Annus Horribilis

Latin for "horrible year".

Also, the title of a speech given by Queen Elizabeth in 1992. 

And while it's safe to say that Liz's year at that time was arguably far worse than mine has been of late, I'm still commandeering the phrase for my own purposes. So there.

As you can tell through a simple comparison of dates, it's been almost a full year since I've blogged. My personal life took a fairly distinct sideways turn. 

Or several, as it were. 

(I'll address those in further detail in subsequent posts.)

As I bobbed and weaved and tried to get my life back on track, I fell away from writing for awhile. Partially because I was so busy. Partially because I didn't have the mental or emotional wherewithal to give it its due diligence. 

As time progressed, I eventually worked my way back toward writing. A bit of freelance here and there (time and exhaustion permitting). A bit of my personal WIP, more recently. But it wasn't until this past week that I felt ready to get back to blogging.

Probably sounds weird, right?

But writing is such a personal endeavor. It is something you pour your heart and soul (and a lot of caffeine) into. And with where I was at mentally and emotionally, I wasn't ready (or, honestly, willing) to open those gates again. First, because I didn't want my WIP to be associated with this tough time for me, risking tainting it with bad memories and negative emotions. And second, because blogging is so personal, and I needed to process my own crap before attempting to jauntily parlay that into a series of posts that didn't sound like they were written by a hyper-emotional Crazy Cat Lady with a twitchy eye.

So, eleven months later, here I am, bitches! Back and better than ever! Let's do this!

Like sands through the hourglass...

Yep, these are the days of our lives... The crazy, out of left field days of our lives.

So here's what's been going on. As you know, a little over a year ago, The Husband was offered an outstanding job opportunity here in Wyoming, resulting in our big move from the greater Seattle area to Cheyenne. However, after getting down here and getting settled, it quickly became clear that the job was not what we had been promised. In fact, The Husband had been bold-faced lied to about the job: its future, its duties, even its title.

Over the course of the past year, Hubs was put in charge of a project that was doomed from the start (when the management company includes a clause in their contract stating they do not have to finish the project if they don't want to, that should be a red flag, but Husband's company's CFO signed it anyway). Since then, they cycled through four different project managers (none of whom had previous PM experience), pushed back the project three separate times (it's now slated to go live a full year after its original date), and had the management company remove 80% of the original project items from scope. Husband was the only one at his company technically skilled enough to handle the demands of the project, and therefore more and more duties and responsibilities were dumped on his plate.

On top of that, continually more duties and responsibilities of his core job were piled on as well. It became the go-to to expect Hubs to 'handle it', even when the time constraints made it truly impossible to do so. As the expectations exponentially grew, so to did the lack of respect or appreciation (or even basic civility). Hubs became the fall guy for everyone else's issues (particularly when the Payroll Department didn't feel like doing their jobs). Hubs' manager did absolutely nothing to ease the situation, not even bothering to show up to meetings or update himself on the status of the project. All of the warnings Hubs gave regarding the quality, integrity, and success of the project were ignored, even when all of them came true. And still no willingness from Hubs' manager to give Hubs the job title, pay grade, or even public recognition and respect befitting his massive responsibilities.

Finally, the tinderbox erupted. It became clear that Hubs not only had no future growth within the company, but there was a chance he would be left holding the bag when the project inevitably failed and created a PR, logistical, and corporate nightmare. Hubs and I both reached out to our networks and pursued job opportunities for him, both here and back in Seattle. Some leads went nowhere. Others seemed promising but resulted in bupkis. After our hellish summer of family health crises and vehicular drama, we became all the more aware of our need for a reprieve. Mentally and emotionally, we both were exhausted, and put it out to the universe that hey, we need a break!

Well, be careful what you wish for, my lovelies, because apparently when it rains, it pours!

Last week, Husband received a call from a contact back in Seattle, offering him a job position. It wasn't an ideal position, but it would have afforded us the opportunity to get back to our home turf. Some negotiations still needed to take place, so we knew we had a few days before anything was final. However, we were given verbal confirmation on several occasions that yes, this was going to happen, without a doubt.

Well, yesterday we were supposed to have received the official job offer. By then, we had discussed the situation with our families and a few closest friends, and everyone was incredibly excited about the prospect of having us move back to Seattle. As we awaited the job offer, Hubs received another interesting phone call. A local job prospect that he had interviewed twice with and then didn't hear back from finally called. The president of the company wanted to interview him that afternoon! He went in, and 30 minutes later they offered him the job.

