Baby, Baby, Baby

We're having a baby.

A tiny person. A mini-me. A little minion.

It only seems fitting that our B & Me blog has a baby, too:

b-and-me.weebly.com

Here's to the next adventure!

xoxo, b & ben

Since... MAY!?

We've been on Go Mode since.... well apparently since May and the first hints of summer.

Since then, we had a Ben&B trip to Vegas.... where it actually ended up raining for a good portion of the trip. In the desert. We had a pretty wicked awesome corner suite room at the Hard Rock, with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the center pool on 2 of the 4 walls. Ben flew in from Wherever, USA that he had a work trip the week prior, and I managed to get myself from MKE to LAS in one piece. Because Ben is amazing sometimes, he went out and bought an array of snacks, champagne and orange juice, wine, vodka, red bulls, and waters to stock up our room before I even got there. We had way too much fun at the pool (on the nice day.5), playing goofy slots, hitting up the blackjack tables, and walking the Strip.

So obviously, we went back in about a month's time. Hello Hard Rock Hotel, you sexy beast. The second go-round was for Ben's birthday, so we ended up going right over Labor Day weekend. There was a little snafu with not getting the corner suite again, so we stayed one night in a standard room and were told we would move in the morning. Morning came, we fueled ourselves with mimosas, and headed to the pool to wait for the call that at our new room was ready. Long story short, when we grabbed all our stuff and dumped it in the new room, our wedding bands were nowhere to be found. Ben went back to the old room to look around, and the nervous Nelly maid assured him that she hadn't seen anything................................................this brings me to a dark place. No additional comments.

Anywho, we spent the majority of this trip outside by the pool. We played swim up blackjack, lounged in the sun and sun, and went to the Jason Derulo pool party concert. It was while we were poolside that I found out my friends Kor&J were already on their flight headed to Vegas. And then Ben's cousin Jennifer from Phoenix texted and said she also was in Vegas for the weekend. What are the beautiful odds?! We ended up meeting up and spent a night out together causing a general ruckus.



The week before the second Vegas trip, I surprised Ben with family and friends at our apartment for his 29th birthday. His high school friend/best man Dan stopped by as the official distractor, and took Ben out on a brewery tour and to Potowatomi for lunch while everyone gathered. If you know anything about me, I'm :HORRIBLE at keeping secrets from Ben. I get too excited to share things with him, and when I do keep my mouth shut, he can pick up on my even more awkward attempts at being smooth and nonchalant. The surprise went off without a hitch, and the second surprise-- a pontoon boat for the evening-- went over great as well.

But more catch up later... time for work!

pack it up

We leave 3am Thursday morning for Nashville (heeeeey wedding!), so I decided to become an adult this afternoon and pack. No last minute realizations that the majority of my clothes are dirty, I can only find one of my nude heels, or a cat somehow got zipped up into my luggage. 

So I got the 90's music bumping, pulled out my suitcase, and put on my cowgirl boots for inspiration. About 20 minutes and 53 wardrobe changes later, N'sync was blasting, booty was shaking, ideas were flowing............ and then Hurricane Brit hit.

the beginning....

I can't really explain how or why, but I pulled everything out of our closet with the idea that I would "totally organize this" and "maybe do some spring cleaning AND packing." Then the power tools and pink toolbox made an appearance, there was some dis-assembly and shelving modification.... the chaos spread from the closet to the rest of the poor little bedroom like a sickness. 

Now I'm sitting Indian style in the middle of my floor among a sad wreck of heels, sweaters, work out shorts, hangers, a lawn gnome, and mismatched socks. I honestly don't even know where my suitcase went. I haven't see one of the cats for a few hours. 

It seemed like such a good idea at the time. 

Thanks for getting me so amped up N'sync. This would have never happened if you weren't so ridiculously awesome, old school style.

Ben says I have to have this cleaned up by tonight. We'll see. 

I'm hungry and losing interest faster than...


Anyways, here's a picture of Nicole licking her lips while
I was trying to make her look like a vampire cat. 

xoxo, b  

merry christmas kiddos

I'm going to be honest, I thought about doing a Pinteresty-lovey-dovey-oh-how-adorbs type Christmas card this year. We clean up nice.

