First comes love, then comes marriage...

Aug 27, 2014

Then comes a house, of course.
Our apartment lease is up soon, so we've been on the hunt for a real live house over the last few weeks. 
It's hard to believe we've been in a teeny apartment for almost two years. 
This year I am on call over Christmas, and I'm dreaded not being able to spend it with our families in Louisiana.
My goal was to be in a new place
Oh and we've been craving a place large enough to hold a king size bed.
That's not too much to ask, right?
Two dogs + two humans + one queen size bed.
In this whole house-hunting process, our only problem was finding the "perfect" home that we could both agree on.
I'm anti suburbia and I insisted on a non-brick home in an actual neighborhood.
With trees.
Josh insisted on a brick suburbia house.
I'm just as shocked as you are.
My parents came to town and we came up with a list of homes we wanted to go check out. 
I don't know why we even bothered with a list, because we fell in love with the first one we looked at.
The HardiePlank siding, the carriage style two car garage, the mega yard for the pups, the insanely gorgeous kitchen with grey subway tile.
. . . oh and the master closet
Everyone around here has been all like "It's a buyer's market! Don't get too attached! Houses sell the day they are listed!"
Silly me. 
I got attached.
Some stranger who obviously didn't care about my attachment issues made an offer on our dream home and the house was quickly under contract.
I cried one miniature tear, and then we found out that the builders of that home had just finished a somewhat smaller, cheaper version:
We ultimately became attached (again)
Even though it had a one car garage, smaller backyard, and the master bathroom didn't have a bathtub (no bathtub!?!) we convinced ourselves it was the one.
It was cheaper and fit well within our budget.
Before we committed, we looked around town a bit more to make sure this was exactly what we wanted.
I fell in love an "old" home (Josh's words, not mine) in the most cozy neighborhood with a great yard and a perfect kitchen, Josh hated it.
It was too old for him. 
He fell in love with a new home.
I hated it.
It was solid brick.
In his defense, it did have the world's greatest kitchen.
In memory of the ones (plural) that got away, I want to commemorate them for some of my favorite details.
R.I.P perfect homes (that Josh hated).
This breakfast nook:
This porch:
 This sink:
 This tub:
(Although I'm fairly certain this house was haunted)
After a slight breakdown or two a few more tears, we realized that the only home we had ever agreed on was the bungalow.
He loved that it was new, and I loved that it looked older, but was still in a cozy, non-cookie-cutter neighborhood.
We made an offer and to our surprise it was accepted! 
We felt like we had won.
The battle was over.
We got a house!
The inspection happened, and we realized that the "yard" that the builders had sodded and even installed an in-ground sprinkler system into would not in fact be our "yard".
The property line of this house ended 15 feet short of the neighbors back fence, which virtually cut the yard in half.
To put some really crappy great value brand icing on our magnificent cake, there was a dead tree in that plot of land that was a slight breeze away from falling into the neighbors yard and totaling their eclectic collection of "vintage"cars.
After talking with the builders, our realtor, and a lawyer or two, we ultimately decided that the legal battle was not something we should tackle and we withdrew our offer.
We were both surprisingly very depressed about it. 
We had so many plans.
We had begun to buy furniture and thanks to some peer pressure we had already decided where our two Christmas trees would go.
I cried only a few more tears (I didn't have many left after all this nonsense) and thankfully I had lots of moral support and wonderful friends and family to remind me that God has a plan and things have a way of working out if they are meant to be.
Just because your offer is accepted doesn't mean the house is yours.
Lesson learned.
Little did we know, the current offer on our first "house crush" (sage green bungalow with two car garage and mega yard, pictured above) was only a contingency offer (with a secret knock-out clause).
Interpretation: These potential buyers were basically "holding" the house until they could sell the house they were currently living in. 
If someone came along and gave a good offer that the builder liked, then the potential buyers would have a certain time frame to front the money so they could get the house.
Long story short, we made an offer and today at 5:00pm we found out it was accepted!
The other bidders bowed out gracefully.
We won!
I'm half way over the moon and I'm halfway terrified to be over the moon because of what happened last time.
I do find it pretty fantastic though that we ultimately got our first "house crush".
We still have a few hoops to jump through before it is officially ours, so I'm going to try my best to not get my hopes up in the meantime.
. . . but isn't it THE cutest?
Over the last few weeks Josh and I have been slapped in the face by adulthood. 
We usually spend each Labor Day weekend camping out at The Gorge in Washington.
This year will be our first year to miss out of the fun.
I've dreaded the day where we had to say no to travel for the sake of saving up money for grown-up things.
Although it is somewhat nauseating, that time has officially come, and I must say I'm not all that sad about.
Bring it on, adulthood.

Tunesday: Sylvan Esso "Coffee"

Aug 26, 2014

Today I wrote seven blog posts that I doubt I ever get around to posting.
I'm the worst, right?
I haven't been able to get this song out of my head lately, so I felt the need to blog about it instead.