So, now we were facing two competing job offers: one that wasn't great but would have brought us back to Seattle, and one that would have kept us here in Cheyenne for the foreseeable future, but was an awesome career opportunity. It was a genuinely mind-boggling situation that we had never predicted having to face, and we were at a loss.

Cue the DEFCON 1 levels of stress.

Being the slightly OCD, anal-retentive, Type A person I am in a challenging situation, I proceeded to make in-depth pro-con lists. We then took the kids out to dinner, both to celebrate Hubs' new opportunities and imminent escape from his hellish job, as well as to inform the kids of the difficult decision we were facing and get their input.

(Oldest son wanted to go back to Seattle, daughter was good either way, and little guy was sad at leaving his best friend Percy Jackson...)

By the end of the evening, we had pretty much come to our decision, but were still awaiting the official job offer from Seattle. By this morning it still hadn't come, and we found out that the CFO and HR manager of that company had decided it would be more fiscally advantageous to stick with local candidates whom they could hire for much cheaper (because they notoriously pay below market whenever possible).

So that was that. The decision was made for us (though, in truth, it was the decision we were leaning toward anyway).

Hubs starts his new job the day after Labor Day, and it couldn't have come at a more perfect time!

Anniversary

One year ago today, we arrived here in Wyoming.

We had left Washington on the evening of July 6, 2013, and pulled into Cheyenne in the wee hours of July 9th.

Those first few days- hell, the first few hours, even- were a major struggle for me, as from the start, things did not go as planned and expected. I had just left a house that I loved, a town that I loved, and my family and closest friends, and was instantly regretting all of it. It honestly took me several weeks before I began reestablishing my grasp on why we had moved, and that it was in fact a good thing.

Those four months we lived in the apartment, waiting for our house to be finished, were tough. I physically hated living there, and the commute for my husband and children was brutal. After the house was done and we finally, officially moved up to Cheyenne, things began looking up.

The fluffy clouds of the High Plains

I loved our house, and the feeling of finally getting to be settled. I loved that the kids' school and Husband's work were now only minutes away instead of an hour. I loved that our lives were finally able to simplify, and we could begin establishing ourselves here.

Storm rolling in over the kids' school

There have been some hiccups, and some obstacles, and some what-the-hell-are-you-kidding-me moments. But overall, I can honestly say that I like living here (minus the wind, which is soul sucking).

But here's the thing.

Something that, despite my many attempts, I have been unable to successfully explain to many others in our lives.

On the one hand, I like it here. On the other hand, I would move back to Seattle tomorrow.

And yes, those two feelings can coexist.

While it was an emotional struggle for me at first, I fully understand why we moved here, and the benefits of doing so. I have adapted (mostly) to high plains living, and while there are some aspects of it I may not particularly care for, overall it's nice here.

Normal sunset views from my house!

I like exploring the area and seeing new things. The sunsets and sky-scapes are absolutely stunning. The slower pace of life and small-town feel is perfectly pleasant to me (except trying to get anywhere on Lincolnway anytime before 10 am, when the Blue Hair Brigade is out in force and going 20 mph below the speed limit!)

But here's the thing that people are having a hard time wrapping their heads around: I like it here, but I miss Seattle like crazy. It's not like living in Cheyenne is terrible, and I'm miserable and want out rightthissecond. I do, genuinely, like it here. But I don't love it here.

And that's the key.

Hello, gorgeous!

My heart and soul is in Seattle. In the trees and the mountains and the rivers and the ocean.

Mt. Pilchuck, my former backyard

Is anything better than a bonfire on the beach?!?

So beautiful, and so very missed

I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if we will stay in Cheyenne for five more months or five more years. But I do know that our time here is not permanent. Western Washington is a very special place, rich in a natural beauty that can't be matched. My soul is fed up there, and because of that, we will move back eventually.

It is possible to like where you are, but know you belong somewhere else. To be happy, but not fulfilled. That's where I'm at. And our calamity of a trip last week reaffirmed that to me. Driving across Snoqualmie Pass made my heart sing. And leaving made it sink.

I don't hate living in Wyoming, and I certainly don't regret moving here.

