Urban Chicken Coop

An Urban Chicken Coop

I know there's a urban chicken bandwagon right now,

but I am jumping on it.

Perhaps after the loft we'll have chickens...

the live in has already agreed.

Guatemala

Guatemala

{Lake Atitlan}

{via nunavut}

Gusto

Gusto

{In our mind, one of the yummiest restaurants in the world}

Cuba

Cuba
{fingers crossed this becomes possible}

{via Marcelo}

{via scaturchio}

A Wish List...

A wish list of sorts, coming to you daily

via photos.

First up...

An African Safari

{via Stefano}

A Sweet Idea

I fell in love with this idea spotted on project wedding. Clearly, I won’t be needing bridesmaid’s gifts in the future, but any special occasion will do. I also think this idea would be great using children’s books or cookbooks.

A Bumpy Flight

Did I ever tell you about our trip to Disneyland? Well, did I tell you about our flight down to Disneyland?

We were on this plane…

As soon as we saw this would be our plane the live in’s face said it all. It was a look of pain, anger, and humility…child, please*. I knew there was a 50/50 chance he would refuse to get on, and luckily this was the last flight of the day otherwise I don’t know if this story would have ended the same way.

It runs deep, his Orange does.

*Major bonus point if you get this reference.

Well, my friends, it’s 8pm and I have given up on packing.

I know my sister would not approve of my sparse suitcase,

but I know she wouldn’t be surprised either.

I have scheduled a few random posts while I am gone…

see you all in a few weeks.

xoxo,

erica

...

The D List

In a little over a day the live in and I will be peacing out to Portland and saying hello to France. I don’t think there is any way to fully express to you how ready we are to leave. It’s something intense.

Of course I will miss you, my friends, but there are quite a few things I will not miss while we are gone. Here they are:

• Our building’s maintenance women, Joan. I see her every morning as I leave for work and although she always manages just the slightest smile and wave, I know she is secretly judging me as I speed out of the parking garage with wet hair at already 15 minutes past 8am.
• The new friendly guy at VideoRama. I liked the silent, cool guy who used to hand out free tax advice and never smiled.
• Our dishwasher. I think its breaking.
• Our Quiznos. We are in a major fight and I hope this two week hiatus reminds them to not take me for granted.
• Our vacuum. It is broken.
• The TV.
• Watching people try to use the parking meters. I’ve seen it take up to 6 people before one car was fully paid for. I have also seen it take up to 6 people to figure out where to put the parking sticker once paid for. Hint: follow the directions, they won’t mislead you.
• The Toyota Prius. You really have to pay attention when crossing the street these days; they’ll sneak right up on you. It should be considered the new silent killer.

Almost Here...

When we hear phrases like, “you’re turning into your mother” or “you used to be so different” we often cringe. Not because our mothers are un-cool {in fact, Emily has a pretty rad mom} or because we feel like different is bad, but we cringe because there is change happening and often times we have no control over it.

Recently I have realized I fall into this category of wondering who I have become…

My friends, I am in love with OSU football. And it’s fierce. Two, three years ago I was going to games as a courtesy to the live in. I was bitter about waking up so early. I was in pain as the cold fall air flooded over me tailgate after tailgate. I {and I can’t believe I am saying this} never wanted us to go to a Bowl Game, as this would drag the season on even longer into winter. Today, I have turned into A MAN. Perhaps the live in has slowly been putting some sort of football love potion in my water? Or, perhaps, I have given in and realized just how sweet it is.

It was yesterday that I fully realized how head over heels I am. I was at work listening to a presentation of sorts when the next speaker was introduced…they ran through his bio…he was a USC graduate. Something came over me {probably the love potion} that made me yell out asking if he could “remember” this game. Who does that…and at work?

Needless to say, I can’t wait for September 5th. I have no issues with getting up early now, I crave tailgate food, and I need my AC/DC Thunderstruck as we roll into the 4th quarter. And above all, I am so grateful for our wonderful tailgate gang.

I don’t know who I have turned into but I can’t wait, Beaver Nation…can’t wait.


**Correction...it's not Thunderstruck in the 4th quarter, it's TNT. I am rather embarrassed by this little mistake as TNT IS my absolute fave. Beaver Nation, please forgive me.**

Don't Go Weekend, Don't Go!

Oh, weekend…must it be over?

We rocked our weekend. We have been planning it for weeks, and it did not disappoint. What did we do, you ask? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And, believe it or not, it actually takes a teeny bit of planning to “do nothing”. Or, as a few of my friends put it, be “anti-social”.

Normally a doing nothing weekend gets ruined by one of us breaking our pact and either making plans or picking up the phone when a notorious dropper in-er calls. This weekend that was not the case. It was just us, Entourage, True Blood, and one huge pot of chicken noodle soup.

I hope your weekend was just as nice.

Text Etiquette 101

What’s the policy on stalking your own husband? I mean, technically it wouldn’t be so bad, right?

