New(ish) year, new shit, same me.

Today’s beverage: still working on my iced coffee from 5am…but at least it’s still cold!

So have ya missed me?! Been a minute, I know. But now that I’ll be in the car for the next 7 hours, what else am I gonna do? Fortunately for everyone involved I don’t get car sick.

2021 is turning out to be my year I think. I got my vaccine so the lower half of my face is now visible to the world again. I just closed on my house. I got engaged. I have a wedding date and a venue. I started a new job!

DO ALL THE THINGS!

Did you know that big changes, even when they’re good, are still stressful? Because I did. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t still get to me. It’s like how my fiancé’s friends threw him a surprise birthday party for three years in a row. He knew it was coming, but that didn’t make it boring. That example is kind of a stretch but Brigid is tired.

So yeah, I thought about naming this “New Year, New Me,” but the “me” is still the same. That’s the thing I don’t get about New Years resolutions. Like unless you’re a real dumpster fire, the goal shouldn’t be to become a new person. It’s more like you want to make some tweaks to the current model. Like you don’t need to get a new car, but maybe it’s time to get it detailed.

Also, the drunk version of you should not be allowed to make life decisions for the sober version, unless that decision is to buy a bulk quantity of dunkaroos and lunchables.

I was just telling someone how I only ever think to paint my nails when I’ve been drinking. And they inevitably look like crap, which I think is a suitable metaphor for setting self-improvement goals while you’re running around in a sparkly dress with your own bottle of champagne. It’s all fun and games until you’re sitting at the table locating any paper cut you’ve ever had with a bottle of acetone.

Also, it’s July. We are clearly not in a new year, unless you live by the timeline of an academic planner…which I just bought…for my new job!!!

And on the topic of that new job…

Those of you who have bought houses are probably remembering that the time to start new employment is not at the same time as when you’re starting a new job. The powers that be were not exactly thrilled with my timing. But guess what?! This was something I needed to do for me.

So we made it work.

Homemade butter is ideal, but if you don’t have your own butter churner and cow, store bought is fine.

Anyway, here I sit. Stuck in a car on the way to North Carolina, and taking the first breather in over a month it feels like. The fiancé and I get a week of relaxation and then it’s moving time! It’s painting time! It’s fixing things in the house we didn’t know were broken time! And most importantly, it will be time to put a wall around the freestanding toilet in our basement. I’m not much for peeing in front of people unless I’m three sheets to the wind, so yeah we think that will be step one.

The one nice thing is that we are opting to not make any big changes to most of the house because we figure that should be done after the puppy we are getting in the fall will be housebroken. No sense buying new carpet only to get it peed on.

DO ALL THE THINGS ALL AT ONCE!

Oof. Let me tell you, that IUD is staying firmly in place. There is a limit to doing all the things. This will not be a Jeebus Take The Wheel scenario.

I do want to share some of the highlights from all the big changes.

Let’s start with the getting engaged thing.

Have you ever pictured in your head how you’ll react when you propose or get proposed to? Does that picture resemble Gollum from Lord of the Rings? Yeah, me neither but here we are. I didn’t even realize until hours later that I never actually said yes. I just ripped the ring from the box and put it on. My manners are impeccable.

Let’s move on to the house.

I will say this one time for everyone who will ever buy a house. CLOSING IS ANTI-CLIMACTIC. At the end I felt like I had to ask and verify that we had actually just closed. It doesn’t help that we are “renting” the house back to the owners for a month for free so we didn’t even get the keys yet. It’s a seller’s market babyyyyyyy.

Now the job.

LOVE IT. I mean it’s the first week so it’s not like I have a real grasp on things but do you ever get somewhere and just think, “this is where I’m meant to be.” It’s the same feeling I get whenever I see an ice cream stand.

On to the future.

Within a week of being engaged, my fiancé and I have a wedding venue and a date. We thought we also had a guest list (or number of people list) but gosh dang were we naive. Either way, we are officially planning a wedding. Enter Bridezilla! No, just kidding. Honestly, and I know so many people say this, but as long as I can eat my own snacks and drink my own drinks, I’ll be happy. I feel like the only thing on my list right now is to start sweatin for the weddin. And I know, I know, that’s somewhat problematic, and my fiancé loves me just how I am. It’s not like he’s the one who told me to hire a personal trainer. He is paying for it, but that’s just due to my poor money management skills.

This was a solid way to kill an hour. I know it’s been an hour because my fiancé was counting down the minutes until noon so he could eat his sandwich. I feel like one of us used the time more productively, but I’ll let you decide who that was.

That’s all I’ve go for you, and maybe I’ll check back in on the return drive.

So until next time… I guess I need a closing catchphrase, but that’s a hurdle for another beer.

Ugh I really need to start incorporating booze back into these…

Do as I say, not as I do

Today’s beverage: coffee….it is not even 7am people. Calm down.

Why am I up so early, you ask? Well my dumb ass agrees to run with a friend every Friday at 5:30am, so I am now firmly in the post run bunny snuggles part of my day. Well, I’m trying to snuggle. The bunny is licking all the dried sweat off my neck and face.