Picture it: Snow gently falling as we tenderly embrace along the lake shore. A sweet kiss on the forehead with the city lights twinkling behind us. Holding hands and looking backwards over our shoulders while cheesing for the camera.  Or maybe a smile-worthy, heart warming mishap with a string of lights, tangling us together into a PG-13 kiss.

Then I realized that's silly. We don't skip around town gazing into each other's eyeballs. Well, not all the time.... and besides, that's what everyone else is doing. Which is lame. Because I've walked around and I hardly ever see people striking a traditional Christmas card pose during my day to day activities.

So I present to you, Ben & Brit's real life Christmas card(s):

cats wearing clothes, cell phone, wine, mess.

Merry Christmas :)

fa la la la la

la la la la

xoxo, b

turkey recap

Pre-Turkey Tuesday:

My last day at the jewelry store. Smash made me a pink sash and a glittery pink crown that I wore the majority of the day like a preschool princess. Roughly 1.7 million things went wrong and required me to fix them, so I didn't get much time to just hang out with my coworkers. After the store closed at 7, Smash and Co. popped open a bottle of bubbly and gave my "eugoogly"...which I had jokingly requested. Or not jokingly. After the beautiful eugoogly, we headed to Mexico for dinner and dranks.

I'm horrible, awful, no-good at having things hit me right away. Seriously. Which is part of the reason that I generally don't get too emotional......until a week and a half later when Ben finds me on the couch with a cup of coffee and mascara-face. As a whole, I'm 100% time-consuming and tiring to understand... literally a waltzing contradiction.

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Turkey Time:

Having two families too close to each other makes for filling holidays. Turkey day was no exception. A late lunch turned into dinner at my parent's house, and after wiping the gravy from our faces we were at Ben's side of the family enjoying desserts and falling asleep on the couch.
Unlike last year, no one stood up and announced any life-altering news. 

Also unlike last year, Ben and I did zero Black Friday shopping. Instead, we slept in and I telephoned my mom (who was downstairs) to bring us a couple of coffees in bed. She said no.
In my defense, 1: It worked the last time 2: At least I tried and 3: Brilliant idea, right?

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Saturday & Sunday:

To make the next tidbit make sense, I need to confess that Ben and I are raising spoiled thug cats. Long haired, fluffy, spoiled, social butterfly thugs named Paris and Nicole.

These little thugs stayed home alone for 2 nights while we went home for Thanksgiving. 

When we got home to the apartment Saturday afternoon, we found half eaten cookies all over the kitchen and scattered around the living room floor. The cute ceramic food bowl with the the painted blue script of Tuna Breath was mercilessly thrown in true riot state into the mecca of the chaos. Clumps of long black hair adorned the once cozy home that had- from all accounts- transformed into a gladiator coliseum only hours earlier when the last bit of cat food was nibbled and the undeniable possibility of certain death first crept to attention.

So we fed the monsters, and they fell asleep purring and cuddled up together. Because in all likelihood they are also un-medicated bipolars as well.

And now it's officially time for Christmas!
Which means Christmas music, Christmas decorations, Christmas cats, Christmas everything at all hours of the day and night. Christmas!!

xoxo, b

brit-sit

I had no Brit-sitter this week. 

Which is good, because I've been very busy working two jobs.

And which is bad because I've spent an unhealthy amount of time talking to my cats and growing extremely accustomed to their strange behavior. Trying to climb on my back while I'm sitting upright and typing, trying to climb on my lap while I'm using the.... ahem ladies room, eating a cardboard box for the hell of it, punching me in the face in the morning because they are channeling Mike Tyson, and general clingy-ness, snoring like dogs, purring all.the.time., and yip-yapping are 100% normal to me now. Sure, it was upwards of 86% normal to me before, but those monsters really beefed up their crazy and are dedicated to making me feel like a spazzy old cat lady..... and it's working.

No Brit-sitter is also bad because there is no one to stop me from having a package of bacon, 2 apples, miscellaneous Halloween candy, and a hefty portion of wine for dinner. I'm thinking Ben would not be too happy with me, since he has vocalized concerns over my odds of making it to 30............but I can rationalize just about anything. Take the above mentioned fantastic dinner for example: Meat, good. Period. Apples=fruit=good. Candy=chocolate=derived from a plant=plants=good. Wine=grapes=fruit with antioxidants=good. Throw "antioxidants" into any food-related nonsense sentence and it's like a free pass. 

