Do you ever wonder if the credit card companies talk to each other? I do. Some sort of insider trading. Chase bank sends a carrier pigeon to Discover with a note that says, “Katherine is maxed out. Send the offer letter.” Discover then sends out the offer letter and replies with a kickback bonus over to Chase. Said offer letter arrives in Katherine’s mailbox. Continue reading “Hostess With the Mostess”
I was twenty-three when I bought my first home. If you’ve ever bought a home, you know the feeling, the rush of accomplishment holding the keys to the American dream in your hand. Ahhh, a home of my very own – in another thirty years, of course. I couldn’t believe my luck, er – hard work. Naturally I did none of this home buying the Dave Ramsey way. Paid nothing down because I was twenty-three and making entry-level salary at a private not-for-profit liberal arts college, but hey, my monthly mortgage was going to be slightly more than what I had been paying in rent, so it made sense. Plus for the first time I’d have no roommates. The American dream, folks. Can you dig it? Continue reading “The Keys to the American Dream”
Sitting in my full-length faux fur-lined leather coat eating ramen noodles by myself, I decided my time window shopping at expensive shopping malls had sadly come to an end. (If you missed my previous post about the leather coat the Devil bought me, you can read it here.) Just as one doesn’t like to cut any enjoyable activity off cold turkey, I opted to step down to an alternate plan. Thus began my addiction with antique malls and flea markets. It was easy to get lost in the aisles of junk without the temptation of high dollar items. Of course, there was the occasional rabbit fur coat to temp the senses, but most items at flea markets are easier on the pocketbook. Continue reading “No More Window Shopping – Or Something Like That”
The first time I danced with the Devil I was seventeen years old. He showed up in the mail all shiny and new. Chase bank had heard I’d been accepted to college and knew – just knew – I’d need a shiny, plastic friend to help me adjust to college life. I opened the envelope, the excitement already building. Cha-ching! They’d given me a $500 credit line! I felt like I’d hit the jackpot. After a bit of discussion, my parents and I decided it was probably good to begin building my credit, and for, you know, emergencies and such. And so with the peeling of that sticker and signing of my name began my dalliance with debt. As I slid my new buddy into my pocketbook, I whispered, “Oh, the places we’ll go together.” Continue reading “The Leather Coat the Devil Bought Me”
Being a parent in the information age is scary, no – terrifying. I was telling our pediatrician the other day that it seems we know too much about parenting nowadays. Long gone are the days of, “Go play outside, kids. Come home when the street lamps come on.” No, today, our days are a stress-filled measuring cup of quality time versus screen time, outdoor time with free play versus guided play, plus educational play. And make sure you read to them at least twenty minutes a day.
So it is when you adopt a puppy, or in our case, when your puppy adopts you, the first thing they say to do is potty train. Labs are easy to potty train, they said. Use plenty of positive reinforcement, they said. I went to the pet store and read the book on labs, asked Google about 100 times. Same thing. Labs are easy to potty train. They respond well to positive reinforcement and kennel training. They do not like to dirty their own space. Well, I hate to be too cliché and say that our Daisy is unique but … um, she’s unique. Continue reading “Labs Are Easy to Potty Train They Said”
In telling the story of Daisy Duke it would be unfair to start anywhere except the beginning.
Once upon a time there lived a yellow Labrador puppy. She lived in a kennel with her brothers and sisters and had no name. She hoped one day to have a family to adopt her and take her home. She dreamed of home. It seemed like a nice place, home. Had a good ring to it.
Since we moved into our new house a month ago, I’ve killed a lot of flies. A lot. The first week, I stopped counting in the fifties. It was ridiculous. We hung fly paper, a fly screen, made sure food was put away and countertops were lysol’d daily, but they were relentless. Even still this week, in November, they’re incessant. I wonder when this infestation will end. I decided to turn my frustration into something productive and humorous. Here’s what killing flies has taught me about life this past month. Continue reading “What Killing Flies Taught Me About Life”
The time is 12:30 a.m., and my phone beeps with a text message alert. I had been without service for 9 hours while at a concert with a friend and the messages were still trickling in. (For more about that story, see this post.) A number I don’t recognize reads, “We have your Labrador dog.” While ransom thoughts fleetingly pass through my head, Continue reading “Follow That Squirrel!”