And speaking of bunnies, I have news on the whole growing up and buying a house thing. The boyfriend and I have officially done our first house tour. It won’t be the house for us, but that is not the point.

No, the point is that a good test of whether our realtor was right for us or not (she is; she’s great) was her being understanding of my requirements for Elephant.

As I surveyed the living room and dining room area of the house, I noted that it would be perfect for Elephant because with two area rugs and a runner, she would have unfettered access to two whole rooms!

And that was literally like my only comment about that area of the house. Because when one is considering making the biggest purchase of one’s life, one must consider the smallest critter involved.

But the whole thing got me thinking, and I’d like to take an opportunity to introduce you to Elephant and explain how we’ve gotten to this point where I’m making major life decisions based on an overweight lagomorph.

That’s right. Rabbits aren’t rodents; they are lagomorphs. Take that, MOM!

(Just kidding, love you momma bear)

Back to the task at hand.

I got Elephant for all of the reasons you should not buy a pet, specifically a rabbit, but mostly anything other than a goldfish or a tamagotchi.

Hence…do as I say, not as I do

Reasons I bought Elephant

1. My mom said no. I’ve always wanted a rabbit. We had dogs, cats, fish, and a short-lived and poorly ending journey with frogs, but rodents are not allowed in the house. (See point above. *harrumph*)

2. I was replacing a boy. Literally one month after moving in with my boyfriend at the time, he took a job 4 hours away and moved out. This relationship had more red flags than a sporting match between Switzerland and China, so I really should not have been surprised. But anyway, we had just rented a 2 bedroom apartment, and yet I slept on the couch with a coffee table blocking the door shut every night, and I kept an old night stick next to my bed. (This is an improvement from the steak knife under my pillow. You could say I’m a bit of a scaredy cat.)

3. I was poor and busy. I couldn’t get a dog because they weren’t allowed and also I couldn’t afford one. And I’m allergic to cats. Plus I’m just like generally not really a fan…except for maybe 6 cats. Their owners know who they are.

4. She was on sale! All the bunnies in the pet store were $50. Elephant was only $15 because she was a baby bunny that someone dropped off with a note at the owner’s door.

So I took my Harry Potter discount rabbit and home we went. She peed on me in the car.

Immediately upon putting her on the kitchen floor, I felt I made a terrible mistake. Watching her slide across the floor using her front paws, I thought to myself, “Fuck I bought a paralyzed rabbit! What am I going to do?!”

Spoiler- she is not paralyzed, she just cannot navigate hard floors. Thank the almighty Dwayne the Rock Johnson for wall to wall carpeting.

Our relationship was not love at first sight. For about 3 months, the only way I could get her to come near me was if I played dead on the floor. After about an hour of no movement, she would hop over, smell me, bite me, and take off.

Fast forward to today, where as I said, she’s literally licking sweat off my body while I write this.

Now despite my irresponsible beginnings in the world of pet ownership, I like to think I did a pretty good job. Elephant is litter trained, and as a result, she is now allowed out of her house full time. Her house doesn’t even have a door.

That being said, I’ve definitely learned some valuable lessons in the process of owning a free range rabbit. She may be litter trained, but the training ends there.

1. I should have invested stock in iPhone chargers (I have no friggin clue if that is properly worded, I don’t know money things.) She has a 6th sense for them, and they must be destroyed. I replace phone chargers more than I replace eggs in my refrigerator.

2. Baseboards are apparently delicious

3. Rabbits can and will eat your couch

4. If you trip over them, they do not accept your apology.

5. Be careful bringing dogs in the house. Because the rabbit will attack them…and occasionally hump them.

6. Beware of hysterical pregnancies and check under your pillow for nests. Excuse me while I go vomit from this memory.

7. If you don’t want a food bowl chucked across the room, especially at night, keep the bowl full

Having Elephant around has been a treasure. Some say that dogs are a good judge of character? Please, Littlefoot is a trifling ho and will love anyone that looks at her. But Elephant? If you can pick her up without getting mauled, then you get to stay.

Also, according to the internet, she died like 3 years ago. The lifespan of an unspayed rabbit is 3-4 years and Elephant is going strong coming up on year 7. I guess this makes her a zombie bunny.

Actually, she reminds me more of a drop bear than anything else. She’s a drop bunny!!

This is the point in the conversation where you look up drop bears if you don’t know what they are. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Also, listen to Bob Barker and get your pets spayed or neutered. I was a poor grad student.

Do as I say, not as I do.

Moral of the story, did I think that when I bought Elephant all those years ago that she would be such a big factor in the home buying process?

Trick question! Obviously. And if you feel otherwise, you shouldn’t own a pet. You monster.

Now get ready for some word magic, as I find away to tie this blog post to my general theme of navigating a quarter life crisis.

*rolls shoulders back, strikes a power pose*

Learn from my mistakes and lessons so that you can avoid some of the troubles I have faced.

There, that should do it. Tied up and packaged like a nice Christmas present.

Yeah I know, it’s a stretch, but I got up at 4:30 this morning so I don’t want to hear it.