Ya know what, I did have a Brit-sitter tonight by the name of Marshall's Store. Which means someone has a new pair of boots, among other things.

Ya win some and ya lose some. 

Ben's home tomorrow, and done traveling until February or something like that. Whoot whoooooot

xoxo, b

sushi

There's sushi on my counter, rice coated little packages of joy shooting me shy glances from across the room. I have to wait for Ben to get home, since he is the responsible adult who brought home the sushi for dinner and then braved the elements (hello snow?!) to go work on his fitness and overall well-being while I finished up the retail-hour workday.


I'll just have a glass of wine to pass the time. I like wine.

But I really like sushi.................


Why do those tasty little nuggets have to sit on the counter in plain sight, taunting me with their perfect bite sized combination of veggies and raw fish or whatever the hell is rolled into the magical concoction that is begging to be tenderly dipped into the warm brown soy sauce...........


Just have more wine, woman. You may have wine. Sushi has to wait.......

Wine. Wine. Wine bottle. Beer bottle. Brewery. Brewery tour. Odd tourists on a brewery tour. Some guy with a goatee wearing a tropical shirt with a collar and the three top buttons undone because he likes to strut his stuff.


Where the heck is Benjamin. Also, how could my wine glass be empty.


I'm going in. Self-restraint is lame.


xoxo, b

the ugly cry

first business trip

 Ben departed for New York this morning sometime around 4am. I'm not 100% sure on the exact time because, hell, it was 4am and frankly, I was ugly crying. No single glistening tear on this cheek. No, no. More like a pitiful pajama-clad, bedhead me standing lost in the living room trying to keep it together. I don't know about the rest of the population, but when I'm tired and sad my ugly cry is straight out of an 80's horror film. To hold back tears I hold my breath, my stomach clenches up, and my face crinkles and conforms into ways previously unknown to mankind. The breath-holding causes red-eye bulging and a series of odd choking gasps, boogers, and tears.  To top it off, muttering things between gasps like "You look so handsome! I'm going to miss you so much! The cats are mean and punch me while I sleep!" and I've successfully brought a whole new level of sexy. 

Paris & Nicole helping Ben pack

So my husband's gone for Monday through Thursday night. Seriously, not that long at all. Especially since he rounded up some "brit-sitters" to keep me company this week. I have a busy week. And we are leaving for our two year anniversary road trip on Friday night. That's exciting.... I could totally Google things for us to do.... we have plane tickets and no plans. Just the way it should be!

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WI State Fair

Ben and I went to the Wisconsin State Fair on Saturday. It was glorious and sunny and warm and wonderful. We tried loaded potatoes, funnel cake, ice cream, craft beer, did a wine tasting, and rode the sky glider from one end of the park to the other. We also found the barn with the ducks, but the place was way too crowded for me to steal one. 

riding the sky glider

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And here is a photo of Paris wearing a bikini. 

She's trying to break into the cruel world of swimsuit modeling.

I think she looks fantastic.

Paris in a bikini

xoxo, b

trophy wife

I'm under the impression that I should be a trophy wife.

I'll rock my hot pink heels and a dress and sashay around department stores and go out for lunch and wear too much perfume and develop a fake laugh so I can say things like "daaaaaarrrrling, this afternoon mojito is absolutely faaaaaabulous!" Then I'll twirl around and waltz home where I will pat my fluffy kitties on their fluffy heads and make a three course dinner. Soon, Ben will burst through the door, set down his briefcase and in a very deep voice exclaim, "Honey! I'm home!" He would then immediately pick me up, twirl me around, and give me a passionate kiss on the lips. Obviously, I would be drinking wine by this point in the evening. He would then compliment me until I beg him to stop because dinner is getting cold.

 

 

In immediate hindsight of the directly above mentioned story, there's no way in Hades that I could be a trophy wife:

 

 

- I can only wear my heels for short periods of time. If I sashay, my feet pay. Maybe I could be a barefoot/flip flop wearing trophy wife?

 

- I have not met a department store that I have not felt overwhelmed and/or lost in. Literally lost. It's like a black hole maze of different designers and there is no way to safely escape in a timely manner. It's like ADHD materialized.