But home is where the heart is. And my heart is in Seattle

It's how I roll

You're welcome.

37 life lessons

Here is an article by Dawn Gluskin on 37 ways to live life to the fullest. I have to say, I love all of it!

Happy Monday

Thought I'd share this little gem. The Husband sent it to me in response to the crap I've had to deal with this past week. If only I could make stickers out of this and stick them to the foreheads of everyone who needs them! Talk about cathartic...

Happy Birthday?

So…. My birthday is just days away.

The big 3-0.

I've got to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Leading up until now, I was totally stoked. A new decade is always exciting, and maybe once I'm in my 30s I will start feeling like an actual grown up.

(Probably not. But it's a distant hope.)

But now that I'm standing on the precipice, I've become a little afraid of jumping.

I'm not sure why exactly. I'm not one of those girls who thinks it's all down hill after your 20s. I'm not yet worried about crow's feet or frown lines or what have you. I still feel young and vibrant (if not a little tired right now because life has been hectic).

I think my hesitation with 30 is that, for one, I feel like time is flying by at lightening speeds, and it's making me a little panicky. I don't want to miss anything. I don't want to look back and wonder where my life went. I want to experience and enjoy and appreciate where I'm at and what I'm doing. I want to live in the now with gratitude and an open heart, and sometimes I feel like time is going by too quickly to do that. And so the "holy crap I'm 30" concept is a little shocking in that manner.

Also, in keeping with the I-hope-I-feel-like-a-grown-up mentality, turning 30 has left me grappling with some, shall we say, "life choices". Apparently in your 30s is when you become fully aware and confident in who you are, and I feel like I have a pretty good grasp on that. But sometimes, being true to yourself leads to some uncomfortable encounters. And then that discomfort makes me second-guess myself. And then I feel like an uncertain kid again, instead of the rather fabulous almost-30-year-old that I am.

For one, as you know we just recently moved to Wyoming. Coming from the greater Seattle area, this has been quite a shock to the system! Recently, I've experienced some unpleasantness from a few of the local residents, and the only explanation I can come up with is my bumper stickers. They are, admittedly, fairly liberal. And the reactions I've received from some people? Alarming. I know who I am and I know what I believe in and why, and yet this unpleasantness has led me to question myself. Should I remove the bumper stickers? Should I try to blend in more in this extremely red state? Or should I face the discomfort and be myself, knowing that while it may make a few enemies, it will also allow me to make genuine friends, rather than friends with whom I cannot be myself.

Secondly, earlier this week I found myself in a really upsetting situation. Without getting too into the details, the basic gist is that I had to inform a close relative (the only one in this town) that I was uncomfortable with her on-off boyfriend coming over for Thanksgiving. There is a whole myriad of reasons, but it boils down to feeling uneasy with his unpredictable, unsavory, immature, and quite frankly, unsafe behavior. If you are incapable of being sober… ever… you're not welcome in my home and around my children. Especially after his most recent bout of asshole-itude. She may be willing to put up with it, but I'm not, nor do I have to. So a initiated the awkward conversation knowing that it would be uncomfortable, and possibly unpleasant. But I had no idea what it would turn into.

Suffice it to say, it was not pretty. There was no conversation, no discussion. She reacted instantly, and harshly. I was completely caught off guard. She said some incredibly awful things to me. She basically text-bombed me for almost three hours straight, taking every pot shot and low blow she could come up with, leaving me shaking and in tears. She then basically divorced me and my family.

All because I was honest with my feelings, and with what I was comfortable with in my home. Something I had every right to express. I was not mean, I did not call names or defame anyone's character (unlike her). I simply explained delicately, calmly, and rationally how I felt and why.

And apparently in her world, that means I'm incapable of love and an awful, heartless person.

Once again, I began questioning myself. Should I have said anything at all? Should I have kept my discomfort with her loser boyfriend to myself and just smiled and played nice, even if it meant ruining my Thanksgiving and exposing my children to potentially unpleasant or unsafe circumstances? Was I justified in expressing my feelings?

Having gained a little bit of time and clarity between now and the initial encounter, I do feel I did the right thing. I had to be true to myself, even though it produced an unexpected and unfortunate outcome. What kills me the most is that 1) I've been the one who's been there for her, supported her, rescued her, and stood up for her, and to have her forget that and turn on me so quickly stung, and 2) my children adore her, yet she is totally willing to write them off.