So until next time…I guess I need a closing catchphrase, but that’s a hurdle for another beer.

Remember being young?

Today’s beverage: Sam Adam’s Boston Lager, Long Trail Angry Gnome IPA, and Long Trail Blaze IPA.

Don’t judge me. I was supposed to be at my brother’s house today, meeting my baby niece for the first time, and yet I’m here in my own apartment. Stupid ice storms.

Back to the blog.

As my boyfriend and I continue the journey to thirty (it almost rhymes if you don’t think too hard) we have decided that the next step in adulthood for us is to own property!

We are thinking a house, but I could be convinced to buy a plot of land and build a porch. Here’s looking at you, Scrubs.

Enter real life House Hunters!

But Brigiddddd, House Hunters IS real. No it’s not, we all know that. It doesn’t make it any less fun to watch. Calm down.

I am excited to look for a house. It’d be cool if it wasn’t a pandemic so I didn’t have to worry about germs, but you gotta take what you can get.

The first step was to decide what we wanted in a house.

Real talk, I have no idea if that’s the first step. We literally have no clue what we are doing. Like, do I just show up to someone’s house and say “this is mine now” all Christoper Columbus style? Do I convince the homeowner that the place is haunted by my family and they miss me? Can I pay with discontinued Girl Scout cookie flavors? I don’t know. I guess that’s why realtors exist.

Anyway, we decided to figure out what our “non-negotiables” were.

Here’s what I came up with. The house has to have:

1. Backyard – preferably fenced. Buy all the dogs!

2. Two toilets – ideally not in the same room

3. A space for my jigsaw puzzles

And that’s it. Pretty simple. 10/10 would not be a good House Hunters contestant. Especially because I have a job that’s not “baked potato artist,” and a budget to match my income.

But it got me reminiscing about the house I thought I wanted when I was a kid. In elementary school, I was 100% convinced that my house would have a room with a trampoline floor and Velcro walls, a room with a trampoline floor and padded walls, and a ball pit. Essentially I just wanted to throw myself around in a somewhat safe manner.

I also wanted room for my 100 dogs, because I anticipated a future animal hoarding problem.

Now that I’m old and wise, my priorities have changed. Not the animal one; that’s really only being limited by my finances and landlords. My boyfriend accepted long ago that if there’s a dog that he wants, it will just be in addition to whatever I have already decided we will have. He once said he likes golden retrievers, so I guess it will just have to get along with our Great Dane and future St. Bernard.

Multiple trampoline rooms would be awesome, don’t get me wrong, but when you throw all that in with the rest of the mansion, there’s no way I’d be able to clean all of that. And don’t get me started on the homeowners insurance. Good grief.

That right there is how I know I’m getting old and boring. I don’t want a big house anymore because I don’t want to clean it. Not that I clean much currently in my manageably sized apartment. The assumption upon entering the house is that you will leave with dog hair on you. If that’s a problem, then you’re likely not in my pandemic circle anyway, so it’s not an issue.

This brought me to a million dollar idea, though. House Hunters, but with KIDS. Like the kids pick the houses; not like adults see three kids, compare the pros and cons and then pick one. This TV show would be the end of my need for any future career soul searching.

Kid House Hunters (it’s a working title): Kids get to go through the houses and pick what will and will not work for them. Because kids aren’t burdened or bogged down with things like mortgages, or resale value, or making logical decisions.

Theres no way this room will fit all my Legos.”

None of these sinks dispense fruit punch. That is unacceptable.”

This could work for a trampoline room if we knock down that wall. Do you know if it’s load-bearing?”

No granite countertops?! What am I, some sort of peasant?!”

You have to admit, this show would be fantastic.

I’ve been spending so much time lately thinking about my profession, that it’s been nice to shift my focus to another aspect of my “growing up.” I’ve always wanted to own a home, and in partnership with my boyfriend, we are in the fortunate position to make this dream a reality.

For one thing, I’m so excited to hang a picture using a hammer and nail, instead of a command strip! That’s it. That’s the only reason I want a home; my hatred of command strips.

Ok obviously that’s not true…most of the time. But I have had the same picture frame hanging on the wall for 6 months, right up until that little bugger decided it didn’t want to be sticky anymore. So boom, down it goes. This wouldn’t have happened if the sucker was nailed up there.

Let’s get back on track here.

In my first post, I said I was in the middle of a quarter life crisis. I have been getting to a point where I’m not really sure my career goals are what they once were. I sometimes question the academic path that led me here. But times like this, where I’m taking steps forward in other parts of my life, make me grateful and proud of where I am now.

I have a masters degree, a stable job that has thankfully survived the pandemic thus far, a comfortable living situation. I know that wherever I go from here, I have so many opportunities that will stem from where I’ve gotten myself so far.

I cannot end on such a sentimental note, so I will leave you with this: if you own a home that you are thinking about selling, and you have a working toilet in your basement, no walls, just out there living its life, waiting for a butt to grace its presence, you need to wall that shit off. Pun intended. Also maybe add a sink create the illusion that you occasionally wash your hands.

So until next time…I guess I need a closing catchphrase, but that’s a hurdle for another beer.