Second, I am getting a tattoo. Yep. Finally pulling the trigger. It’s funny, I’ve always wanted one but wanted to wait until I knew for sure exactly what I wanted to put on my body forever. I had been playing with getting the phrase “amor vincit omnia,” which means “love conquers all” in Latin, on my wrist for some time. Andreas got me a bracelet with that phrase on it, oh, 300 billion years ago when we first started dating, and I had it inscribed on his wedding ring. So it’s always held special meaning. But it was seeing the same words on my boss’ arm a few months ago that really set the wheels in motion. I think something’s changing in me because I also recently put two bumper stickers on my car where the thought of that used to freak me out a little bit. Oh the commitment! Apparently that’s all changed now and next Wednesday night I’ll have the real, live fresh ink to prove it.

What. Else. Oh! I recently lost 10 lbs. Which is obviously exciting. Between all we’ve gone through over the past couple of years and moving out to the suburbs, I managed to pack on quite few since our wedding. Now I’m just trying to get back to where I was then, which means 10 more lbs to go. I’ve set up little rewards for myself to stay motivated. 5 lbs down was new gym shoes (it’d been over 10 years since my last pair which is beyond embarrassing to admit but we’re embracing things around these parts). 10 lbs down was an outfit from the ridiculously pricey Lululemon which I splurged on last weekend. You guys. Their stuff is so lovely and fits so well. You can feel how well made it is. I see why it’s so expensive but yeah. No spending for me for awhile.

Also. We were trying to get Ava certified as a therapy dog but unfortunately it’s not going to work out. We went to two classes and gave it a fair shot but some combination of all the other dogs present in the classroom (to be fair it was like 10 dogs, some of them huge, squeezed into a room the size of my bedroom), our lack in getting her professionally trained and the stress of the whole situation that made it pretty clear, pretty fast that this wasn’t her cup of tea. She was seriously the worst student in the class, which would surprise anyone who’s met her because she’s typically such a calm, quiet, obedient, loving and loyal dog. But we’re hoping that once she gets a little older and gets some training, we might be able to go back. Now we’re going to seriously look into hooking up with a trainer and maybe even working toward getting her certified as a Canine Good Citizen (it’s this whole test you have to take).

So, those are the major things for now. Much. More. Blogs. Coming. Soon.

Well it sure has been quiet around these parts, eh? And what a false representation that is of my life these days because it has been anything but quiet. I believe the only word one could use to encompass it is batshit, which according to Urban Dictionary is defined as “A level of insanity that the word alone cannot justify.”

Yep, that just about covers it.

The new job? Batshit. I think I’ve done more work in these two and a half months than I did in six at my last job. And yes, it’s been fun at times and certainly a hell of a learning experience, but to go from wanting to scratch your eyeballs out if you have to play hide-and-go-seek one more time to feeling like you can’t remember your name because you’re juggling so much at once takes a bit of getting used to, to say the least.

Then on top of that, throw in two trips down south for the holidays, Christmas shopping, buying a new car (the Volvo, I regret to inform, shit the bed), one ever-growing and curious puppy, and me, three weeks before Christmas, deciding to throw a holiday party for 15 people. (I bring it on myself, I know this.)

But you know what? It was great. The holiday party, I mean. I set the menu a week in advance (cocktails, heavy apps and dessert), spread out my shopping, did my baking during the week, then pulled everything together last Saturday. And I’ll admit, there was a moment about two hours before the guests were due that I had panic moment. One of those what-the-f-did-I-get-myself-into kinds of moments, but with the help of a friend and one very patient husband, we pulled it off. And with time to take pictures before the guests arrive too!

And now we’re home in Maryland laying low for the rest of 2010. Wouldn’t you know it, the minute I stopped running around at top speed, my body decided to shut down and get sick! But that’s okay, I have my new toy from A to keep me plenty busy:

But what about you? How are your holidays treating you? Do tell, it’s been far too long.

Now I could go on about how Bridget and I came to be such pals but she does a pretty good job of it herself here. Suffice to say, WE HAVE A LOT IN COMMON.

Bridget, take it away…

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When Shelley asked me to be a guest blogger on The Spotted Duck, I was a little apprehensive at first.  It’s absolutely fine to vomit up yesterday’s conversation about singing about sloots or my recent pre-occupation with pooping and call it writing on my own blog. It’s a horse of a different color to do it on someone else’s blog. People might not be expecting that on a reputable blog. You can’t just ambush them with poop. Literally or figuratively, it’s usually not appreciated.

And right there I was going to insert a giant picture of poop because I bet after that assurance you REALLY wouldn’t have expected it, but this is not my blog and I am not going to do that. It’s called discretion. I have it. See, mom, I’m not “the crude one.”

So instead I thought I’d talk about what it’s like being bizarre-o Shelley. Think about THIS: Our paths crossed on the blogosphere some time ago as we were both beginning to pull our hair out over wedding preparations. Turned out Shelley was getting married the week before I was, which was awesome. Because suddenly I had someone to bounce ideas off of and ask advice of and swap stories with because she was going through pretty much the same exact experience in Boston as I was in Philadelphia.

THEN we both started the house hunt around the same time. IT’S A HOUSING FRENZY, YA’LL. Shelley and Andreas bought a gorgeous condo in north of Boston, and I was looking just south of the city. And not my city. THEIR city. What happens when you take a Philly girl and drop her on the Massachusetts coast? IT’S AN ISSUE, PEOPLE.

I’ve spent months agonizing over the move. What’s in Boston? Where will I get my soft pretzels? Who will sit in the corner drinking beer with me and not laugh when I call water “wooder?” And I’m proud to admit that I only occasionally spend the night crying on the kitchen floor with a bottle of wine and a poster of Rocky Balboa because WHYYYY GAAAAHHH? And all the while, Shelley has given me tips on neighborhoods to consider and pumped my wine-soaked head full of grand images of Boston-living. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

Then, we both resigned from our current jobs, effective on the same exact day. And now we talk about jobs and life goals and current ambitions.  HOW WEIRD IS THAT?

As Shelley said in last Wednesday’s post, she’s all in these days.  Pretty much just like Shelley, I’m getting married, turning 25, buying a house, moving 350 miles away from my family, and starting a new job, all within a span of a few months. Could I be any more in? Is there a rule that once you turn 25 you’re expected to make all these grown up decisions RIGHT NOW ALL THE TIME? I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT I WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE. IT’S CALLED A QUARTER LIFE CRISIS, AND I’VE GOT ONE.

Who needs a drink?

Anyway. Like I said, it’s like we’re pretty much leading bizarre-o lives, doing all of the same really big life things at the same time. And when you are going through all these things, it’s really nice to know someone who’s going through them too, and understands what you’re feeling, and doesn’t judge you for having an occasional Tuesday evening meltdown.

So when Shelley asked me to help her out with a blog post, I was more than happy to agree. Because even though I haven’t met her yet, I can say pretty confidently that she’s my friend. Whether she likes it or not.

P.S. I almost just ended this post with the same picture of poop I was going to insert in the beginning because that would have been hilarious. GOD I am SO GOOD at self control today.

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Catch more of Bridget’s laugh-out-loud style over at her blog, Yellaphant.