So, lesson learned.

Doing what is right for you is not always about doing what is easy. I guess this is all part and parcel of being a grown up?

Welcome to 30! Be prepared to know who you are. And to have people hate you for it.

Never work with animals or children

So this week has been… hectic.

And we're only half way through.

HUMP DAY!!! Woot woot!

I love that commercial. It never fails to make me giggle hysterically.

Anyhoodle, as I've mentioned before, I'm severely lacking in the motivation department with regards to school. Half way through week 2, and it's not getting much better.

Part of it stems from the fact that we are supposed to hear back from the underwriter today on whether or not our docs are approved. While she said that everything should be fine, and despite the fact that our credit is really good and we have a substantial down payment and we've given them every single piece of OCD-level documentation they've asked for (I'm almost expecting a request for organ tissue samples at this point), I'm still nervous. Because you never know.

The other part of my distraction stems from the fact that it is uncomfortable for me to type, properly hold a text book, or basically function like a regular human being on account of the vicious assault I suffered Monday night.

Yes, it hurt. And yes, I have a forearm tattoo. It's Anglo-Saxon and Norse runes. It translates into "Fate is wholly inexorable". 

Yeah. Courtesy of my cat. Little bastard.

So, I mentioned before about how he is a Long-Haired Asian, and so without regular trimmings, he can sometimes get poop on himself if he doesn't position himself properly in the litter box. It's gross, but it's something I just know will occasionally happen.

Well, it happened again Monday night. He just got a little bit on himself; better than usual, no biggie right? 

Wrong.

So wrong.

I'm right in the middle of making dinner when this happens, so of course it was super awesome timing.

So I stop what I'm doing, carry him to the bathroom, and clean his bum fir with baby wipes. I then discover he had also gotten some on his tummy as well, probably while attempting to clean the first mess. It becomes clear that he just needs a bath; baby wipes won't be enough in this situation.

We confine him to the bathroom while we eat, and then I start gathering the supplies for bath time. 

Well my daughter accidentally let the cat out of the bathroom at this point, and seeing as how he was already stressed about me cleaning him and pissed that I locked him in the bathroom when there was food smells he desperately needed to investigate, he bolted into the bedroom and tried to hide under my daughter's bed. I grabbed him and gingerly carried him back out, trying not to touch the still-stinky parts of his tummy.

And this is when he flipped the eff out and ripped my arm open*.

Let me tell you, it hurt. A lot.

And it bled. A lot.

To the point that I had to bust out the family pack of paper towels because the first-aid kit was too far away.

So I clean my arm and wrap it in gauze, and The Husband taped me up, and we proceeded to trim the cat's excessive fur and give him a good bath.

It didn't go well.

Lots of growling and angry mewing and escape attempts.

And of course, being that I was newly injured, I was only slightly helpful in the whole process. And a little jumpy about more potential attacks.

But we got him clean, we got him somewhat trimmed, and I kept my distance from him for the rest of the night.

All I can say is he's lucky I am morally opposed to de-clawing and find it utterly cruel; and he's lucky that I understand he was stressed and pissed about being cleaned; and he's lucky I understand that he hates being in the confined space of an apartment. He never used to act like this in our old house, so once we're in the new house (knock on wood) I'm hoping his attitude gets better.

Post-bath look of shame… or hatred...

Cute, fluffy, evil bastard.

*You know my priorities are a little screwy when my first thought was not "oh crap I'm bleeding profusely", it was "oh no my tattoo!"

Good news Thursday

That's an understatement!

Sweet Baby Jesus, today has been a good day. I feel a little uncomfortable getting too excited about it, because I have that superstitious side of my brain that feels like if you openly acknowledge something good, then it will end up going away.

But after such a long string of struggles and obstacles and bad news and letdowns, today was a breath of fresh air.

So first of all, our new mortgage guy did our official credit pull yesterday in order to start our financing paperwork. I was a little nervous, because he said he would call us first thing this morning to give us the update on it, and he didn't call...

But it turns out that he was just busy with a couple of closings today. Phew!

The Husband spoke with him early this afternoon, and our credit is... well... quite wonderful! Not only did our scores jump up fairly significantly since the first mortgage guy pulled our credit in May, but that stupid credit reporting that gave us so much grief a couple weeks back is GONE BABY GONE!

