So over it.

I am so sick of all this Minneapolis versus St. Paul bullshit I could scream.

I like St. Paul. It is much more my style. I like the slower pace, I’m not into nightlife. I like my townie-esque bar and my favorite Vietnamese place and my convenient distance from all of my favorite places. St. Paul is exactly what I need and I intend to stay right the hell here.

I don’t care why you (the proverbial you) think Minneapolis is so much better. It works for you and that’s just fine with me. I don’t need to listen to you preach. And I don’t want to argue with anyone about why I think St. Paul is better, either. Seriously. Is it really so important?

I’m not going to move to another city just because there are more food delivery options. That would probably be bad for my bank account anyway. When I want to visit a delicious Minneapolis restaurant or something, I will. HELLO, it takes like ten minutes to get there. It’s not that big a deal.

The two cities are very different and each offer different things. I don’t understand why people can’t just accept that each city has its own positive and negative qualities and leave it the hell alone. I am over the rivalry. They are cities, not sports teams. Find something more worthwhile to argue about.

Wishlist Wednesday + some bitching

Before I get into the main purpose of this post, I have a story for you. And by story, I mean I need to whine about something.

Yesterday morning I left home an hour early so I could hit the gym before work (by far my favorite time to go). My first bus, the 67, was totally late. This makes me angry, because when the 67 is late, odds are I will miss a well-timed 50, and ultimately my workout will be cut short. So when  I exited the 67 at University and Prior at a time later than when my usual 50 arrives, I was not happy as I walked toward the stop.

But then, it appeared. The 50 was just a little bit late, and I could totally make it if I ran swiftly up the street and across the intersection to the stop. So I did. Unfortunately, construction debris caused me to land one of my strides all funky and mow my left foot hurts like balls.

Alas, my feet get a lot of use, and I am still limping today.

The other thing about the construction is it causes huge backups during afternoon rush hour and I almost always end up missing the 67 going home, usually by less than a minute, and the next one doesn’t come for half an hour. I’m excited for the new light rail, but this construction is ruining my life. or at least my commute.

Wow. That lasted longer than I intended.

Anyway.

Wishlist Wednesday is apparently a thing in some corners of the Internet. Home decor is a Thing I Love, but sadly can’t afford much of. However, Darren and I are in the market for some new-but-inexpensive furniture items, so we’re planning to hit Ikea sometime this weekend. Partly for shelves for our living room, partly for a new chair for him, and partly to sit on some couches:

I’m a fan of the Karlstad in medium grey

I’ve been eyeing this guy for a while. It’s simple and affordable. I’d add some big fluffy pillows.

Kivik in grey-brown

I came across this one today and added it to my list of front-runners.

I also dream of replacing our current rug. We have a big, inexpensive, and darkly colored rug from Target right now. It worked well in our old apartment, but it makes our current living room feel smaller. I found some new favorites at Ikea and Macy’s:

Alvine rug from Ikea

I think this one is fantastic, but I suspect the pets would eat the fringe.

All from Macy’s.

Argh, decorating is expensive. But fun. One day when we have more money, I will do amazing things to our home. until then: wishlist. And Pinterest. Yes.

American Heroes

I’ve been posting this clip all over the internet today because, while the situation depicted is not the same, the words ring true.

‎”The streets of heaven are too crowded with angels, but every time we think we have measured our capacity to meet a challenge, we look up and we’re reminded that that capacity may well be limitless. This is a time for American heroes. We will do what is hard. We will achieve what is great. This is a time for American heroes and we reach for the stars. God bless their memory, God bless you and God bless the United States of America.”

Yeah, I remember where I was the morning of September 11, 2001. I think most of us do. I had just started eleventh grade. When I arrived to my first class of the day – Foods for Today with Ms. Steen, only the greatest class ever (so amazing I took it twice) – the television was on and everyone was watching, but none of us understood what exactly had happened. I thought it was an accident. Sometimes planes crash, right? Ms. Steen turned off the television and class went on as usual.

Once first block let out, we quickly learned that the situation was clearly far more than just an accident. The rest of the day is a blur. We went to our classes but there were no lessons. The TV was usually on and I vaguely remember spending time in Mr. Heslop’s class just talking through it. I felt nothing. I thought maybe I was heartless but in retrospect I know I was numb.