A couple of days ago we were waiting in line while the live in ordered coffee. He handed me his blackberry while he grabbed his wallet. Of course I looked through his messages – who wouldn’t? I came across a text that read, “we are totally pregnant :)”. Yes, you read right. We are totally pregnant, smiley face.

Who is the baby’s mama? Should I fight for the loft and the rental house in the divorce, or just the loft? How soon can I change my last name back? All reasonable questions, all running through my head.

After Matlock like questioning, turns out it was a mass text sent by an over eager co-worker who, after months of “trying”, is like a day pregnant. Perhaps she should take a class {led by me} on text etiquette? First order of business would be: drop the “we” from the message and insert “my husband and I”…otherwise, honey, you just come across as a hussy.

I guess I’ll put the stalking on hold for now. But, I’ll definitely be channeling Veronica Mars for the next nine to ten months…

7 Year Itch?

7 years ago yesterday, the live in and I were married. 7 years ago today, the live in and I were off to Greece. Yesterday the live in asked what I wanted to do to celebrate our anniversary. I told him I wanted to go back to Greece. He said he would take me to the Greek Cusina. Now that’s sweet.

I love my live in.

It’s funny because so much of what I write about on here is about him. Many of our real life friends now refer to him as the live in too. Although I have often questioned if I should be putting our private lives on the interweb for everyone to see {after all, I don’t want to get a Jon & Kate or a Nick & Jessica}, I am actually quite grateful for this forum. This blog has made me realize just how much fun we do have, how crazy rad our lives can be, and how much I truly love him.

Our relationship is far from perfect. But, it’s exactly what I would pick for myself if shopping for marriages were possible.

Thank you, my live in, thank you…and happy real anniversary.

{Ah, Greece}

No Secrets For Me

Yesterday I spent my lunch hour shopping, which was a much needed break from work; however I have since found myself with an unusual case of buyer’s remorse.

One of the stops I made was at Victoria’s Secret. I never shop here. Since I discovered Nordstrom lingerie and various dot com lingerie, Victoria’s Secret has been a thing of the past for me. Not sure why I went in, but I did. The first area of the store I came to, I loved. Everything was soft and comfortable looking. The colors were muted and sweet. Then I realized I was shopping in the equivalent of the “old lady section”. I wasn’t actually looking at lingerie, I was looking at nightgowns. My grandmother would have happily worn what I was looking at, and the only other ladies shopping in the section were at least 55 or older. I chalked this little mix up to low blood sugar and moved on.

I perused the store in its entirety and actually found a few things I liked. {And, they were age appropriate.} I walked away, hot pink bag in tow, feeling just fine. Until…I watched So You Think You Can Dance.

One of the dancers was wearing the “top” I had just bought. I kid you not. Sure, they removed a few of the bells and whistles from the original garment, but it was the.very.same.top. I feel like the store should have placed a sign over the outfit that read, “Will see dumbed down version of this very thing on national TV…tonight. Please cover your partner’s eyes.” But, they didn’t and now I have the be-dazzled hooker version of some dancing top.

Now I remember why I never shop at Victoria’s Secret…because everyone else does…including the cast of So You Think You Can Dance.

Love is Like Battleship

I am sure the award for “most delinquent blogger” is out there somewhere and is currently being engraved with my name on it. My apologies for the lack of real blogging lately. I have been busy trying to keep up with my live in husband…

Today the live in called from his office as he was re-programming his new blackberry. {For those keeping track the live in is now on blackberry number five. The last one fell victim to him accidentally leaving it in his pocket while rafting.} During this phone conversation he casually asks me what the electrical outlets look like in France. Like I have flashcards or something to identify every country’s outlets, why would I know this? I told him we have one at home and he can see it tonight. He then asked if I could look it up online. Remember, he is calling me from his office…where he has access to the same world wide web I do. I told him to look it up himself, to which he replied…and I quote…"because I am busy thinking.”

I could have gone so many directions with his reply. However, after nearly seven years in this Battleship like game I know to remain focused. The real question here is why he needed to know so bad? We are leaving for France in a few weeks, we have the outlet adapter at home, and the only thing he really needs to plug in is his iPod. And then, just like in Battleship, he makes a wrong move. He let it slip that he may have a connection to gain world access on his new blackberry. This is the hardest part for the live in…leaving his dear blackberry state side. I am sympathetic to his withdrawals; however world access is not in our travel vocabulary. This will not happen, or I can guarantee he will be on blackberry number six as his phone gets tossed into the Mediterranean by moi.

Truly, it’s for his own good.

This trip will be our longest ever. Which, in other words, means this trip will be the most the live in and his blackberry have ever been apart. Ever. I can already see him eagerly powering on in the Chicago airport as we return home…

Nice try, live in, nice try.

A Thank You Note

Dear Live in,
Thank you for asking me out on a noon time date today.

Please ask me out again.

Same lunch spot, per favore.

xoxo,

b

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