My guess is it fell off due to its age.

You know, just like it was supposed to. Just like we told the previous mortgage guy it was supposed to. Just like we told the collections company itself that it was supposed to.

So suck it, Alaska!

Muhaha.

I think they already did...

So the new mortgage guy has several more closings tomorrow (lucky bastards), so it looks like we will have to wait until next week to sign our disclosures and lock in an interest rate. But our paperwork is good to go. Which is an indescribable relief.

Then after that little tidbit of fabulous news, I spoke with our builder. I had been trying to get in touch with her to see if she had ordered the carpet we picked out last week, and she's a tough lady to get ahold of. But I did, and while she hasn't ordered the carpet yet (apparently she's doing it tomorrow), everything else is ordered and we are totally on track to be done by the end of October!

She also said that the only potential snafu is the well. The well water has to pass very strict regulations (apparently some of the strictest in the country... which I guess is good for water quality) and it takes at least two weeks to complete the process. If they pass the first test, we're good to go. If they don't, however, it can be as long as six more weeks to get it re-tested.

It's like a government regulated Punxsutawney Phil.

Anyway, if the well fails, that pushes back our closing date several weeks, which sucks in an unbelievable way and totally screws us over.

BUT!!!

Being the blessed soul that she is (or decided to be today, anyway), our builder said that in the unlikely chance that the well fails the particulates test and has to be retested, we can go ahead and still move in and just wait until our new closing date! She knows had badly we hate our apartment and how badly we want to be in the house, and I guess she felt sorry enough for us to grant us early occupancy.

And I'm more than willing to take her pity if it means getting in my house on time! So that was excellent to hear.

And then, to make a good day even better, we found out that The Husband is getting a 2% raise! I mean, nothing life changing by any means, but more is more, and we're more than happy to take it!

So, like I said, today was a good day.

There isn't enough caffeine in the world...

Life has been a bit... stressful... over the last couple of weeks. And this week it's going to get a whole lot more so (but in more of a good way).

So I mentioned about a week and a half ago about the absolute shit day I was having. I'd been feeling ill, our apartment had come under assault by a airborne chunk of concrete, and then to top it all off, it was looking like our mortgage was going to fall through because of some stupid seven-and-a-half-year-old medical debt that was less than half of a percentage of the purchase price of the house we are building.

We have also disputed this debt in the past, the credit bureaus themselves have disputed the debt, and I also have a payment stub from seven years ago showing that one of the debts they have listed was already paid in full! So clearly things are not on the up and up.

We tried contacting the company holding the debt, and they were, well, awful, to put it mildly. They not only wanted the entire amount of the debt listed (despite the fact that part of it was paid years ago and the credit bureaus dispute that rest is even ours), but they also wanted to tack on other debt that they claimed they had of ours (even though it didn't show up on our credit and they admitted they couldn't prove it was ours in the first place). On top of that, they refused to give us anything in writing saying the debt would have been paid off and they refused to remove it from our credit even if we paid the entire amount of NOT OUR debt.

Shady, shady, shady.

We actually looked up this company, and apparently, this is what they do. They have been sued many times because of it. They buy old debts from other, more legit collection companies, they pool the debts into one big group, then assign them randomly to people. They don't actually pay off the debts with the money they collect, they don't follow collection regulations, and the fact that they are still in business is mind-boggling to me.

So we called the mortgage guy we had been working with and told him what was going on, thinking he would be understanding and be willing to work around this hiccup. Especially since we have such a large down payment ready to go.

Nope.

He refused to move forward on our mortgage without that final debt being removed from our credit. Never mind the fact that it is over seven years old and shouldn't even be on our credit anymore anyway. Never mind the fact that I had records of paying the debt they were claiming we owed. Never mind the fact that we had records of the credit bureaus trying to remove this debt from our credit and this company refusing. And never mind the fact that this company is involved in illegal collection practices, hadn't contacted us over these supposedly important debts, and the amount they claimed we owed would have in no way impacted our ability to pay our bills.

Dude was just an ass. Plain and simple.

So after a day or two of feeling really down, watching our dreams crumble over something that should never have been an issue in the first place (I mean, we already bought one house for crissake, and this debt would have been on there then, and it didn't matter!), we decided to rally.

