I am eating peanut butter by the spoonful

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New name?

I realized that I have had a Bloggy Renaissance lately, and I'm not sure why. Maybe I miss writing. Maybe I have stuff to write about these days with this house, rather than just bitching about the daily grind. I like to have a place to put all my pictures and stories too, like a proud mama. Maybe it's because the "transition" is finally coming to a close, and I have a real life back after traveling, living in four different states, school, marriage, house, career, etc. This morning before it warmed up enough to paint, I spent a couple hours going back to 2006 and reading my bloggy. Woah. This blog was very different then, and I kind of liked it. In '06, I was struggling, and searching for something. Mostly money. I did a lot of philosophizing, and ranting. Man, those next couple years were stressful. It's funny though... all the things I wished for have come true, and I have emerged a different person. My blog has changed too. I think is has become kind o...
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Sad little wall.

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I thought I was done with interior design for a while. I like how everything looks and feels in the house. Eclectic, collected, sentimental, and MINE. But, recently two people poo-pooed my lion wall. This makes me think they don't know a thing. Or, is my lion wall not as great as I think? The wall in question. This wall is in the living room; a tiny, open, 15x20 room squished next to the kitchen that functions as family room, den, living room, and office. The left (in photo) side is flanked by the bar, with two stools. It has the world's frumpiest couch (but very, very comfy), and two chairs. On the right is a picture window. The couch faces the TV. I have struggled with this wall several times. Should it be an accent wall? House a large piece of art? If so, what? I've tried to make several montages of family photos, found things, and it always comes out mish-mashed. Until I found the lion. She came from an antique store in Reno, and was living on the tallest part of...
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Tweak

I feel a little like Tweak from South Park right now. Nope, not high on drugs or caffeine... just trying to readjust my schedule from my new job on night shift at the hospital. It's almost 2 a.m., and I can't tell if I am tired. But I don't think so. I also can't tell if I am hungry. My stomach has told me when it's lunchtime for 28 years, and it's not giving me the same signals at midnight. For the last 3 days I had popcorn for breakfast at 7:30 a.m., which was, I think, actually dinner. I started Sunday night with 3 12-hour shifts in a row, 7p.m. to 7 a.m. I'd applied for this job mistakenly back in May, thinking it was 7a-7p. But when it was the only one that I got a call for, I started to really consider it. And here I am. There are some great benefits to working night shift. The place just clears out. I get princess parking. The skeleton crew shares a weird bond... It's like, hi, I'm a zombie too, and I feel ya. During the day, it's easy to...
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