Tuesday, April 15, 2014



I love the Windy City. It's one of the few cities that I always say, "I'd spend money to go back there!" And that's mostly because I want to explore it with my husband. Unfortunately, there are a few other cities and vacations that take priority over Chicago. Cough, Europe. Cough, Seattle. But one day, we'll go together and play tourist strolling around Navy Pier, taking selfies at The Bean, having a beverage at the top of The Hancock Building, and eating our weight in Chicago Style Pizza. Oh wait, I've already done that. Well most of it.

Exploring it with one of my greatest friends and colleagues, Melissa, was just as fun. We didn't have a lot of free time since we were there for a work trip, but this was our third time in Chicago together and we didn't let a minute pass without making the most of it.

Breakfast at Yolk if you are craving your entire meal served in a pineapple. Even their website will make you smile.

A stroll through Millennium Park and taking a few selfies at The Bean.

Eating the best Chicago Style Pizza at Lou Malnati's. Get a local beer while your there too!

And of course getting a rush from hailing a cab. I don't get to do that often and can't remember if I've ever hailed a cab in my lifetime. So there I was, asking Melissa to take a photo of me, so I could officially check "Hailing a cab" off my bucket list. I knew the cab driver thought I was nuts, so I jokingly told him I lived on a farm and didn't get out much. They have to hate tourists. Then again, scratch that thought. That's how they make most of their money - not watching tourists take photos, but driving their clueless asses butts around the city - so I guess I shouldn't have apologized.

If you haven't been to Chicago yet, add it to your list! To see the city, not the stars. The cabby driving me to my hotel was one of the kindest drivers I have ever had. He was from Ethiopia and asked me if I could see the stars in Colorado. "Of course we can." I replied, "Is it too light to see them here?" Unfortunately, like most major cities, the city of Chicago has too much light pollution, which alters the view of the twinkly night skies. My driver said it was the one thing most people take for granted and I agreed. So the next time you are sitting around a campfire looking for the Big Dipper or a shooting star, remember those in the heart of New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Chicago have to travel far beyond the city nightlife to see what you can see.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Monty Monday

I couldn't decide on just one photo this week, so I picked two. The first one I like to call, "Please let me in the kitchen!" Since we had a good run at counter surfing a few weeks ago, we are trying our best to keep Monty out of the kitchen when we are cooking. Most days it doesn't work well, because we can't seem to break the habit of calling for him when we drop food on the floor. You know dogs are the best vacuums when it comes to kitchens. And we wonder why he takes any opportunity he can to eat human food. #ShameOnUs
The second photo I like to call, "Lazy!" When Monty isn't laying at the top of the stairs just outside my office, that's usually a sure sign he can be found in our bed. So when I took a break from work today, this is where I discovered him. I can't decide if he is giving me the "Do you need something?" look or the "Come snuggle, Mom!" look.
Please ignore my messy bed. I read a fact once that said making your bed in the morning is a good way to make you feel organized before work. Well today is Monday...Monty Monday actually and if I had made my bed, then Monty would have messed it up while taking his afternoon nap. I knew I left it messy for a reason. #SpoiledPup
Why don't I look that cute when I sleep? I never was a pretty sleeper. Sorry Mr. B.

Monday, April 7, 2014

Monty Monday


Monty's Grandma spoiled him while she was in town visiting. By spoiled I mean, two walks a day, handfuls of treats, a tug of war partner, constant snuggles, and the chance to lick a dinner plate.

We all miss you around here. Come back soon Mama, Grandma.



If you follow my Instagram or Facebook you probably saw I received really amazing surprise 10 days ago. My thoughtful husband flew my mom 1500 miles from Pennsylvania to visit for six days, without me knowing. I didn't even have an inkling she was coming. Looking back there were a few signs that I could have picked up on, but at the time, I thought nothing of it.

The thing is, Mr. B is a terrible liar and he knows it. There aren't many, if any, lies that he has gotten away with so when he told me he would be coming home late last Thursday (a lie) he made sure he was smart about his delivery. Rather then tell me face to face, he chose to tell me while he was in the other room putting on his shoes. He yelled, "I will probably be late tonight. I am meeting a vendor and may grab dinner with him." I yelled back, "Okay, just call me on your way home."

[Reason for being late, he was picking my mom up from the airport.]

He later told me, while laughing, "If I had told you that lie about working late to your face, you would have accused me of lying and probably cheating." I giggled because he is probably right. His smile gives him away.

The camera man that he is, happened to capture the surprise on film. If you missed the video, take a look. I obviously swear when I am in shock.

I have had a few inquires as to why I am laying on the floor rather than the open couches in my living room. Reason being is simple - I like the floor. Not to mention, our fireplace is next to where I was laying, which means that's the best seat in the house for ultimate warmth.

