I am deep in the midst of a home renovation. You see, Jason and I had a battle of wills and apparently my will was not strongest on this topic. I wanted to hire someone to do it. He wanted to do it himself. So he is. ‘What is it?’ you might ask. We’re in the middle of a Pergo floor laying down… thingie.

It all started innocently enough. We bought some samples.. selected the one we liked and then Lowes up and dumped that color. So we picked something else (and I’m happy with our selection) and then 29 boxes of it ended up in our basement. I’m not quite sure how he talked me into allowing us to do it, but we are.

Currently, most of the carpet is ripped up, some of the vinyl in the kitchen is ripped up and some of the floor is laid in the dining room/living room/never ending double wide hallway.

Thankfully a few of our close friends have volunteered to assist with the process (and they’ve done it before so they know what they’re doing!) and all should go smoothly.

I, however, will not participating much in this process. Oh sure, I removed staples from the subfloor and cut up some of the carpet but the actual laying of the Pergo? I want no part of that and the thought of it makes me semi anxious.

Thankfully, Jason agreed with me and has exiled me to the deck until further notice where I plan to create an oasis with the tropical plants I purchased at Home Depo this afternoon and as many margaritas as I can drink without throwing up. I figure if I’m drunk enough any mistake or mishap will roll off me like water on a duck.

I am truly in awe that Jason, who has never laid Pergo before, can read a few directions and can just start using power tools and saws and create a beautiful masterpiece. Everyone has limitations… and I know that I am not capable of doing what he’s undertaking. I work with mediums that I can easily correct; yarn and paint. If I fuck up some crochet or knitting I can (in most cases and with the assistance of experienced knitters!) undo what I fucked up and redo it correctly. With painting I just put more paint on the canvas until I see what it is I want to see. Doing things that are very final.. like cutting floor boards scares the dickens out of me.

I think it’s because I hate to mess up. I’m a Virgo.. I need order (at least an order that my mind calls order). I need exactness. I feel like I have to know exactly what it is I’m doing or I can’t do it unless I know I can pull a string or slap some more on to undo it.

I give kudos to those that are able to throw caution to the wind and live in the moment.

First I’d like to say that had February been a longer month, I probably would have found more time to post. I feel a lot like someone is playing tug of war with me and 2010 as it’s slipping by at an alarming rate. Today’s post will be very Februaryish even if I missed it by a few days though. I swear.

This past weekend Jason and I traveled to Minneapolis, MN to assist in the celebrating of a close friend’s birthday (Not just ANY old birthday, but I won’t give the number out lest he should hunt me down). One of the very first things we did once we arrived in town, aside from marvel at the fact that it was now snowing like crazy at home and warm (for February) in MN was visit the Mary Tyler Moore statue.

I used to watch the show on Nick at Night and I always enjoyed it. I loved Mary’s apartment and the way that none of her dinner parties ever went as they were supposed to because in real life how often does everything turn out ok? Sometimes your apartment gets robbed twice or your party ends in tears. It happens. I got to laugh along with them and cry along with them.

Once I’d seen it the theme song of course got stuck in my head. I’m still singing it today and it turned a light bulb of sorts on for me.

In the past month (the month of non existance) I’ve been unhappy, which probably contributed to the amount of blogging that I did. Or lack there of. Sure, I could have posted whiney melodramatic things about what I felt was wrong or I was unable to fix but that’s what I pay my friends to listen to in the privacy of my own living room. Or sometimes I tell the cats since they’re very good listeners. Most times though I just keep it to myself until I’ve divined some way to fix it before I bounce the crazy idea off someone else. I do this partly to make sure I’m not crazy and partly so I don’t do something I’ll regret if I haven’t really thought of all the possible outcomes. (And I wonder why I have trouble sleeping at night?)