I'm not a quitter. I never have been.

If there is a way to make it work, by God I'm going to find it.

So I did!

We contacted our previous mortgage broker in Washington and explained the situation to him, and he actually laughed out loud at how ridiculous it all was! He said that no, this debt should never have mattered in the first place, given its age AND the documented history of trying to address it. He said that any mortgage broker worth their salt knows that this particular collection agency is a total scam and is generally just ignored. He said that if he were our broker, he could 99.99% guarantee us the mortgage.

Unfortunately, he's not licensed in Wyoming.

Le sigh.

But we found someone in the same parent company that is! And he also thought the crap we had been put through was insane. And he also guaranteed us it wouldn't be an issue and that he could get the mortgage through underwriting without a hitch. And he said that given how good our credit is, we qualify for the best government loans available, which means lower interest rates, which is pretty sweet.

So we are back on track.

We fired the douchebag mortgage guy, and our real estate agent, Mike, has even ceased recommending people to him because of all this. Mike said this guy used to be really good and go out of his way for his mortgage customers, but lately he's been all about the money, charging higher interest rates for no reason other than the added profit, not being willing to work around any hiccup in someone's credit (even though almost all people have a hiccup or two), not answering or returning phone calls, and just being an arrogant jerk in general. Mike said our situation with him was the last straw. If this guy wasn't even able to help someone with as good of credit and as much of a down payment as we have, he doesn't deserve Mike's business.

I concur!

So we got that settled. I will still be a little nervous, because nothing is ever certain until it is complete. So until we have signed papers and have those keys in our hands, I'll be a little antsy. But we can resume being excited about our house. And that's a good feeling.

So that was why the past couple of weeks have been stressful.

This coming week is a whole other, albeit more tolerable, ball game.

The kids start school on Tuesday. They will be attending the school that is just down the road from our future house, which will be super convenient once we're living there.

Until then, however? Logistical nightmare.

Right now we live almost an hour away. And we have to plan for morning traffic heading north. The plan for the next couple of months is for The Husband to take the kids to school on his way to work, and then pick them up after school and bring them home when he's done. The hour and a half between school getting out and Husband's work being done, the kids will hang out in his office and do homework.

This is the most sensible plan, though it isn't the most desirable. We decided it doesn't make sense for both of us to be driving back and forth from Fort Collins to Cheyenne every day. The gas budget would absolutely explode!!!

BUT...

This week? The Husband is in meetings all week for a huge conversion they're working on at the hospital.

Which means that I have to take the kids and pick them up all week. I was originally planning on going for the open house and the first day of school, obviously, but now it's an all week thing. And I weep for my gas consumption!

We decided that I'd just plan ahead, bring snacks and toys and all the necessary provisions, and we'd all drive together in the morning, drop The Husband off at work on the way to the school, and then me and Monkey would just hang out in Cheyenne all day.

All. Freaking. Day.

Cheyenne's great and all. But there's only so much to do! And I'll have eight hours every day to kill. I think we will be spending a lot of time at the many parks in town.

BUT!

The trusses for the roof of our house began going up on Friday! Which means the framing will be done very shortly! Which means we will get to meet with the builder to do our framing walk through and pick out everything for the house!

Cabinets. Countertops. Flooring. Finishes. Appliances.

I'm hoping we will get to do that this week.

Because, really?!? Otherwise it's going to be a long, boring week...

Apparently Louis C.K. hasn't spend much time in Cheyenne...

Weight loss and diet nonsense

Just wanted to share this woman's blog post- an open apology to all her previous weight loss clients.

It's really quite powerful.

Our focus on physical perfection takes its toll. It is unhealthy, both physically and mentally. It has become "normal" to have disordered eating habits, a disordered body image, a disordered life.

And it needs to stop.

Society needs a gut check. Or a reality check.

It really is as simple as eating real, natural, wholesome foods, being active, and letting the rest go.

Perfection does not exist, nor is it attainable. But what is easily attainable is your perfection.

Just be you. Be healthy. Live your life.

And for goodness sake, stop comparing yourself to other people. It's hard, yes. But no good ever comes from it.

You are exactly who and what you are supposed to be. So be you to the fullest.

Spontaneous Saturday

So yesterday began as any old "I have this to do" day, but turned into quite a fun family day.

