Fancy Catch Up

Hoooo, boy. I’m suffering from a serious bout of “writer’s block.” I put that in quotations because I think it’s kind of silly to say that I can’t think of something like how a pillow with a mustache scares me to write about is actual writer’s block. I have Stupid Observation Worth Coming Up With Accompanying Dumb Words and Images Block.

So, while I suffer from the lack of things to point and laugh at, I guess I’ll fill you in on what I’ve been up to as a living human being.


On Monday, I was outside with my adorable 4 year old niece. She was on her scooter, having a good time. She reached a spot in the middle of the road that caught her eye. She called me over, “CARRIE! Come here! Come look at this! I want you to see something!”

Awww, I thought to myself, she must have found a caterpillar or a penny. It’s so sweet that she wants to share these little moments with me. I jogged up to the spot she was pointing at, and looked down. I didn’t really see anything.

“That’s where I threw up.”

It wasn’t where she had just thrown up, it was where she had thrown up some time in the past. I’m guessing there’s not a historical marker up yet because of the typical snails pace of the government.


We bought a house! And in even more amazing news: it’s within walking distance of the throw up spot!

It’s been a little crazy. It’s supposed to be a buyer’s market but there was another offer so we had to compete and negotiate and such. Tom said it kind of felt like the negotiation scene in Bad Santa (R.I.P. Bernie Mac and also there’s a lot of cursing):

It was stressful but worth it, I hope. We’ve been trying to sell our Atlanta house and move back up to N.C. for over four years, and I’m hoping as we settle in and I unpack boxes of things I haven’t seen in nearly half a decade – there will be at least one motherloving thing to write about in them. That’s what I’m hanging my hopes on these days.

Anyway, it’s a nice house, and we think we’ll be able to have a home theater, which is awesome.

And to be able to walk to that throw up spot and see it whenever we please? What a dream come true.

Any big news you’d like to share here in my comment section for some reason?

How Moving and Cat Poop are Related

We officially no longer live in our house. But, it’s still our house, which means we still have a mortgage. While our renters wait for their house to sell, and while they decide if they want to buy our house, we don’t have an official home. We’re staying with my mom while we wait for everything to straighten itself out. My mom is generous to have us and while I don’t mind being home-home, you still don’t want to be in your mid-thirties and living with your mom even though it makes the most sense and reduces the amount of times we have to move our stuff. I just don’t want to hate my stuff more than I already do.

I think one of the reasons cats have such a holier-than-thou attitude is because they've seen the way dogs react to their poop.

What does this have to do with cat poop? When you have cats AND dogs, you have to spend a surprising amount of time trying to figure out how to “protect” cat poop. If you have cats and dogs, you also probably know the term for cat poop that is used to describe a dog’s maddening love of it – Tootsie Rolls.

Every time you move with your dogs and cats you have to re-figure out how to keep those precious tootsie rolls from constant threat. I think it’s one of life’s strangest predicaments. For us, the solution usually involves a closet and a baby gate.

When we move, I forget about this predicament because we did a really good job of solving the problem in our previous abode, like when people let their guards down during times of peace. Of course, it’s only a matter of time (that amount of time is easily measurable – it is the exact amount of time it takes for the cat to take his first shit in the new house) before I’m reminded that a fortress must be built around the Kingdom of Litter.

Our dog Ed is a turd connoisseur. I think he was feral at some point, which probably started his terrible hunger for poo, as it may have been his available meals. If Pizza Hut sold a Turd Lover’s Pizza, he’d eat it every day. His favorite soup would be turdle soup. He’d be disappointed by a pu pu platter. We don’t let him pick what he has for dinner, is what I’m saying.

He has the well-earned nickname “Turd Burglar.” He’ll burgle turds at every opportunity. Turds tremble in fear when they sense he is near. Seriously, the dude loves turds. That’s why, when Tom wanted to practice on his new photo editing program, he chose to create this:

You may be a world-class turd burglar, Ed, but this time the local tootsie rolls will only have folklore legends to pass down from generation to generation. “Hair as orange as John Boehner’s skin and a collar as green as grass, and he’d just as soon eat you as look at you.”

Rest easy, sweet turds, you’re safe for now. Turds in the backyard, I’m afraid you’re on your own.

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Adding this post to the Yeah Write weekly challenge. I had a lot of fun last week reading new blogs. You can lurk, hangout, or enter a post in the weekly challenge, then vote for your 5 favorites. Go check it out.

If anyone in this house snaps, it’s best if it’s me.

Online chat I just had with Tom, we were previously discussing him working from home (it helps if you know the plot of The Shining):

me:  I’m not right in the head and I haven’t had coworkers for a while

Tom:  I have been waiting for you to chase me and the dogs through the hedge maze. Swinging Elliott* at us.

me:  I don’t have the energy. I’m a boring insane person

Tom:  Ghosts constantly nagging you to kill us all. “Eh, maybe I’ll do it later.” There’s a post there somewhere.

me:  “You want them dead so bad, you do it.”

Tom:  On the other side, you wouldn’t survive if I flipped out, because you wouldn’t make the phone call to get Scatman Caruthers, and you wouldn’t want to run around outside.**

me:  That’s true. “Eh, I’d rather die than have to make a phone call.” That’s why telepathy is such a convenient power to have, you don’t have to pick up the phone. And, I would never make it back out of that maze.***

Tom:  Also true! So, the lesson is, you need to be the one to flip out, so we all survive.

me:  And what did I do when I flipped out last night?**** I went to bed early, then couldn’t get to sleep, and then we watched VEEP. Everybody lived.

*Elliott is our jerk of a cat.

**I’m allergic to outside and also have no tolerance for weather that isn’t between 55-74 degrees.

***I have no sense of direction.

****Moving causes several breakdowns on my part. We’re at the point where I’d like to just set fire to all of our belongings (but don’t because of the previously mentioned laziness). This is not a pleasant moving phase for anyone involved.

The Things You Find When Packing 1

I should really be packing right now. We’re at that stage where not everything is packed, but a lot of it is, so you reach this false sense of security while also being stressed out by the mess. I look around and marvel that anyone ever actually moves all their stuff from one place to another.

We’ve been going through junk drawers and boxes of paper. This has unearthed a few gems.

In the junk drawer in the kitchen, I found this IOU that Tom made me for my birthday several years ago. We often joke that I can get fixated on something and feel that one thing will set off a string of events that will then lead to me being a capable, responsible person (moving, coincidentally, is one of these things, as well). In the case of this IOU, that thing was a filter that attaches to a ceiling fan. Tom, as you already know, has an excellent sense of humor and luckily I have one about myself:

Time has passed, and I never ended up with the ceiling fan thingy, and I can’t exactly remember how it would have led to never-ending happiness, but I’m sure my case was airtight and we’ll never know for sure if I was right because I didn’t get one.

I was going to share everything I’ve found so far, but if I don’t start packing again, my generous sister and brother-in-law, who are coming to help us move, are going to slaughter me with my still-unpacked knives.

So, more uncovered gems to come.


No Renovating

Tom rides MARTA every day to work. MARTA is Atlanta’s public transportation system. He noticed this sign recently and took a picture. It’s one of my favorite things right now. If I feel down, I think about it and it lifts my spirits. Since it makes me so happy, I wanted to share it with you. The extra-wonderful thing about this sign is that since it exists, if there’s NOT one where ever else I go, that means I’m allowed to saw and spray paint at the same time.

Have a great weekend and happy renovating!