Strange video.
Incredible song.
I dare you to take it off of repeat.

Happy Fourth Birthday Charlie!

Aug 22, 2014

Today is our sweet pup's fourth birthday.
He's practically a grandpa now, right?
Charlie has had quite the eventful year.
His oh so perfect spoiled rotten only child world was slightly rocked when we added another setter to the mix.
Charlie's parents had another litter this year and we were able to get a biological sister for King Charles.
Six months later and I think he still resents us.
In true big brother form, he's a guhhhhreat wrastler though.
Here's a little recap of Charlie's fourth year:
Probably the highlight of Charlie's year was his Halloween costume:
The Irish Settler
He was quite the Bingo competitor.
He facetimed me while I was away for my first work trip.
Do you see a tear? I think that's a tear.
He continues to stalk the heck out of our neighborhood rabbits.
We took him back up to Arkansas for a weekend getaway.
Three years later and you can hardly tell a difference, right?
He posed ever so eloquently in front of our Christmas tree.
He helped us survive our first ice storm.
He snuggled up hard like he had the flu or something.
He attempted to dominate the center console on all roadtrips.
He thoroughly inspected our new record player contraption.
He became a genuine gangster.
He refused to let us take our Christmas tree down until February.
He met, and absolutely hated, our new neighbor pup, Rufio.
Which should have been a slight red flag for us.
He used is elbows the only way elbows should be used.
He continued to believe that if he wasn't making eye contact then he couldn't hear anything being said.
He dominated Supermarket Sweep.
He thoroughly enjoyed his last few moments being an only child and not being harassed, annoyed, or chewed on.
He got to reunite with his dad and mom in Mississippi.
They never sat still long enough for me to get a decent photo, but I snapped this one of his dad, Rhett.
They look nearly identical!
He became a big brother!
Call me crazy, but I kinda just assumed that Charlie would basically train Molly to pee outside, not bark at the neighbors, and to .
Not sure what I was smoking.
Kind of funny how we used to think Charlie was sooooo wild and crazy and bad, now all of a sudden with Molly in the picture he is the most calm, laid back, perfect angel of a pup in the world.
Charlie proudly showed off his 'ol stompin grounds, the Arbor Hills Nature Preserve, to Molly recently.
He felt so cool, we could tell.
After living 3.5 years as a fluffy little, free-spirited, ungroomed pup, we finally caved a gave him a haircut.
He's still coming to terms with it.
Just recently he got to go back to Georgia and run 3098409283 laps around Josh's dads yard, but this time he had the company of two babes, Molly and Lucy.
Today we spoiled Charlie with a pupcake and as many walks as his little heart desired.
As a former "not a dog person" I'm still amazed how much love I have in my heart for this silly pup.
We are pretty darn thankful to have him in our life.
Check out these links to see Charlie's first, second, and third birthdays!


Aug 6, 2014

Hands down, one of my biggest fears is death.
Not necessarily my death, more-so the death of other people.
My death paranoia is so intense that if I'm ever leaving someone I'm close to (even if it's just for a day or a few hours) I'm always sure to tell them I love them.
If Josh doesn't answer my phone call, I immediately assume his lame excuse for a vehicle exploded on him and he died.
I remember crying myself to sleep as a child worrying that my parents would someday die.
As soon as I saw this viral video, I had so many flashbacks to those feelings as a kid.
Buzzfeed said it best:
The struggle is real, sister.

. . . speaking of death, this blog hasn't died.
Although I contemplate killing it, daily, I've got some posts up my sleeve that I'm dying to get from my brain onto the screen.
Unfortunately, Josh has finally sucked me into the black hole that is Breaking Bad.
I caved.
See ya never.

Tunesday: Asgeir Trausti

Jul 29, 2014

While in Iceland on our honeymoon, we were forced to listen to Icelandic radio in our rental car (because our silly American selves forgot an auxillary cord).
We would occaisionally hear some Sigur Ros and Of Monsters and Men but there was one song we kept hearing that tickled our fancy.
Although there wasn't a single lyric in English, the tune was quite contagious.
Somehow we managed to figure out the name of the song and the artist (I still don't quite know how we did it) and we found it on iTunes.
Nearly two years later, we still play it often.
It's kind of entertaining to hear us attempt to sing/mumble the words like we know what they mean.
Much to our surprise, the same artist, Asgeir Trausti, recently debuted an English album, under the name Asgeir.
As soon as Josh heard it on one of our favorite local radio stations he immediately yelled "this is that random Icelandic guy!"
Thanks to Shazam we realized he was right.
Josh's musical ears kind of blow my mind, and Asgeir's musical brain and voice and skillzzz blow my mind harder.

Go here to check out his newest stuff, it's quite lovely.
Go here to catch up on our Icelandic Honeymoon, in case you missed it. 
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