The Gift of Thrift

When Brad & I were looking to invest all the money we didn’t have in a house, I was dead-set on getting an older home. Luckily for me, Pittsburgh is lousy with old homes, and it’s nothing to find a perfectly affordable place that’s over 100 years old and full of great character.

And by “character,” I mean “termites.”

Weighty

I’ve always been a fan of routine. My weekly routine of grocery shopping, the yearly routine of traveling south for the holidays and visiting each of our families on the designated days, even the old, stale routine I repeat every weekday morning when I get to the office: coffee, breakfast, emails and RSS check.

Followed by eight hours of intermittent weeping and soul-crushing despair!

Silver Linings: When the World Gives You Crap, Just Wallow In It Until the Slightest Improvement Seems Like a Fucking Miracle

You know, Internet, blogging is a blessing and a curse: a blessing because it sure is therapeutic to vent to an audience, and hey – it’s fun! But a curse because all the really interesting shit I want to talk about? I really can’t. Because I’m venting to an audience – an audience that might very well include relatives and the people who pay me for services rendered.

I bet her company’s monthly newsletter is a whole lot more entertaining than mine.

Good, Better, Best

In the case of Steelers vs. Redskins: The Steelers emerged victorious.

In the case of Obama vs. McCain: Obama emerged victorious.

In the case of Chick vs. Dick?

Selective Memory

Well, Internet, that spectacularly filthy show I’m in opened this weekend, and it felt a little bit like this:

Except with more fishnets and sexual innuendo.