I’ve made great strides for myself in the month of February, the first step being getting my hair cut. That might not seem like much of a big deal but I dread getting it done. I always long wistfully for something different, have no idea what I really want and end up getting the same old hair cut that I’ve been getting forever and then I repeat the process every 3-4 months. Not anymore. I went out on a rather shaky limb (all by my lonesome) and decided to make a leap of faith. Faith in the girl cutting my hair, faith that the haircut I selected would be flattering to me and faith that I could then recreate it at home. All I’ll say is that I wasn’t disappointed with any of the parties involved and the first time I did my hair in the morning and went to work (something I haven’t done every day since I got it cut because I’m still relatively lazy) I was met with rave reviews. The big scary huge change that I made for myself went swimmingly.

I also realized this past month that I’ve lived in my town for 10 years. That’s a decade. That’s a long ass time to live in the same place. At first I was really down on myself because what had I really accomplished in 10 years? I wasn’t so upset with where I’d gotten to I was more upset that I hadn’t gotten farther in that time. I’ve never been one to do anything spontaneously. I think things out. I look at every angle. I play it safe, I follow the rules. What accomplishments and unmet accomplishments and being spontaneous have to do with each other, I have no idea. But it was a freakout and I was going with it.

The desire to run, and just run as fast as I could was gripping me too. So I started to run (or well.. walk briskly and jog/run). 6 days out of 7 I am usually running 2.5 miles a day. It makes my legs ache, my feet ache and my knees ache and I love every second of it. I love the feeling of a stitch almost stabbing me in the side, I love the way my shirt clings to me after I work up a sweat and feel like I’ve done something. Mostly I love how alive I feel afterward.

I think in this last month I’ve learned to not be so overly critical of myself. Shit happens. Bad moods happen. Bitchiness happens. Mistakes are made. And I don’t care as much anymore. I’ve learned this month that when my friends need me, no matter what, I am able to be the kind of friend to them that I would want were I in their situation. Knowing that I can put the needs of people that I care about above my own has really helped me let go of a lot of my own perceived failures or mistakes. Maybe I’m not such a horrible excuse of a human being after all. Maybe I’m not so bad. Maybe those things that happened years ago that I wish so very desperately to redo don’t really matter as much as I thought they did because what really matters is right now. So what if I made the wrong choice X number of years ago? How am I dealing with the situation at hand.

And after this trip to Minnesota that was long over due I found out that the theme song is true. “Love is all around, no need to waste it. You can have the town, why don’t you take it?” The things that I want are out there. I can’t sit still and just wait for them to happen, I have to make them happen. I have to be the change I want to see. And the more I work to make them happen the more momentum I’ll have to make more happen.

I’m going to make it after all.

My last final (writing 4 500 word essays and a fun myth analysis) was completed yesterday afternoon. Today, I fear that my brain has begun to leak out of my ears. While trying to foward an email I sent it back to the person who had originally sent it out. So I sent them another email to tell them to ignore the message, I was trying to send it to someone else… and sent that one to myself.

I think it’d be a good idea if I did not opporate any heavy machinery, drive a motor vehicle, or do anything more strenuous than sit.

Yeesh.

I’m getting to that point in the semester where everything aside from assignments and deadlines become a blur. Or possibly a smudge. I’d love to say that I was as organized about life as I am about moving and Christmas spreadsheets, but clearly it’s not the case. I’m ok with this right now because I don’t have time to worry about what a horrible person it makes me. What I do have time for though, is some listy catching up.

1. I Got Better

After Cedar Point, and the sinus infection/ upper whatever I had, I was finally able to catch up on my sleep and recharge by doing absolutely nothing other than getting up, going to work, coming home and eating dinner and then heading directly to bed. I did not pass go. I did not collect $200. I went to sleep and such sweet, sweet sleep it was. It took me about 4 days to finally feel alive again and then eventually I was able to breath out of both nostrils like a normal human being. It was kind of neat.