 

- I could do lunch. I like lunch that other people make for me.

 

- Fake laughing makes me feel like I have internal bleeding. Super annoying, internal bleeding.

 

- Not a fan of mojitos. Do trophy wives drink beer and like to BBQ? Is that a thing?

 

- I do enjoy a good twirling about... especially in a sundress. That part can stay. I'd have to bring my A-game for leg shaving on a regular basis.

 

- Our fluffy kitties are experiencing their teenage angst years. They've really made a name for themselves as the apex predators of this apartment. They are spazzy, destructive monsters. Sitting pretty for a pat on the head is not something I imagine happening in the foreseeable future.

 

- When Ben comes home, he does give me a hug and kiss. There is no picking up and twirl around hug and kiss though. This must change immediately.

 

- I need more not-cheap wine. Or craft beer. Again, can a trophy wife drink beer right from the bottle? Or is it strictly a swirl your wine type deal?

 

-And the final reason, I require a variety of multiple activities to fill my day. Otherwise, I come up with "great ideas" that I try and execute myself. Past examples have included dying my hair dark brown, rearranging the entire apartment, ripping apart our closet and putting it back together, chopping some bangs, impromptu painting, highlighting my hair and the middle of the cat's forehead, cooking disasters, trying to give the cats a bath, organizing our storage locker, Pinterest DIY projects, and donating things before Ben finds out they're missing.

 

 

It's a work in progress. Time for some imitation crab and fruit juice.

 

Trophy wife out.

 

 

xoxo, b

Ring-a-ding

My friend Kor recently went and got herself engaged, and then so kindly came home to WI over July 4th. We got a little group together Friday night, caught up, went out, came home. A more detailed description of the night is as follows:

- I got to use my fancy pants serving bowls and glasses to make sure my guests were aptly fed and watered (or champagne-d and Chex-mixed)
 

- Kor has a pretty ring. I felt honored to be the one to show her how to use it to ward off creepers at the bar.
 

- I'm fairly certain I know how people end up face down in the MKE river. Spoiler alert: It's the power trippin' MKE police department on their ponies at the end of the night snatching boys and throwing them into the timeout trailer. Fools.
 

-And there was dancing. So much bad dancing. 

Saturday was a surpris
e lunch for Kor at The Smoke Shack. And since it was a surprise, Kor had no problem being nearly two hours late. Since the lunch was right before we had to book it to a wedding, we wore our wedding dress attire. I went ahead and spilled some BBQ on my lap like a hillbilly. 

 

After lunch, BBQ spills, and a wedding ceremony, Ben and I were standing outside under the shade of a beautiful, big tree with a small group of his relatives waiting for dinner to be served. There was a perfect breeze, sweet sunshine, and the wine was finally flowing. Then Ben's cousin spilled red wine all over her husband's lap. We all had a good chuckle. Then I subconsciously decided that I would one up the red-wine-pants-spill that could be covered by a shirt. Not realizing what my subconscious was plotting, I began to move my red wine from one hand to the other. Mid-move, the light breeze got frisky and tried to Marilyn Monroe my skirt. So obviously I spazzed while trying to maintain my "I'm a lady" act, and proceeded to throw the entire glass of red wine down the front of my dress. Fantastic. 

And so concludes my July 4th weekend.

xoxo, b 

mke fireworks

Wednesday night, Jessica, Ben and I headed down to the lakefront to watch the USBank fireworks. We threaded our way through the wads of flag tank tops, fried cheese curds, and fat kids waving glow sticks until we reached the breakwater rocks near Discovery World. Once there, we laid stake to a couple flat rocks right at the water's edge. It was literally the perfect spot. You could not get any closer to the show. We cracked open a cold one, leaned back, and got ready for what has always been an awesome show.

And the first 4 minutes that we saw were great.

Then the foggy night and firework smoke mix started creeping in, and before you knew it there were only loud bangs and colorful clouds. It was so sad that it was hilarious.

Ben had brought along a few sparklers, and decided that this was as good as any time to light a couple off. The three little boys next to him got super excited, and asked if they could have a sparkler, too. Ben, being the nice boy that he is, gave them each a sparkler. The little boys lit them off and came back to ask for another. Ben handed them a package of six. The little boys lit them off.

