Adventures with Little White Cat

Promptly after moving all my boxes from old house to new house, it was time to jet to Chicago for our annual spring board meeting. Thus far, I've survived the planning and coordination of two of these events, and to be perfectly honest, I don't understand what the big deal is.

I miss event planning. I want to do it all day long. For me, it's not a panicky stress but a fun progression of things... Building invitations, making logistical arrangements, building tent cards, choosing menus. Ugh, I love it. Chicago was such an awesome opportunity to jump back into these things, and after a whirlwind three days, I took Friday off and made the short jaunt from Chicago to Michigan on Thursday afternoon.

Thursday and Friday were pretty low key, we lounged around watching movies, playing games, and sleeping. On Friday night, GB's sister and her boyfriend drove in from Chicago so that might we closed down the bars before porch picking till nearly 5am. Her boyfriend is kind of an odd cookie, but they're cute together, and I adore her. Besides being funny and sweet, she and GB are close, and it's fun to see them together.

On Saturday, the four of us joined the rest of the family for his cousin's first communion. Now, when I say "the rest of my family" you can generally expect that it means my brother might emerge from a haze of Marlboro Reds to make an appearance at a family dinner.

The same is not true of GB... Maybe because his mom is one of ELEVEN! Classic giant Irish Catholic family: they're loud, they're slightly overwhelming, and they're hilarious. Anyway, so I've met a few of them several times,  but this was kind of the mass here's-my-girlfriend-please-don't-scare-her-away-with-all-your-crazy meeting. It was awesome. For the most part, GB and I kicked it outside with the kids, playing games and spinning them around until we nearly threw up (and by "we" I fully mean me). We spun and spun, and at one point I swung the party-girl right into a small tree. GB and a couple of his uncles and cousins (including her dad) were enjoying cigars on the porch and saw the whole thing happen - the laughter that ensued tells me that I must have looked absolutely terrified. Thank goodness she just laughed it off. Kids are tough like that.

But when they're not being tough they're usually being hilarious. Peering from the yard to the porch, you would have seen the younger sister of my tree-friend on her hands and knees meowing, nuzzling anyone she could find. Pausing before GB, she slowly drew our fingers into a paw shape and batted at his perfectly laced boat shoes. Ironically enough, he was already sassy with me because I had untied one the night before and "messed with the fit" so damned if he was about to let "little white cat" mess with the others. However, she persisted. Cue GB running backwards across the lawn and a three-year-old moving at the speed of light on her hands and knees across the lawn insisting that "other kitties can't tie shoes, but little white cat can tie them!" I nearly died laughing.

Post-party, GB, his sister, his parents, the boyfriend and I headed up to his parents house. They all keep trying to convince me that their hometown is "sooooooooo hick" and to illustrate this, we took GBs Kentucky Derby winnings (there was a $2 pool at the party and he won!) and went on downtown to the only bar still open. The name escapes me, but it wasn't hick, it was just a lil trashy. Whatever, we played a bunch of keno and laughed and drank. It was fabulous. But hick? Ha! They've never seen hick. Next time GB is in Colorado, I'll show him what's what. (Getcha boots ready, girls.)

Sunday was Mothers Day, which I was a little apprehensive about being around for, but per the usual, it was excellent. Their home is stunning, and in the same way that we grew up with mountains and droughts, he grew up with Canadian neighbors and the river. (It's so surreal to be in a place where water is not a big deal.) WE CAUGHT A FISH! A salmon. We didn't get to eat it because dinner was already practically on the table, but there will be more chances...say uhhh next weekend! :) Yay.

Handy Men

Currently typing on a delayed plane out of Chicago (en route to Detroit). They have us kicking on the ground because a guy accidentally broke a tray table and they're required to fix it before takeoff. 

As it turns out, fix is a pretty loose term here on American Airlines. Some guy in a neon vest and blue uniform just came aboard, evaluated the situation, slapped a sticker reading, "Inoperative. Please do not use." on the tray table and then duct-taped it in place. Two words, ladies: handy man. 

It's funny too that this flight is about 45 minutes, or the amount of time it takes me to go door-to-door, home-to-work in the morning. Let me tell you, I love the house, but the new commute is a monster. Three extra metro stops makes a heck of a difference and my walk home isn't as direct as it was and I don't like that. 

New house is the entire second floor of a townhouse built in the 1800s. (Flash forward, it's now Friday and I've been back in DC since Monday) Anyway, the house is great and all, but now that I've actually been living here - it's become clear that this place is not nearly as well maintained as I had hoped. 

For one, I arrived home (not just emotionally drained but also running on a grand total of three-hours sleep) to TWO ******* ROACHES KICKING IT IN MY LIVING ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mind you, they were dead, but this definitely marks my first encounter with these things and let me tell you, I am not pleased. Landlord conveniently neglected to inform me that this was a known issue - pest control is under contract to visit once a month. They were off duty while the apartment was vacant, but came by today. I'm disgusted and mad, but so long as it's not an ongoing creepy crawly issue, I think I can handle this. Thank goodness my vacuum just sucks this effers up. Additionally, there's a few little things like cracks and seals that need to be fixed but I can probably handle those by myself. 

So now that you know about the ickies, let me tell you about all the good things! Like I said, Miss Molly and I have the entire top floor of an old town home. (She moves in next weekend.) Entering from the side, you walk up a narrow staircase; from the top, my bedroom is to your right. It's a large square shape with a faux fireplace (mantle?) and three windows that look out into the street below. Spacious closet has nothing in it yet, but I plan to finally unpack this weekend. Leave my room, walk down the hallway, and the next door on your left is Molly's room. Her lighting is kind of terrible, but her closet is bigger and she gets a whole sitting room off her bedroom!! It's very cute. Next door is the bathroom where there is a big tub. After that a living room with vaulted ceiling and finally a little bitty kitchen with a bunch of windows that overlook a shared back yard. 

The very best part is that were allowed to paint and decorate as we please. I've already re-tiled the kitchen and bathroom in my head, but that might never come to fruition. However, the next time GB is in town, you better believe that he and I will get at least one room in this place painted. Right now for the kitchen, I am thinking a navy blue sponge/swirl below a lighter blue chair rail and white top. Then a Moroccan scheme for my room: teal, gold, red, purple, etc. Lots of shiny. 

Speaking of GB, ummmmm well .... I love him. And this is quickly becoming one of those situations where when it's good, its awesome and when I have to leave, I cry. Hahaha, I so pity the two people I was smooshed between on my latest flight home, I was a mess. Our weekend was great, however; details on that are for another post. :)