Since I was unaware of my mom's arrival, I didn't have anything planned. We decided to keep it low key and just do normal things. Well our "normal" is way more active that the "normal" she is used too. I think she was exhausted by the time she left.

Highlights included: dinner at Scott's parents; wine tasting and house hunting in Ft. Collins; antiquing in Loveland; having a girls day exploring Old Town with Danielle; standing in line for 45 minutes at VooDoo donut to feed a pregnancy craving (Andreas, not mine); putting together beehive frames; walks with Monty; cheering out loud for the Voice contestants; introducing her to gelato; and sitting in Adirondack chairs at Kohl's and dreaming about summer.

Thank you Mr. B from the bottom of my heart for flying my mamabear out here. Our memories from that week will always be special. I love you both.

Thursday, March 27, 2014


There's something you might not know about me that my husband, my closest girlfriends, and my neighbors already know: I live in fear.

I live with a man who would jump out of a plane every day if he could; be dropped out of a helicopter (on skis) at the top of a twenty thousand foot mountain; take a space shuttle to Mars; and live in a tent in the middle of the wilderness. Me on the other hand, well, I wouldn't choose to do any of those things because I'm afraid of heights, helicopters, space, and the wild. Don't get me wrong, I am spontaneous and like to try new things, but never again will I be dropped from a rip cord (at an amusement park) that has me free falling for 15 seconds. Sorry Mr. B, I was only trying to impress you back then. You'd really have to twist my arm to get me on a helicopter and especially on skis. If I survived the heli ride, I certainly wouldn't survive skiing to the bottom. The thought of space - the darkness alone is scary, but the potential of drifting off into the outer most layer of the universe is enough to make me need to breath into a paper bag (and I am on earth). And the wild. Well most of you are probably shaking your head at this one considering we camp a lot, but let's be honest, if Scott put me in a canvas tent, I'd probably be up all night thinking the wolves were going to eat me or the hitchhiker we passed on the way in would kidnap us. I will stick with my camper, which has a way more protection than a tent (at least that's what I tell myself).


We started watching True Detective this past weekend and for three days I was panicking about my impending visit to see my friend Andrea. She was given a temporary prison sentence recently. No am kidding, kind of. She's expecting twin boys and has been put on hospital bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. It totally sucks, but she's rocking it, and will hopefully have two beautiful, healthy baby boys in 4-6 weeks! Anyway, all I kept imagining was the spaghetti face with green ears attacking me in the hospital parking garage. So I came prepared. I packed a knife.

Relax, it was to cut a block of cheddar cheese in her room.

I lied. That was half the reason. The second half was to protect me on my walk back to the car. I made the mistake of announcing that to my girlfriends and one of them almost got me patted down and banned from the hospital for life. Maybe I should reconsider my friend status?

What it comes down to is: TV is bad for my imagination. I try to stay away from most cop/detective dramas, and watch light hearted things like Adam Levine on the Voice, the Property Brothers on HGTV, and even the awfully rude contestants on the Bachelor/ette. But when I do happen to get drawn into the suspenseful episodes of Bluebloods or the news before bed, my mind takes over and I imagine every terrible person on this planet breaking into my house.

Thankfully my neighbors understand my fears. In fact, after meeting them for the first time 4 years ago I asked if they slept with their cell phone ringers on? They looked at me like I was nuts and I finished by saying, "Well if someone breaks into my house, I am calling you before I call the cops. You live ten feet away from my house, whereas the cops live 5 miles." The next day a neighbor delivered a fork to my front door. A fork, where each prong was bent, so it could be used as a weapon. She suggested I keep it in my night stand, next to my pepper spray.

Speaking of pepper spray, I used to work for a company in the corrections industry. After touring a few jails (we'll save those stories for another post), I decided it was time to purchase some protection. I paid $20 and bought a bottle of pink pepper spray. The one with the keychain so it would be easily accessible. The man who sold it to me suggested I do a "test spray" - outside of course and not in the direction of any people - rather than wait for an emergency to use it for the first time. I stood on my porch step and aimed it towards the road. When the stream of pepper spray hit my roommates car instead of the road, I panicked and moved right in the direction of the mist that hadn't had enough time to fall to the ground yet. In case you didn't follow, I essentially sprayed myself! Since my "test spray" was a major fail, I made the decision to not put it on my key chain. My luck, it would be used against me instead of to protect me. Thank God for fork weapons!

I have a lot of other ridiculous things that I do around the house to prevent those said "intruders" but I can't give all of my secrets away. And especially not on this very public interweb. You never know who is reading.

What are your fears?

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