Then one of those snotty nosed little brats walked over to Ben, snapped his fingers and whistled for more.

Jessica, who until now had been laughing hysterically at the firework show mishap, basically choked on her beer and yelled "are you serious?!! Where are your manners!?" At the same time this was happening, I was retrieving my jaw from the ground and exclaiming "ooh hell no!! Benjamin you will not give these boys any more if this is how they behave!!" That naughty little boy realized he had acted like a 10 year old jackass, gave Ben some puppy dog eyes and followed up with a "Excuse me mister, may we please have some more sparklers? We are really enjoying them."

Ben gave them more sparklers.

The moral of the story is, Ben is apparently the good cop and I swear at children.

xoxo, b

summerfest 2013

I happened upon Summerfest 2013 on Saturday, and a little country concert performed by Thomas Rhett, Jake Owen, and Jason Aldean.

And it was fantastic.

Once the concert was over, we left the Marcus amphitheater and headed towards the chaos that was an overcrowded Summerfest grounds. The original game plan was that Ben was going to pick us up or we would cab it back to my place. Well Ben was zonked out and there were no cabs since hello this is Milwaukee and all 27 cabs were occupied-o by the time everyone and their aunt were busy leaving. So we walked to my apartment. MapQuest tells me it is approximately 2.6 miles along the river walk. I believe it.

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 Fireworks tomorrow night in Milwaukee for the Fourth of July.


'Merica!

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Three years ago, on July 5th (because he was told holidays & birthdays were not allowed),
 Ben asked me to marry him. So sweet.


However, I just want to take the time to reiterate the fact that Jessica and I had spent the entirety of July 4th sitting on a front porch wearing flannel, sipping sweet tea and lemonade from mason jars, listening to country music, and trying to play a guitar that was missing a few strings. Ben witnessed all of the above, and still decided to see what I was doing for the remainder of my days.


Soo yeah.


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Paris ate an ibuprofen this weekend. I think she was trying to dull the pain from earlier when Nicole slammed her head against the wall. She must have been riffling through my purse looking for cash or something, because I know she has not mastered the kitty-proof top on the ibuprofen bottle, and there were a couple floating around at the bottom of my bag. Anyways, she threw it up and she's still alive.

Which makes it another successful day in the life of Paris and Nicole.


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xoxo, b

Ooh baby baby

I'm an aunt. Ben's an uncle. Levi is adorable. We drove up to Neenah, WI through some pretty nasty storms to meet the little dude. I think Levi gave Ben baby brain. I'm going to have to shut that down; it's not in the 5 year plan (that I just made up). 

But to clarify with an example: Paris partied too hard the other day and threw up. Ben kindly let me know that he would not be cleaning up the vomit, but would be going directly to the root of the problem and throwing both kitties in the river.** Yeeeaaahh.......noooo. 

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Speak of the devil, Ben got a job working in DOWNTOWN MILWAUKEE. He starts July 8th. Last night, we figured it would be awesome to see how long it would take him to sashay from our downtown Milwaukee apartment to his schmancy, new downtown Milwaukee workplace. Walk time = 20 minutes. His current drive time = 1+ hour, toll booths, and crossing the state line. 

After making it to his new workplace, we just kept walking like a couple of goonies for the next 2 hours. We hit Northwestern Mutual, headed to the lakefront and walked from the Art Museum all the way down to Bradford Beach, then down North Avenue where we stopped for pizza and finally back home near Lakefront Brewery. 

To my feet who endured this all in floppy flops-- I'm sorry. 

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xoxo, b

**For the record, Ben cleaned up Paris' party mess, and both cats still happily reside indoors.

Summer? That you?

Welcome to May....

- It may be summer



MKE Riverwalk

warm enough for a grill out

- Ben may have cancelled our gym membership for a  9 day stint before realizing that is exactly what I wanted and re-instating forced gym-going back into my life



- Paris & Nicole may have emptied a full container of catnip all over the living room floor and rolled around in it until we found them twitching like little drug addicts

paris

nicole

- We may be living in this here apartment just until the end of August, and then headed lordy knows where. Stay in Milwaukee? Head south towards Deerfield, IL? Seriously, let's just go West already and live in Vegas for a year?