I spent the next few days watching recaps and memorials and fundraisers. My parents had cable and VH1 was playing videos in tribute. It was the very first time I heard the song Hallelujah (I think they were playing the Rufus Wainwright version) and I will forever associate that song with tragedy. Which is not to say that I don’t love the song because wow. It’s so good.

I had intended to spend today watching Torchwood, but I’ve watching History.com’s video compilation and reading remembrance stories at Band Back Together. And I know I haven’t been posting with much regularity, but I realized after reading those stories that I couldn’t let today go by without posting my own, here, on my poor neglected blog. There have been a lot of events throughout history that have changed the world, but the attacks on September 11 were the first time I really witnessed history in the making. It’s probably safe to say that it was an event that changed who I am as a person. I don’t think it’s cliche for me to take time out of my life to remember what happened, to mourn for the lives lost, and to weep a little (because I have) for those who suffered the greatest.

At the end of the day, despite the sadness, I think it’s wonderful to remember that there were heroes on that day, and despite the mess that the world is right now, heroes still exist.

rock me tender in the night air

If you’ve seen my kitchen, you know that it really kind of sucks. It’s small and lacks both counter and storage space. However, it’s supposedly an eat-in kitchen, so there’s an open spot against one wall.

We acquired a small butcher block/cart thing which provides extra storage and a place for the cats to eat (we keep their food up so the dog can’t get to it), and that + the dog’s food area + trash can basically filled the space.

But! Darren brought me home a rocking chair last week. I’ve been wanting one for a while. It needs to be re-painted, as its previous owners did a really slapdash job of throwing on some white paint. Anyway, it didn’t fit in the living room very well, so I moved some stuff around a little and now I have a rocking chair in the kitchen. It’s basically the greatest thing ever. Waiting for the oven to preheat? Rock. Husband is cooking and you want to hang out? Rock. This morning I ate cereal and rocked.

This isn’t really going anywhere. I just want to throw this out there: rocking chair. Kitchen. Advisable.

Swimming through birch and bark

It’s been a pretty slow week, hence the lack of updates.

There’s construction happening at work. We’re downsizing out suite now that half the office has relocated and we don’t need or want to pay for all the extra space. So the construction is mostly just noisy and messy. Today, however, a cordless drill came crashing through my ceiling. So that was something. Nothing by the ceiling tile sustained any damage (or injury).

This weekend I’m heading north again, this time with a bunch of ladies. Kate’s birthday is tomorrow (!) and we’re celebrating with a long weekend at her grandparents’ cabin. There will be skinny dipping. It’s supposed to be hot as balls all weekend. it’s supposed to rain too, but you can bet your bottom dollar (what?) that sa long as there’s no lightning, I’ll still be in that water.

I must remember to pack Kate’s gift tonight. Also the brownies that I made. Brownies! In my haste to get them in the oven, I forgot to add walnuts. I think they’ll still be awesome though.

Darren has to hold down the fort at home. I think he’ll manage. I suspect I’ll come home to find him playing video games in his underwear.

Too much?

Here is a sneak peek at Kate’s present, complete with a handmade bow.

Photos from the week

I wore the hell out of my mom’s old Harley necklace.

I had a busy day and lacked decent food for lunch.

You get a good job with good pay and you’re okay

First, someone on Callboard linked to this post from Runner’s World today and it felt extremely appropriate. Not just for me, but all the people in this city (and country, holy crap) dealing with tornado aftermath in the mist of whatever else is going on in their lives.

Second, I need to confess something. I’m normally pretty decent at money management but sometimes I make mistakes. Darren sucks at the management part but is good about actually watching our bank account. Sometime in the last couple weeks we went overboard and now we have no spending money left for the next few days until I get paid. I mean, we have enough for the dog food and toilet paper that needs to be purchased today, but y’know. But even after payday it’s going to be tight because, y’know, rent and stuff, plus D doesn’t get paid until the week after.

So! I’m going to [try very hard to] completely avoid spending any extra money for at least the month of June. June is going to be the test month, with it’s lack of holidays and no current plans. I’m not going to buy myself lunches or new lipstick or nail polish or clearance shirts from Target (okay… maybe no promises on that last one, but only if they’re under $7). I’m not going to let Darren talk me into dinners out. Expensive nights at the bar will become a bottle of something from the liquor store. And when we go to the store for dog food, we’re not going to walk out with dog food plus deli wraps plus a couple bags of chips.

