Why life with Blair is fun:
On going to Lowe's to buy a stud finder so he could hang a heavy mirror of my mom's: "It was weird. The finders kept going off every time I walked by."
On driving by a car with the words "YOUR MY SUNSHINE" soaped on it: "It's correct from a 'Hooked on Phonics' standpoint."
On watching me type this blog entry: "Why don't you just cave in and start the blog you really want to write? $H!T MY HUSBAND SAYS."
I did a radio interview the other day and one of the questions thrown at me was, "Who do you admire?" I wasn't thrilled with the answer I gave. I babbled something about how I've always responded to the wrong role models. If someone I know does great things, I tend toward apathy after spending time with them. I'm happy for them, but I wander around in a daze for awhile, trying not think about how much I have left I want to accomplish in life and wondering how they managed to do so much with theirs.
On the other end of the spectrum, put me in a room with a deadbeat for 10 minutes and I'll stay fired up for a week. Projects, done! New proposals, done! Networking, marketing, housework, exercise, done, done, done, done! Something about seeing people flounder around in their own lives motivates me to do more with my own. (Nice, I know.)
A couple of months ago when I visited my cousin in Ohio, I came home with cat art--one drawing done in three different colors. I thought the three pictures would look cute in my workspace but turns out there is a thing as too much cat stuff in any one room. Who knew? The upshot being the pictures needed to find a new home.
Naturally, we left them sitting in our in-box, hoping they would miraculously hang themselves. When that didn't work out for us, I took charge this past Sunday and decreed it "Find A Home for the Cat Pictures Day."
We walked all over the house, holding the pictures up to various walls and getting progressively more angry at one another as we continued to reject each other's wall choices. Finally, we found ourselves in the rear hallway, me holding up the pictures against the wall over where we keep the litter box. The litter box (and wall) in turn are directly across the hall from our guest bathroom. So as 
Bath on right, wall on left with picture frame just barely visibleyou exit the bathroom, you are directly facing the wall.
"See? It's kind of funny," I said. "Cat pictures... litter box..."
"I'm not sure," said Blair. He walked into the bathroom and stood in the doorway, his back to me. "Okay, I'm in here, I've finished peeing, I'm coming out--" He spun around and stared at the pictures.
"You are a freak," I said, laughing. Then I thought about it. "Here, you hold these up and let me try it."
So we took turns pretending to exit the bath, deciding whether or
Wall of fine art not we wanted to see balancing cats upon exiting. We decided yes, we do. The cat pictures now hang there, happy in their new home.
If any of you need help evaluating your fine art and where to hang it, Blair and I are available for consultation.
Cheers!
photo: © iStockphoto | Mehmet Salih Guler Sitting out on the back porch the other night (in 90 degree heat and 80% humidity, don't ask me why), Blair mentioned that, instead of taking Olivia to the vet, he was going to attempt to trim her claws himself.
I leaned over and took his hands and stared deep into his eyes. "I just want you to know how much I've enjoyed our life together," I said. "I love you and I'll miss you terribly when you're gone."
Author. Humorist. Fitness fanatic. Control freak (working on it). Mentor. Klutz. All-around decent human being.
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