- I may be finishing a glass of wine and a cup of coffee right now. The wine was going to skunk any minute now. And I make a conscience effort to refrain from wasteful habits, and to have variety in my life.





undercover kitty

- Paris has really started to ramp up her under covers exploration missions. She may or may not get squished one of these times.









- Since it's warm out, Ben and I have been taking a lot of walks around downtown, and we may have searched out patio dining the last two nights. Sunday afternoon = Rock Bottom Brewery and Monday night = Belair Cantina




 - Thursday nights are ladies' night at Oak. I may have attended.



Brooke being a rockstar

delivering spirits

 














- Since we live right on the river and I have a self-diagnosed addiction to just how cute ducks happen to be, I may be stockpiling old bread and rolls to feed to those adorable little quacks. Old bread now outnumbers new bread in our household, which seems like an amazing notion, but lame geese outnumber adorable ducks on the river. And I am not about to go and feed those winged devils.



- And finally, FAKE PROM 2013 was a splendid and magical night under the stars. But more on that later. Maybe.



xoxo, b

 

bad to the bone

Yesterday, we finally went to the Harley Davidson Museum. My mom, dad, Branners and Adam met up with me and Ben and we explored the history of badass.

old propaganda poster:
"60 out of every 100 children born to-day
are doomed to death or injury
in traffic accidents!" Dramatic much?

I liked seeing all the old photos of downtown Milwaukee, and the off-the-wall advertisements and posters.


It was also pretty sweet seeing how the bikes today are welded together with machines... made me think of Transformers.



The best part was playing... ahem sitting... on all the different bikes at the end of the tour. 

Ben as Evel Knievel

bad to the bone

My mom, the speedster



Branners making "vroom vroom" noises. Bad, badass.

a double-whammy two person bike: "King Kong"

typical badasses

Ben pretending to run over my dad with a motorcycle. Badass.

After we finished up at the Museum, we headed to Trocadero for a burgers and beer dinner. We ate until we were near the point of explosion, mom started laughing so hard that she snorted, Ben wondered [again] what he had married into, and no one stole glassware.


I say we count this one as a win.


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Bucks vs Heat......with A-Rodgers

In other news, Ben and I went to a Bucks home playoff game with one of his coworkers. The Bucks played the Heat and lost, BUT Aaron Rodgers was there. And he was sitting straight ahead of us, approximately 1.28 sections. Soooo, he was there, I was there.... we were there together. No big deal.


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Randy Houser

The Randy Houser concert at The Rave was pretty sa-weet! A $9 Bud Light poured from a can to a plastic cup is not sa-weet. Yeah, no.

On a side note, this is one of the coolest kids. Ever.     Going Out With My Boots On  and rocking out in the car



xoxo, b

Double-o 7

I've finished Mythbusters on Netflix. Yes, my world is crumbling around me.

In what I thought would be a desperate and futile attempt at finding a new tidbit to tune into, I ran across the old 007 Bond films on the Netflix. JACKPOT!!!!!!!!!!
 
*In order to even partially understand what follows, one must be aware of a little game Ben and I play with each other. The I can't even phase you anymore game.     Rules are simple: Catch the other person off guard with ridiculous words or actions to see if you can make them consider the possibility that they married a lunatic.


So anywho, we've started the James Bond movies from numero uno. Ben was thrilled by my fantastic sleuth skillz (with a "z") of finding such Netflix fun. He was so thrilled and immediately into spy character that he screeched out the James Bond theme song and bit me. On the ass. I honestly wish I could claim it was some type of sexy experience. But some weirdo biting thru your flannel pajammie pants while yelling "dun nun nun nuuuuh!!!" in James Bond style while you try and figure out what the heck is happening? Nah, not so much.


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baby blanket!



I made a baby blanket!

Whoohoo marvelous creation with such character.... aka a few patches of consistently inconsistent stitching.

Psssh whatever. Baby needs to know that life ain't perfect. Aunt B may as be the one to teach that valuable life lesson in the form of a comforting and freakin' awesome blanket






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new beast mode glass

I received a pretty cool glass to add to our collection. Beast Mode, welcome to the fam!

Perfect for summer baseball season (go brewers) and cold beer

Thanks Schmev!



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Here's a little known fact.... I have road rage and relatively poor parallel parking tendencies.