2. My Heart Grew Three Sizes For The Wrong Holiday

I was adament that I was not going to hand out candy and if Jason wanted candy to be handed out he would be doing it all by his lonesome. I wanted nothing to do with little kids in costumes or standing at the door or figuring out how much to hand out and buying the good stuff and decorating outside or any of that stuff.

So naturally on Friday night I decided that I wanted to hand out candy, decorate outside and dress up. Jason Some would call it crazy making but I like to think that I keep things entertaining and lively. What will I do next? Even I don’t know!

We had bought some great outdoor decorations at Target on clearance last year when they were trying to make way for Christmas stuff and so we had some great light up fences and a “tree” (which was more like a little bare bush with lights) and a lamppost to decorate the out of doors.

My only dismay with this was that we got about 13 trick-or-treaters. That was it. The year before Jason stood at the door for a good 25 minutes and just handed out candy because we had a line. So we ended up with a huge tub full of candy (because we were going to have lots of kids!! must have candy! lots of it!!) that I keep staring at (because it’s staring at me) and then I sigh and pull out a piece of laffy taffy or a small pack of starbursts and continue on my way. I wish it would just disappear.

3. Oh How We Raked or Why I Don’t Have A Dog (And Yet I Kinda Do)

We had yet to begin our annual weekly raking of the leaves. As in the past, the neighbor’s in all surrounding houses in the county brought their leaves to our house and smoothed them out so it appeared that they all fell naturally so we had an extra deep pile to rake through.

It was nice to be outside though as the day was kind of warm and the raking wasn’t so awfully bad until I stepped in dog shit. That’s the only way I can describe it. It’s not feces. It’s definately not something as delicate or as humorous as doodie or poop. It’s plain, old unimaginative shit. And I believe that’s exactly what I proclaimed when my foot slid across the lawn. Not once, but twice.

If I had mean, evil neighbors I would totally be spiteful and hateful and probably have scraped it off on stick and then put it on their windshield so that they’d known that their dog has been to visit but I don’t. I love my neighbors. I couldn’t possibly ask for better ones. They keep to themselves. They say hello when they see us out. They’re not overly loud. They have a wonderful dog and some really awesome cats who come and sit on the deck or leave Jason dead mice as gifts. All in all it’s a wonderful experience and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. AND! I can’t even get angry that there was shit to step it. You couldn’t see it. The leaves were that thick.

So I calmly (and this surprised even me) went around to the side of the house and hosed myself off. What else was there to really do? No one wants shit shoes.

4. Faux Thanksgiving

My mother had been wanting to do a Thanksgiving dinner since September. And when I say Thanksgiving Dinner, I mean Thanksgiving Dinner. Turkey, cranberry sauce, yams, the whole nine yards. I ate entirely way too much, and walked off with left overs and pumpkin cheesecake. It was a win

 5.Tis The Season… Whatever That Means

A few weeks ago I was talking to Jason about decorating for Christmas. He’ll be leaving at the beginning of December to go home to Florida and I won’t be joining him until closer to Christmas. I’d be home all alone and would be the only one to really see the decorations so I had decided that I wasn’t going to put up the tree or decorate or anything because when we got home I’d just have to undo it all and why bother?

I think you can see where this is headed.

Something bit me earlier this week and now Christmas is all I can think about. I’ve been making a list, strategizing gift ideas, planning for the cookies that will need to be baked and sent with Jason to Florida and basically just going aboslutely crazy with the thought of decorating. I want to decorate. Oh so much. It’s all I can do to restrain myself doing it before Thanksgiving.

Everytime we go shopping I walk through the aisles that are bespeckled and sparkling with Christmas accoutrements and I bash in their shininess and absorb it like an ex smoker enhaling the second hand nicotine from the smoking section of a restaurant.

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And that brings us up to present. I’ve spared you all the boring parts like doing laundry or dishes or homework and I’ve probably forgotten some delightful adventure I’ve had in between all of that.. but that’s what I get for waiting so long to write about it.