The picture in the middle above is actually an attempt to break it lengthwise, after Zack’s dad and my dad had already broken it widthwise). What you can kind of see in the background of that picture is my dad, Zack’s dad, Zack’s mom, and my mom sitting on one edge of the box spring while Zack and my brother attempted to snap it again. The whole thing was, of course, awesome and hilarious and the highlight of moving day for me.

Which, just in case it was not clear, to update you all, I spent Wednesday in Columbus helping the parents and the Bro move into his house at Ohio State. Monday & Tuesday were spent getting ready for the move (note: Target furniture is kind of impossible and overly difficult to put together and, therefore, kind of sucks), which is why I have not yet written about the weekend. I’m going to IKEA tomorrow to get furniture for my as-yet-unselected apartment, but will try and update again sometime tomorrow night. We shall see. I may come home so enamored with my Hemnes that I will feel the urge to put it together immediately. To know Hemnes is to love Hemnes.

So I understand that road work must be done and that there’s probably not a good time to do it. However, it seems to me that a little research would have revealed that 11:00 pm on a Tuesday was not exactly the best time you could have picked because surely at, say, 3:00 am or something there wouldn’t be cars stopped for miles on end because of the work on 71.


It was like a parking lot as far as the eye could see (and I know this because about 30 minutes in, I stood up and looked out the sunroof. Because I have the patience of a small child). By that point, cars were off and people were out of their cars walking around. And you know it’s really bad when the truckers turn off their big-rigs, climb down, and are out bitching to each other about the massive delay socializing.

Also, I know this is a crappy picture, but that’s what happens when you combine crappy cell phone camera with no light because everyone has given up and turned off their headlights.

re: the spray painting project, the stuff looks great. Even better than I expected. If I had a before picture, I would certainly post an after for you to see. I may still if I get motivated to take one before/during/after the big move on Wednesday. So that was good.

However, despite many, many showers over the weekend and much scrubbing, I still appear to have a proliferation of shiny black freckles all over my right forearm, calves, and the top of my right foot.

As always, I remain, your multitalented, ever-so-special fifi.

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