Here is an example of my most recent parallel parking job. It's close enough to 8 inches, or 1 foot, or maybe 4 inches? from the curb... knowing those details is apparently half the battle....We were just running inside for some caffeine... otherwise I would have used my road rage to get the job done right. Or at least better. Ugh screw that.


Parallel parking is for fools.



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Guess what I found under the fishie tank. More Mardis Gras beads.


Whaaaaaaaaat?! why.


If you want them, you may have them.




 xoxo, b

if you seek britani

In a land before this blog, there was another blog. It was a starter blog. It was Britani's very own blog. It was named after a Britney Spears song. It was: If you seek Britani.

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I cleaned out our storage locker the other day. It was intense and terrifying and at the very end, strangely beautiful. It also surfaced a few issues with my husband's hoarding obsession. We have 5+ boxes of Maris Gras beads. I do not know what genius idea he has for them, but I'm thinking baby shower gifts. Baby's first beads. I'm going to get ahead of that trend.

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It's almost time to move again, and since we are working on becoming competent adults, the search for a new place has already commenced. Lease is up June 30th. Start the timer. Last year, we found a place 1 week before moving. Actually.... we found the place, visited the place (separately because stupid work hours), signed the lease and moved within 1 week. Ridiculous.



xoxo, b

ants in my pants

I have some serious ants in my pants.

I'm am in desperate need of an adventure. Which makes me a desperate lady. And desperate ladies do strange and wonderful things, like make a Master Plan on how to leave the area for the weekend:

Master Plan Step One: Finish your bag of discounted Easter candy fun sized Snicker bars in true breakfast of champions style

Master Plan Step Two: Watch a little 30 Rock while eating breakfast of champions to get your creative juices churning

Master Plan Step Three: Find a partner in crime. Getting in the car and heading out by your lonesome is only fun for so long; you need to have at least one other person to create a car air rock band. Besides, solo travel would get you Brit-napped and sold to a shady individual who would cut out your kidney and leave you in a bathtub of ice with jagged stitches which make you think "hey, I doubt he had sufficient medical training to perform such an invasive surgery." And that would be a hard truth to swallow.

Master Plan Step Four: Find a location within traveling distance for a three day weekend. Or a two day weekend. Or an overnight trip. Or a fancy daytrip. In all reality, whatever you can sink your talons into at this point.

Master Plan Step Five: If all else fails, put on the Discovery Travel Channel while you ball up and silently rock back and forth while gentle sobs and glistening tears escape from your body. You can't win them all, kiddo. How terribly depressing.


Luckily, I believe myself to be rather persistent when it comes to matters such as these. There WILL be fun.

xoxo, b

The "no gym" stretch

I got out of going to the gym for a significantly large amount of consecutive days. It was a lot of "hey Ben! Look at this!" Or "hey Ben! I made a gourmet dinner!" Or "Look at me dance with this cat! Let's watch Netflix!"

Now he's on to my little scam. So we are going to the god-awful gym tonight. No amount of my fine tuned distracting techniques will deter his stubborn buns from going and guilt tripping me along. The gym is a place where linguine-armed pizza-lovers like myself tend to steer clear of... but the Mister wants to go, so fine. Besides, I could use a 15 minute tanning session.

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Last night, we walked down the riverwalk to Bar Louie for dollar burgers. After we sat down, I noticed a chair facing a dark corner. I figured it was the naughty chair and proceeded to have a hearty, solo laugh at such an absurd thought while Ben, I assume, was looking up symptoms of lunacy on WedMD.

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When I woke up this morning (to the sound of ducks on the river!), I immediately thought "whaaat the hell was I dreaming." During this thinking dialogue with myself, Ben walked into the bedroom and told me about how he dreamt he was being chased by zombies. I had dreamt that a zombie was lumbering toward me before I got pissed and betch-slapped it.

The moral of that story is that we must have fallen asleep with the television on.

Or the flesh-eating undead are on their way. And that's disgusting.


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xoxo, b

Just because

Tonight, I received a dozen roses.....just because.

I think it's because I'm going to kick his bum in our annual NCAA bracket showdown, and he wants to be sure I take my trash talking easy on him.

Otherwise, he did something/wants something/thought something/or is just banking husband points for when he does do/want/ or come up with something. Or maybe they really are "just because." He can be sweet like that.

The jury is still out folks.

xoxo, b