Spontaneity. It's a good thing.

Starting out, I had planned to go hit up the paint store and grab some paint chips in order to get an idea of which colors we liked and what would go well with the carpet and flooring we had picked out earlier in the week.

However, that got more complicated when we swung by Home Depot first and ended up changing our minds regarding the carpet choice and the potential flooring choice.

Sigh.

Too. Many. Choices.

We actually found a carpet we liked better- a couple shades darker, more plush, still well within budget. So that was good.

But in finding that, I began to question our flooring choice. Was it too dark? Did it have too much red in it? Would it clash with our potential cabinet choices (to be determined in about a week and a half)?

So we headed back to the wood flooring and began hemming and hawing over the bajillion options.

We left with about six or seven samples, because we couldn't decide...

We then swung by the Sherwin Williams store, and my brain momentarily broke. When you find yourself standing in front of an entire wall of paint chips, it's like your brain just goes "NOPE!"

We laid out the carpet and flooring samples, and then began pulling colors and holding them against our flooring choices. Right away we were able to remove three of the flooring choices from the running. Away from the artificial light of Home Depot, we realized that two of our samples were way too light and one was way too yellow.

So that narrowed it down.

We then just sort of went with our gut and picked out colors that we knew would go with our existing furniture and decor. Back at our old house in Washington, I had been planning on painting the main walls a toasted almond color, with an accent wall in a rich, deep red. So, lacking creativity, we went with that same game plan for the house down here.

Stick with what you know, I guess.

The colors we chose also look good with the carpet choice, as well as the four remaining floor samples that we are still debating on. After the house is framed- which should be this week, weather permitting- we are going to meet with the builder and the cabinet guy and pick out the cabinets, countertops, and tile. That will help us choose a wood flooring that looks good with it all, and then we will be able to get everything ordered and have accomplished a huge chunk of the To Do list.

Phew...

So after settling on the paint colors, we decided to head up the road and explore Old Town Fort Collins.

It's so cute!!!

Apparently, the main thoroughfare was the inspiration for Disneyland's Mainstreet USA.

Yeah, that's how cute it is.

Right?!?

Tree-lined streets. Cafes, bistros, art installations, super cute boutiques, yummy restaurants, street performers, hippies, tourists, families. It's a fun mish-mash of all walks of life, all forms of expression, and a fun dose of Americana.

It was quite lovely to stroll along the streets, window shopping, actual shopping, and people-watching.

It reminded me of my favorite city of all- Nelson, B.C.

God I miss Nelson. Must plan a visit there in the near future.

So after our stroll through Old Town, we were headed back home when I spontaneously decided to head out to Horsetooth Reservoir and Horsetooth Mountain Park instead.

So beautiful up there!

The red rocks and the green vegetation- stunning! And we were heading up there as the sun was starting to sink lower on the horizon, so the colors were amazing.

Not only did we find a new place to hike, we may have also found the site of our future cabin!

Troll'd

So an interesting thing just happened.

Something that I genuinely didn't think would ever happen on this blog, as my viewership is fairly small.

Out of the two blogs that I write, this one is by far the quieter one, only frequented a fraction of what my other, far more controversial blog is.

And yet, here we are, at a milestone....

...I received my first negative comment!!!

Yes, ladies and gents. Some random stranger decided they didn't like what I wrote and needed to say something rude about it.

The topic was regarding blogger Katie Vyktoriah and her recent experience with her son at Walmart. Apparently throwing a shout-out of support to a mother who experienced something unfortunate is suddenly worthy of verbal abuse and a personal attack.

Hmmm...

Well, okay. If you don't like that I gave this woman any attention at all, that's fine I guess.

But no, it doesn't mean that I am "scary gullible" or "willing to believe everything" I read.

Could this woman have made it up? Okay, sure, perhaps that's possible.

Do I agree with the fact that she didn't report the man or ask for help? No, I don't. Were that my child in the situation I would have made a much bigger stink about it and reported him to (at the very least) store management. After all, CCTV cameras are there for a reason.

However, regardless of if you agree with how she handled the situation or not (and even in the off chance that it never even happened), the very thought that things like this DO happen on a regular basis to people all over the country is disheartening, and that was the overarching issue in the situation- the general intolerance of those perceived to be different from ourselves.

