Jane is twelve and a (very important) half. Jane is in sixth grade, but some of her friends who are just a few months older are in seventh grade. A lot happens between sixth and seventh grade. In sixth grade they discover boys, and in seventh grade they discover makeup, and kissing.
Thankfully Jane and her friends adhere to all scientific principles and abhor a vacuum. If I walk with them and don’t speak they fill the void giving me every detail of their day, and every detail of their friends days too. I know who is kissing, who is “in love”, whose skirts are too short (all of them) and who the ringleaders are.
When I walked into Jane’s room this evening she and her friend were surfing the web (tabbed browsing) with the bottom tab they had YouTube streaming Lady Gaga’s Born This Way, all the while experimenting with makeup at Covergirl.com.
Their Makeup Mirror is somewhere beyond fabulous when you’re a tween, so I decided to use it for some of my own styles. I fear 41 is a tad bit too old for the blue shadow that the girls favor.
Ready for the Jersey Shore
Maybe the lips are a little too red?
I'm Just like Ellen
I’ve been looking for a new house for more than four months now. I know what I want. I want a larger lot, a smaller house, a pool, good floors and a walking neighborhood. I want to spend almost exactly as much as we sell this house for.
What I have is a bigger home. I have five bedrooms, four full bathrooms and vaulted ceilings. We need none of it. We thought we needed a playroom, we thought we needed a formal dining room, we thought we needed a toilet for every ass, but the reality is that the kids are bigger now and they spend less time indoors with every passing day.
Every time I find a house I like Mr G thinks it’s too small. The houses he likes are too big for my taste. We are both unwilling to stretch our budget there is no need to go into debt.
Last night while we were busy not touching strangers I put it all out there for Mr G. I explained to him that I wanted to pick a window of time where we’d continue our hunt and if we didn’t find something inside of say 15 to 20 weeks we’d go ahead and refinance the house we’re in down to a 15 year loan, put some nice hardwood floors in downstairs and decide that this is the house we’re going to die in. The other option is to expand our search and possibly buy a house that needs a remodel. I told Mr G that this was not the best option and that I had limited energy for a remodel and that I would not buy anything with two stories because of my RA and…
His eyes lit up and he said, “Let’s do that.”
I know the look, and I know we’ll be buying a dump and making it ours, because there’s nothing Mr G loves more than new construction.
I. Am. Fucked.