Seriously. After June we can assess, and make a permanent plan from there. If we want to build up our savings and pay off debt (Suze Orman says you should pay off student loan debt first, Dave Ramsey says you should start with the smallest and work your way up. I think I’mma go his route), eventually replace our car and one day buy a friggin’ house, we need to actually take the necessary steps in doing so. Go effing figure. Bonus: we happen to be meeting with a financial planner on Saturday.

I think now that I’ve put this all out there, I can pretend I have an adoring public holding me accountable. I keep saying me, but I mean us. Team Baxter.

Whew. After all that, I do have one more item of note. Thanks to Kate, I cannot get this song out of my head. Enjoy!

Bitch Pants

I yelled at some dudes in the bar the other night.

I was out with a few ladyfriends (there was also one dude there at the time) and we got to discussing, er, negative interaction. I brought up this blog post I had read recently about a woman who decided she would no longer put up with people’s shit – regardless of whether it was directed at her or a stranger, she would stand up to the a-holes. And she did.

On reading the post, I realized I’m kinda that girl. I have no problem donning my bitch pants when necessary.

Example: A few years ago, I was out swimming with Kate, Heather, and Stephanie. We were bobbing around near a sand bar when we spotted a couple of dudes in a boat headed our way. Le sigh. We were having a great time and did not want to be chatted up by some tourist bros. Sure enough, they trolled up next to us and attempted to make conversation. I don’t think I said anything; the other ladies gave short but polite answers but made no real attempt to keep the conversation going. Finally, when they asked our names I turned to them and said “I really don’t think that matters.”

A conversation killer to be sure. The bros eventually trolled away and our peace was returned.

Anyway, the above was just one shining sample from a series of bitchery bestowed upon others by yours truly. I think it’s probably the meanest one, though. All other instances involved people being actual douchebags, as opposed to just clueless dudes.

So this herd of middle aged guys were sitting at the bar on Friday night, after spending a fair amount of time getting their pool cues all up in our faces. It was early, so there weren’t a lot of people there yet. For whatever reason (alcohol, I assume), they were rowdy as hell and loud. We ignored them for awhile but I of course reached Point Bitch and yelled back.

“SHUT. UP. Jeeesus!”

It worked well enough.

Apologies to Jesus, though.

Lady night

Darren is out tonight, so I’m having a spontaneous at-home date night with myself.

candles, hookah (with pomegranate shisha), gin & ginger ale

Yes. All of the above plus Happy Endings on Hulu. Nice.

The better part of one’s life consists of his friendships

I’m having one of those days/nights where everything is friggin’ perfect. Aside from the fact that we have the loudest neighbors ever. Boo.

But really. The dog has been super well-behaved all day, Darren and I got laundry done (I looove not having to do it on Sundays), we went out for lunch (gyros!), stopped at the liquor store for gin and Strongbow (consumed separately), got shisha and coals for the hookah, and we’ve just been hanging out in our living room doing our things and it is cozy and delightful.

Fact: I have an awesome husband. He fixed our car yesterday, and today I learned that he knows how to lay cement for a driveway. There’s this house up the street that totally has no driveway that we’d probably buy if it weren’t for our unfortunate savings account. It’s one thing to buy a house, but what if we suddenly needed to fix the roof? We wouldn’t have enough fundage, I’m sure. Sad, because dang if that house isn’t a friggin’ steal.

Er, anyway. Learning of Darren’s honest-to-goodness manly skills have been a nice surprise. It’s like the day after our wedding, when we were driving home and he told me all about how to drive a tank. He’s awesome, is what I’m saying. Also, re: the tank, we are prepared should the zombie apocalypse ever come.

PS, we’ve been drinking, which I think has a lot to do with everything I just typed.

Anywaaay. Kate and I rolled over to Mipples after work yesterday to hang out with Tara and Nicole. The four of us haven’t all been in one room together in… I don’t even know how long. Years.

Nicole, me, Tara, Kate. On campus, ’04

Freshman year of college we were four members of the Fab Five. Kate and I lived together, Tara was next door, and Nicole and Erika (member #5) lived in the other wing. I don’t know how we came together, but we did, and it was one of the most awesome years of my life. Now that four of us live within 10 miles of each other, we’re hoping to make a point of getting together more often. It was like no time had passed, and it’s been a long time since I laughed that hard.

Love it.