And the fact that people like my little commenter decide that it is better to go after those who express opinions against ignorant acts of rudeness is also disheartening. I guess the bigger issue, in an overall sense, is that fact that people are incapable of having polite and civilized discourse, and instead feel the need to attack those they have differing opinions from.

But I'm not too fazed by it, because for one, I am perfectly comfortable with people having different opinions than mine (I encourage it, in fact, because a healthy debate is good for the soul), and for two, it is far too easy these days for people who hide behind a keyboard and post negative comments to perfect strangers.

So thank you for your input, my dear commenter, and thanks for helping me reach a blogging milestone. I appreciate your point of view, and I sincerely hope you have a pleasant day.

Showing 'em up, classical style

I just wanted to share this clip from Conan O'Brian. Retta was on, and was discussing, in an indirect way, the prejudice and stereotypes that come with being a black person listening to music with a heavy bass...

Hilarity (and amazing singing) ensues.

What are you willing to do?

So it has been an... interesting few days, to say the least.

Interesting mostly in a crawl-in-a-hole kind of way, but also a little bit in a good way too.

First, we went to visit the State Capitol last week, which was really cool. I plan on posting some of my pics once I finally get around to synching my phone. Clearly I'm totally on top of that... or not.

Anyway, I had never been to that kind of government building before, and the history/political geek in me was in absolute heaven! Beautiful building, cool history, good times.

Front grounds of the Capitol Building

Main Capitol rotunda. So beautiful!

The view from Capitol Street

After the visit to the Capitol, we drove out to where our property is to meet the builders and go over some specifics for our house. In a way it was good, because we finally got moving on all that stuff (they broke ground the next day) and we finally started feeling like progress was being made. On the other hand, we realized that the timeline our agent had given us was not realistic, and that we will likely not be in the house before the lease ends on this apartment. That means that we will probably have to pay more rent (on an apartment we barely like to begin with), and that we will also be cutting it close to have Thanksgiving in our new home. Sigh...

But oh well! At least it means being in a brand new dream home, right?

Well we thought so.

Until Friday.

We had an appointment to meet with a notary public and close on the sale of our Washington house. We were super excited until we started signing the docs, and saw that we would only be getting back half- yes, HALF- of what we had been told.

*cue the panic*

See, even though we knew we weren't going to be pulling in a huge profit on the sale of our house- after all, we had only owned it for 21 months- we were expecting to get back a fairly decent amount, and had based our purchase of the house and land here in Wyoming on that money. We were going to use it as a chunk of the down payment. Without that money, suddenly our down payment, and therefore the house itself, was in jeopardy.

We went from picking out features of our house to watching our dreams crumble in less than a week.

Needless to say Friday was a bad day. Bad, bad, bad day.

Major suckitude.

And lots of tears (on my part, obviously).

Saturday we nursed our emotional wounds. We went up to Cheyenne to celebrate my son's birthday. It was nice to get out of the apartment and put the whole down payment debacle out of our minds for a few hours. We let our son pick out what he wanted to do, and so the plan was to go to the Wyoming State Museum, go to the botanical gardens and outdoor children's museum/water park, eat dinner at Red Lobster (his favorite!), and then go to another park and open presents and have cake.

However, on the drive up to Cheyenne, several emergency broadcasts came on the radio announcing severe thunder storms, rain, hail, lightening strikes, and flash flood warnings for northern Colorado, the foothills, and the Cheyenne area.

That essentially cancelled all of our outdoor plans!

We hit up the museum, then went to dinner and opened presents. We decided to do the botanical gardens and children's museum/water park another day, and we're going to have my aunt and cousins over tomorrow (his actual birthday) for cake and more presents. It didn't go as planned, but it was still fun, and he enjoyed it, which is all that matters.

After dinner, we decided to drive out to our property, kind of as a motivation/inspiration thing. It was amazing how far they've already gotten! The entire basement is almost dug up, and it looks like they'll be ready to pour the foundation pretty soon.

Seeing it in person, seeing the dream start coming to life, made us determined to make it work, even with the lesser profit amount we have to work with. We started crunching numbers, and it looks like we may be able to squeak it out after all.

Hopefully.

We decided that it basically comes down to this: How hard are you willing to fight for your dreams?

Me? I'm not giving up yet.